Rapunzel's Castle

Grandpa Grumps

2023-03-14T20:14:00.000-04:00

Today's Beema's Bedtime Story was Grandpa Grumps by Katrina Moore. The adorable illustrations and sweet tale of a granddaughter's attempt to connect, find common ground with her grandpa brought tears to my eyes, and allowed fond memories to surface.

I, too, had a "grumpy grandpa," by all accounts, but he was kind and patient with me. His name was Russell, but everyone called him, "Shorty." When my grandma died, he came to live with us, splitting time between my family in Florida and my aunt's in Ohio. I was eight when he moved in, shy and uncertain of him, given his grumpy reputation! He was home during the day, though, and I was lonely, so while my parents worked, we hung out together. He'd take me to a local auto repair shop where he had friends who hung out, drank coffee and talked about..well, who knows. I didn't pay attention to the conversation; I was just happy to be out and about with him, tooling around in his little truck with the camper top. We found our common ground over fishing (well, I sat on the side of the canal and made bait from Wonder Bread) and our love of animals. He and I once rescued a tortoise from the middle of the road and named him "Charlie." (It turns out, Grandpa nicknamed everything, "Charlie.") A lifetime gardener, he and grandma would show up for Florida visits with their trunk laden down with veggies for us. To this day, I've never eaten a better tomato! They never owned their own home, but even when residing in a tiny apartment over a strip mall, he somehow found a way to tend a garden. He'd make a deal with some friend or another to "borrow" a plot of land, am sure the landowner was repaid in warm-from-the-ground peppers, 'maters and cukes. Not willing to give that up even when he lived with us in Suburbia, he dug up a section of our yard and got to work. He let me plant flowers, and laughed uproariously when I poured an entire packet of seeds into one hole, resulting in the biggest marigold "bush" I've ever seen.

We spent a summer fishing, watching tv together (Sanford & Sons was a favorite of his) in the little back bedroom next to mine, and generally getting to know each other. He wasn't a very chatty man, but he had strong opinions and wasn't afraid to share them when necessary.

Grandpa & Mom

Aunt Katie, Grandpa, Me

He bought me this organ for Christmas, I drove my parents crazy playing it!

The last time I saw my grandpa was Christmas of 1981 when I was 16 years old, his last trip to Florida before he was diagnosed with lung cancer. As a coal miner and longtime smoker, this didn't come as a surprise to us, but it was devastating nonetheless. Despite his short stature, he was strong, independent and feisty and didn't let anyone take care of him, refused to move in with my aunt even when his health was failing. She visited daily, though, and found him early one morning, having passed away peacefully in his sleep in his little trailer in the woods, surrounded by nature & the squirrel he trained to eat peanuts out of his hand (can you guess the squirrel's name?).

I think of my grandparents often now that I myself am a grandma. Though we didn't get to visit as often as I'd like, my childhood is imprinted with loving memories of them. I'm grateful for those moments, and hope that my little ones will say the same of me one day.

Rapunzel~

Change of Scenery

2023-03-10T13:00:00.003-05:00

Where to begin? The beginning seems to be the most logical place, but where is that? How far back do I go? And how much do I have to unpack along the way? Too far, and too much..for now. So, I'll just tell a short story, a synopsis of the recent past..

We decided to spend some time in Gainesville, arrived nearly two weeks ago and will likely be here for at least two more weeks. We have been busy making the "Lemon House" more homey, building on the beautiful items Lily and C left us when they moved out.

Since we will be here for a while, we brought the cats and they're having a great time exploring their new space!

This house is so lovely, has it's own unique details and charms different from Ormond Beach. I've been enjoying the process of settling in, arranging pillows and tossing blankets, hanging artwork and stocking the pantry. I've made several meals for Bambi and J, have loved setting a proper table and having family around it, and being "treated" at Bambi's house.

J and I have visited the library and gone shopping, she is the best helper/shopping companion ever! We've also explored her magical backyard, played with her kitty, did some coloring..and she and Captain had a rousing games of cards & Candy Land.

We still have work to do, but it's shaping up nicely and we are feeling comfortable, finding a routine..enjoying a change of pace and scenery.

Signing off from Gatorland,

Rapunzel

Book Review: Love is Powerful

2023-02-18T11:21:00.001-05:00

Love Is Powerful by LeUyen Pham
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

WOW! Reading this book brought me right back to that day in January 2017, how all of we people, mostly women, came together to rally peacefully against hate, for love. I got teary-eyed and chills up my arms reading this story from a young girl's point of view, and loved reading it aloud to my grandchildren. Though they will never remember this particular moment in history, I am proud to say that I did my tiny part, that their mothers and aunts and friends and family did even more. That we did see results, and that we continue to stand up, to speak out, to fight back. This is such an important message to the next generations! Amazing book, one I will purchase and treasure as a reminder that Love is, indeed, Powerful.

View all my reviews

Grandma's Bedtime Stories: https://youtu.be/LXcMcMz2A0s

February

2023-02-17T16:27:00.001-05:00

“The day and time itself: late afternoon in early February,

was there a moment of the year better suited for despair?”

― Alice McDermott

Though I live in "The Sunshine State" where it's thought to be warm and bright all year long, I still have my dark days. When the skies are grey and the wind is blowing too hard to enjoy a nice beach walk, I find myself with a touch of seasonal depression, a longing to curl up inside and just rest. I usually try to fight the urge, guilting myself into doing something, anything, in order not to seem lazy.

Lately, though, I've been ignoring that voice in my head that chastises and reprimands, instead allowing my body and mind to be still, to sit and just be. To winter, as I referenced in a prior post.

A couple of weeks ago, Bambi and J came to visit and we had a Big Adventure! We colored our own kite, then set it out to sail on the shore. We had such a fun time, racing around, chasing the kite and each other, being free and silly and childlike. Just enjoying the day, making the most of the breeze (great for kite flying!) and the grey skies (no heat!). It was lovely, and I reminded myself to do more of that.

A shawl for my bestie's birthday

Lilo assisting me with a blanket to benefit a charity

I've been reading a bit, and crocheting a lot. I've committed to several large projects over the remainder of winter into spring, and I've been enjoying the structure of deadlines and commitments, but very loose ones.

I haven't walked much, but I did get out and greet the sunrise a couple days ago. It felt fantastic, and I know that it's better for my mind and body when I make movement a priority.

I guess that's really all to say right now, find that I'm in a reflective, solitary "season" and am not going to push myself out of that. I'm taking care of my family, including the furry ones, and staying connected to my close friends. Otherwise, I'm just meandering around, gently inviting the Universe to show me what's next. Because we all know that nothing stays the same for long!

Rapunzel~

Word of the Year

2023-01-30T09:08:00.001-05:00

Taken at Gainesville Nami Walk for Mental Health Awareness Festival

As has been my tradition for years, I once again chose a word/phrase to focus on for the new year. Considering how much crafting I did last year, it's no surprise that this word came immediately to mind:

MAKE

Yes, I mean it in the literal sense as in the making of my blankets and other cozy things, but also in a more abstract, spiritual way.

Make...love. Make..amends. Make..friends. Make..peace. Make..meals. Make..a tidier home...Make time for reading..Make healthy choices..etc. etc. etc.

This was my chosen word, but then, another kept coming up for me as well..

MORE

When I first watched the movie, One True Thing, and of course read the amazing novel upon which it was based, so many great moments jumped out at me, so many quotes, including this one:

"Your father always says that, 'less is more,' to me, 'more is more."

Being a Leo who has never achieved "minimalism," and struggles with "moderation," I can totally relate! So, I've decided that my phrase for 2023 will be:

MAKE MORE

Make more love..make more friends..make more peace..make more meals..make a more tidy home..make more time for reading...make more healthy choices..etc..etc..etc..

I love it, and have already started implementing some of it into my daily routine. Well, mostly the making of blankets, but I will be working on the rest, little by little.

I'm still really easing into the year, haven't found the oomph to do very much. I haven't gotten back to my walking routine, but I'm giving myself a break, knowing that I've had these slumps before and I always work my way through them. I have been reading more, dedicating some of my early morning to my book instead of social media. I'm making more mindful choices in my day to day life, and that feels really good!

One area that Beren and I have been working on is our tv screen time. Since he retired, we have spent too much time in front of the television, bingeing series after series, which is fine. We have a lot of "free" hours in the day, and as long as our family's needs are being met, I don't feel too guilty for vegging out on the couch, especially since I'm always crocheting as I watch. We usually chose quality shows, mostly British dramas & mysteries, but this year I'd like to focus on more movies. I adore films, have always said that I could literally go the theater every day, so why not create that experience at home?

The thing I missed most during the pandemic..
I was thrilled when I could finally return to the theater!

I have been logging our films on Letterboxd, and our tv series on TV Time (I'm sure I could combine the two but I like both platforms for different reasons). If you're a member of either of these, let me know so I can follow!

Here are the movies we've watched in 2023, thirty-one so far! Some are oldies that we missed, or wanted to watch again, others are new to us. These include the films we see at the theater during our usual Tuesday matinee movie-and-a-coffee date!

I guess that's it for now. Today the "laundry fairies" need to work on Mount Washmore, I'm hoping they also pull the ironing board out and tackle a few of Beren's Hawaiian shirts. I have a phone chat date with a dear friend, and also should tidy up a bit around here. In the meantime, I hear my crochet hook calling..

Have a beautiful day!

Rapunzel

Wintering

2023-01-26T09:39:00.006-05:00

“Snow creates that quality of awe in the face of a power greater than ours. It epitomizes the aesthetic notion of the sublime, in which greatness and beauty couple to overcome you—
a small, frail human—entirely.”~ Katherine May, Wintering

While some members of my beautiful family are enjoying their first winter in Germany, sending gorgeous pics of snowflakes and bundled-up children playing outside, I'm doing my own kind of "wintering." All of the quotes in this post are from a book highly recommended by my friend, so while I wait for it to become available at the library, I'll read the bits I can find on Goodreads.

January has been challenging, and not in the ways many people think. We here in Florida don't have traditional cold seasons. We don't shovel snow nor worry about our heating bill, and the only snowmen are the ones made of sand on the beach.

“When I started feeling the drag of winter, I began to treat myself like a favoured child: with kindness and love. I assumed my needs were reasonable and that my feelings were signals of something important. I kept myself well fed and made sure I was getting enough sleep. I took myself for walks in the fresh air and spent time doing things that soothed me. I asked myself: What is this winter all about? I asked myself: What change is coming?”

The temps rarely dip into the 30s, and the skies are bright blue much of the time. And yet, I still find myself wanting to hibernate, to curl up with coffee and a blanket, light a fire and spend the day reading and crocheting on the couch with the cats.

So, that's what I've been doing, yet I feel guilty for it, like I should be more productive. I should be tackling that "to do" list, Marie Kond-ing everything, organizing & purging as I see so many other folks doing. I should be back to my walking routine, get that meal plan implemented, set my New Years intentions and shed the ten pounds I have gained.

And yet, I find myself immobilized. I make my way through the day doing the necessities, of course. No one is going hungry nor living in squalor. Our home (despite the still-unrepaired storm damage) is clean enough, tidy enough, but there are messes lurking behind doors and walls that until the aforementioned work is done, I really can't tackle. Since I am an all-or-nothing kind of person, I can't force myself to deal with an unrelated task, I just want to wait until everything is put back together and then I can dive into projects. That may be a while.

“we are in the habit of imagining our lives to be linear, a long march from birth to death in which we mass our powers, only to surrender them again, all the while slowly losing our youthful beauty. This is a brutal untruth. Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again.”

Alsoly, as my grandson says, I'm "wintering" in the physical way. The silver streaks are out and proud now, and when I pull my hair back I can no longer see the former color. I am getting a peek at how I'll look when this transition is complete, and so far, I like it. The color is pretty, and though I'm finding that some of my current wardrobe palette looks better (or worse) than before, I think the grey is mostly flattering. I appreciate the slow transition, no matter how strange it may look with these multi-toned tresses. The process is allowing me to come to terms with who I really am, no disguising the aging. It's shocking at times, but also comforting and affirming. "Oh, there you are, my friend! No need to cover up, you're beautiful! Why didn't you let the light shine through sooner?!"

Along with the hair dye, I've also released (thank you for the word, Kali) some other burdens, including the expectations (from myself and others) that I should look a certain way. Should behave a certain way because it's acceptable and expected of me. I stopped having my fingernails "done" months ago, no longer willing to sit in the salon and spend money so that my hands can look "fancier." With as much crafting as I do, and as little time as I spend in "society," it's simply not worth it to me anymore. My hands take a beating from the glue gun, the crochet hook, the sink of dishes, the chlorine and salt water...I am taking care of them as best I can with moisturizer and will probably get a manicure now & then, but the hours and dollars spent on gels are over. Done. I still get a pedicure every few months because I enjoy the experience and the end result, but the same isn't true for my fingers. My hands are hardworking. They can clean a home, create beautiful items that bring joy to others. They can dig holes for milkweed, build habitats, hold newly-born butterflies while they take their first flight.

They can bake bread, turn pages in story-after-story I read to my grandchildren. Most importantly, they can hug and console and hold hands with those babies. They're doing their job, and I'm grateful to them. They don't need to be embellished any further. The sight and feel of June's hand in mine is quite enough.

After an impulse moment of rejoining WW, I immediately felt buyers remorse and resentment. The same with the "food program" I followed to lose 25 pounds a couple years ago. I love the whole foods, completely agree that the way of eating is the healthiest and I still follow it..about 80% of the time. I have realized that I am simply not willing to live my whole life without a scone. Or a slice of my granddaughter's birthday cake. Or a bowl of pasta with homemade sauce. I am therefore releasing myself from that expectation. I like wearing Size 6 jeans, don't get me wrong, and hope that once I start walking again I'll fit into them more comfortably, but not if it means I return to the somewhat disordered thinking/eating that resulted in that smaller body. Life is simply too short for that.

Just as with my hands, my body is doing an excellent job taking care of me and others. I'm not as thin nor fit as some, but I can walk 3 miles barefoot in the beach, chase June around the yard, keep up with her in Disney World. After all of the running, when we are both tired, I can provide a soft spot for her to rest.

Though I'm no bikini model, my husband still thinks I'm beautiful. He still compliments me and shows his attraction to and appreciation of me, mind and body, in all of the ways I want and need. I hope that never ends, but I know that change is inevitable and eventually we will likely be unable to show our love in those same physical ways, but if and when it does, it won't be due to the number on the scale, just the date on the calendar and the number of candles on our birthday cakes.

So, I guess what I'm saying in this long ramble, is that winter is here, both the season of the earth as well as the season of my life. Along with all of the other stages & changes, I can either fight it tooth and nail or I can relax, lean into it, release the negative demands and embrace it for what it is. I'm not sure if I'd call it "aging gracefully," perhaps easing gratefully would be more like it.

Blessings,

Rapunzel

Wordless Wednesday

2023-01-25T17:59:00.000-05:00

Throwback Thursday & Mabon Blessings

2022-09-22T18:36:00.000-04:00

I've decided to do a little throwback posts on Thursdays, a chance to step back in time for a moment and revisit some moments from the past here in Blogland. This is from my first year of blogging, on this day in 2007. I've copied and pasted from the original, but updated a tiny bit where appropriate.

Ahh..Autumn, my favorite time of year! Witches are everywhere, Samhain is right around the corner! Even here in the tropics the weather changes ever-so-slightly, the sun shines differently, there's a little breeze. I turn inward, my Kitchen Witch comes out and I start spending more time over the hearth.

To celebrate Mabon, made a batch of Three Sisters from the cookbook, A Witch in the Kitchen by Cait Johnson.

Three Sisters Harvest Stew

This is a dish rich with textures, colors, and history. The "three sisters" refer to what the early Native Americans called corn, squash and beans.

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

3 to 4 garlic cloves, chopped

1 large carrot cut into 1-inch pieces

3/4 cup butternut squash, cubed (for a quicker-cooking variation, use 1 cup yellow or crookneck squash, cubed)

1 can beans, drained (garbanzos, with their harvest gold color, are my favorite, but you could try butter beans, small red beans, or pintos - whatever pleases you)

1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels

sea salt

1 dried chipotle pepper (optional)

Water or vegetable broth, as needed

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

In a large stew pot, heat the olive oil. Add the chopped onion and stir to coat with the oil. Sauté until golden, the add the garlic, carrot pieces, squash, beans, corn, sage, sea salt to taste, and the chipotle pepper, if you desire. Though the pepper is optional, the smoky taste is reminiscent of the first hearth fires of the season, perfect for autumn. Simmer the stew, adding the water or vegetable broth as needed, until the squash is tender, the add the parsley and stir thoroughly. Serve piping hot.

Notes: I used garbanzo beans as called for, frozen diced butternut squash for convenience, and Trader Joe's fire-roasted corn. I didn't have a chipotle pepper so I used a little Chipotle in Adobo for spice. So yummy! I would say this makes more like 4 servings, not 6, but perhaps that's because I eat it as a main course, and I have a big appetite. ;)

Brightest Mabon Blessings,

Rapunzel~

New (Birth) Year Resolution: Buy (Almost) Nothing New for a Year

2022-09-12T12:40:00.004-04:00

Like many of us, I've been reading a lot lately about overconsumption, consumerism, capitalism, etc. and how these things are impacting our planet. Obviously, it's not good, and something needs to change, but how? How much can one person truly do to make a difference?

I started looking at my own habits, and while I think I have some good ones (veganism, recycling, etc), there is definitely room for improvement. One glaringly obvious way, evidenced by my closet and my checkbook, is my clothing consumption. Now, I'm no fashionista, don't don designer duds nor dress to impress every day, but I do have a healthy shoe collection and like a new outfit as much as any girl. The problem is, I lean toward "fast fashion" for the very reason everyone does: It's cheap and it's available. I swear, I keep Old Navy in business. I'm there every season, stocking up on inexpensive sweaters in the cool months, tanks and light dresses during the warm ones. The quality isn't terrible, and the items last long enough, but inevitably they end up being donated to the charity shop or, god forbid, the landfill.

(In my defense, my weight tends to fluctuate which requires shopping for the right size since I rarely hold onto my "fat clothes." Good advice from the weight loss gurus, but not practical for those of us yo-yo dieters.)

So, what to do? How can I continue to wear the cute clothes I enjoy without contributing to the problem and also lessening the strain on my budget? One easy suggestion: Buy Second Hand. Now, I have been a thrift shopper for many years, spent hours with my mom or my daughters treasure hunting at one thrift store or another. I rarely leave a shop empty handed, always find some little token, a small dopamine-popping treat for myself or others. I don't rely on these places for the bulk of my wardrobe, though. The items are side dishes, not the entrees. This is where the change has to happen.

For the next year, I'm committing to these rules:

Buy (mostly) second hand, with certain exceptions. Lingerie, workout wear, socks, sneakers, etc. will be new, just due to my own personal hygiene phobias. I have purchased vintage boudoir nighties on occasion, but that's a story for another time. *wink*
Buy (mostly) only when needed, not on impulse, but that rule will be flexible because who truly can determine whether those stilettos are a need or a want? I mean, seriously!

Vintage handbag & pearls, new peep toe slingbacks

Clean out & clear out closet, sell or donate unwanted items.
Shop mindfully, paying attention to quality as well as price. Choose items that have some staying power, but a few trendy pieces are acceptable.
Be bold! Don't be afraid to break the rules! Wear what you want, not what "fashion" dictates. Be yourself, what's comfortable, but also try on some new looks and see how it feels!

That's what I have so far, and I've already made progress. Last week I took a pile of donations to our local humane society thrift store, and when I decided to reward myself with a new dress, I went to Poshmark instead of the mall.

I've been looking at some older photos of myself, from back when my kids were small, and remembering how much I liked those longer flowy dresses. I have a similar one (from Old Navy), a cute button down that's flattering and comfy, but it's been hard to find others. Well, apparently the 90's are now considered vintage (yikes!) and those dresses are all over the second hand clothing sites, often being touted as "cottage core." Hmm..ok. Well, how lucky for me!

I ended up purchasing a couple, both from the same brand, Betsy Lauren. This black floral maxi fit perfectly out of the package, just needed a quick wash and light iron! I love the lattice back and the button front!

I don't know about my dress being truly "vintage," but
Beren's Jeep certainly is!

I wore it out to brunch yesterday, felt pretty cute, and was delighted by the compliments from the adorable young server..and my handsome hubby.

The details:

Item: Vintage 1990s Betsy Lauren dress

Purchased: Poshmark

Cost: $18 plus tax & shipping: $25.51 Total

Expression on hubby's face: Priceless. ;)

Would anyone like to join me on this challenge? I know my friend Benzaiten has been chatting about this issue as well. Maybe we mature goddesses can start to make a difference, heal the world one second hand dress at a time!

Rapunzel~

Turtle Magic

2022-08-23T10:16:00.005-04:00

I am fortunate to live within steps of the ocean, and even after 8 years here, I do not take that blessing for granted. Ever. I try to visit the beach daily, usually for sunrise walks, but even if I'm out of town or miss those jaunts for some reason, I never go more than a week without sticking my toes in the sand. It's a ritual, therapy, workout, nature immersion, and, sometimes, a social occasion. Over the years, I've gotten to know the "regulars," the mostly-women-but-a-few-men who also push themselves out of bed while it's still dark outside and make their way to the shore to walk, bike, or just sit quietly with their coffee and watch the sun rise over the sea.

While every day is wonderful, each sunrise unique in its own way, now & then I'm treated to something truly special, an experience that is simply breathtaking and one which won't soon be forgotten. Over the past few weeks, I've had several of such moments.

Our county has a very active sea turtle patrol & rescue who really work hard to ensure that the turtle population grows & thrives. During nesting season, the volunteers (again, mostly women) can be seen observing turtle tracks, marking nests, putting up barriers, then, when the time is right, gently digging up the sand to count and record eggs (both viable and not), and give the hatchlings some assistance if needed. (More about that here: http://www.turtlepatrol.com/about-us.html)

It's quite rare to see a mama turtle nesting, and I had only witnessed this one time since moving here. Until July 26th. It was then that I came upon a Green Turtle who was digging the "body cave" into which she would lay her eggs. This was quite an event, let me tell you! She digs and tears with those massive flippers, sending sand and debris several feet into the air! Unfortunately, this lady appeared to be stuck in some plant life, and was struggling to continue her work. I called my "turtle lady" friend (whom I have on speed dial!) and she advised me to gently approach and untangle the growth. Oh. my. god. I kept D on the phone as I proceeded to do just that. I don't know who was more nervous, me or the mama, but I approached slowly and spoke to her gently, hoping to assure her that I wasn't there to harm, only help. She looked me in the eye, I swear she did, and seemed to understand. I backed up, and she proceeded with her task, seemingly unencumbered.

By this time, a small crowd had gathered, taking pictures and video, but remaining at a safe, respectful distance. We stood there for at least an hour, watching and waiting, until she completed her nesting and made her way to the shore. Barely a word was uttered, we were all truly awestruck and I spied a few of us were wiping tears from our eyes. It was simply magical, there's no other way to describe it, and I walked on air for the rest of the day, so grateful to have been a witness to this incredible event.

I've had a couple other wonderful turtle-related moments recently, but I think I'll hold off on sharing them for now. I just want to sit and relive this day, and thank Mother Nature again for her amazing creatures.

Michele~

PS Photos by my fellow sunrise walker, Linda Day.

BirthDay Musings

2022-08-22T11:51:00.001-04:00

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly,

but rarely admit the changes it has gone through

to achieve that beauty." ~ Maya Angelou

Saturday was my birthday, my 58th. I have lots of thoughts swirling around my head, about the day itself and also about the bigger meaning, the significance of the date, the passing of time, aging.

I've never been one to dwell on the number, haven't given much thought to growing older and what that entails, but this year is different. This year, I've decided to somewhat embrace the inevitable. I've stopped coloring my hair, letting the grays show. I'll admit, as much as the "Silver Sisters" movement encourages us to enjoy the "silver crown," I don't like how this looks. I don't care for the way the front of my head is different than the rest. I know it's a transition, it will take time (at least 2 years!), and I "should" be patient and enjoy the experience. Right now, though, I miss my brown with blonde highlights. I don't care for the way my skin looks against the gray hairline. (I'm also not happy with my weight, and that's probably part of my frustration, but that's another subject.) This sudden change, not the "natural" way as it would have been if I'd allowed the strands to come through over time, is hard. It's jarring. Along with some other changes to my body, aches & pains and weird things that are happening, I'm just feeling out of sorts. Not comfortable in my skin. I'm sure it's temporary and I'll adjust, but for now..I'm just a little sad.

I'm still processing, will likely have more to say once I get my head around it, but for now, I want to write, to share, to get these memories down somewhere that I can reflect on them at my leisure. Yes, I posted on Instagram and Facebook, but, to be honest, I'm growing weary (again) of social media and find myself turning back to blogging where I feel comfortable and safe.

Maybe, like the metaphorical caterpillar, I'm cocooning at the moment. I'm hunkering down and having some deep thoughts which may lead to big changes..or not. Perhaps I just need to take a breath, give myself a little time to regroup and settle into the changes that have happened already. Maybe nothing else is needed this year.

I'm not sure, but for now, I'm going to relish in the memories of the gorgeous celebration with my family. I'm going to appreciate the sweet gifts and the heartfelt greetings from friends. I'm just going to sit right here and count my blessings.

Michele~

Goodbye, My Friend

2021-04-24T08:20:00.001-04:00

It's been 12 days since we lost him, and I'm still processing, not ready to write about it yet. I know I should get these feelings out there, but every time I sit down to write something in me resists and I just can't. Maybe someday I will sit down and beautiful, eloquent words will flow and I'll be able to honor who he was, what he meant to me, but for now I'll just repost what I wrote in April of 2007.

I love you, "Strider," and will miss you every day of my life.

Re-post from April 13, 2007:

Since neither of my youngest daughters have been inspired to choose a "character" for my blog (apparently the nasty business of school and work consumes them), I'll move along and come back to them later. Ex-husband #1 and I share such a long, complicated history; it would take a novel-length post to tell our story! In a nutshell: he and Beren are best friends, have been for 35 years now. I dated Beren first, way back in the day when we were young and wild and a little bit crazy. When circumstances drove us apart, I had the good fortune to be "taken care of" by this amazing man who I went on to marry and create a child with. The marriage didn't last, but the friendship did, and it has only gotten stronger and deeper as we have co-parented and befriended each other through the years. He is a wonderful, passionate father who really opens his heart..a rare find in a man nowadays. He has been "with" me through thick and thin, the subsequent break-up of my second marriage and everything that lead up to it. Several years ago he gave me an amazing gift: he and Kali orchestrated a meeting between myself and Beren, the first time we'd laid eyes on each other in 20-something years. They had no idea what would happen, only that I still had feelings for Beren that I needed to explore further or put closure to. The rest is history, as they say, but I have the greatest admiration for this man who loved me, and his friend, enough to give us his blessing. When the rest of the world looked on in shock and disbelief at the situation, my ex-husband showed grace and dignity and acceptance. He was one of our few "cheerleaders," never losing hope that we would make it, that it would all work out. I can't speak for him, but I know that I feel completely loved by him in the most pure, sincere way, and I believe that Beren feels the same. So, that's the condensed version of the story, and my introduction to Strider..a/ka/ Aragorn..ex-husband to me, best friend to Beren, father of Kali. He says that he chose Strider because he is heroic & chivilrous, and I think that describes him perfectly.

Rest

2021-01-07T10:01:00.001-05:00

I'm taking a course by the author Patti Digh called First 37 for 2021. Each day we receive writing prompts and encouragement to go deeper, live with intention, create more meaning in our lives. I am really enjoying it so far, already feel more peaceful and enlightened and am enjoying the community of Like-minded people. Well, today's instruction consisted of just one word: REST.

After the insanity and chaos of yesterday's political drama, that's just what I intend to do today. I'm going to breathe deeply, move slowly and allow my body and mind to calm down. There's a lot of work to be done in our country, and I hope to do my part, but for today, some healing is needed.

Have a beauty-full day,

Rapunzel

On My Hearth: Creole Black-eyed Peas

2021-01-06T09:02:00.005-05:00

photo by Kali

Because 2020 was such a freaking mess (to put it mildly), I am not taking any chances with this year! Not only did I make my own batch of lucky black-eyed peas, I also gifted a bag of Rancho Gordo to each of my daughters. Everyone prepared her own recipe, wish I could have tasted them all but, alas, distance prevented that from happening. I had to settle for just my own, which is so delicious and, like every recipe from Susan Voisin, is always a hit!

My photo doesn't do it justice, head over to FatFree Vegan Kitchen and grab the recipe for Creole Black-eyed Peas. I usually serve it with a hunk of cornbread alongside, but after a few indulgent holiday meals, I need to get back on track with my eating plan before my jeans are any tighter! I'm starting with Square One, listening to Chef AJ each morning as I walk, cleaning up my kitchen and preparing compliant meals. I'll have those few pounds gone in no time.

The walking is so important, I really feel it when I miss a couple days in a row. So, back to regular movement, structure and focus and routine!

Have a beauty-full day,

Rapunzel~

Structure

2021-01-05T08:45:00.003-05:00

Each January I choose a word or phrase to be the theme for the year, and this year is no different. I wanted to select something spiritual or meaningful, thinking that the last 9 months of Covid lockdown should have resulted in a personal revelation of sorts. Honestly, no such thing happened. What the pandemic has done is confirmed the truths I already knew about myself, and given me "permission" to embrace the things I wasn't quite willing to before. I'm no longer going to apologize for being an introvert, for needing a lot of alone time, for preferring to stay home, for not enjoying crowds and noise. There's nothing wrong with wanting to hunker down with my husband and my pets, read a book or binge on Netflix. I'm not a bad friend if I would rather meet at a coffee shop for an hour or two than commit to a full day or night of socialization. While I understand that as grownups we sometimes have to step outside our comfort zones, do things because our family or friends enjoy them, that is more the exception than the rule from here on. Forced social distancing has helped me shore up some boundaries I was already building, and that feels good. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a hermit committing to a life of solitude; I enjoy the company of friends and family! I'm just more and more discerning about where and with whom I want to spend my leisure time.

So, the primary word for 2021, the one that's been coming up for me for some time, is..

Since retiring and moving to Ormond, I've had a lot more time on my hands, and find myself wasting too much of it. At the end of the day, I look back and realize that I've spent too many hours puttering around the house, scrolling social media, and generally floating through my day with little accomplished at the end of it. For months now I've been trying to implement a routine to add some structure and meaning to my days, and I think I have a plan in place or at least a rough draft which can be tweaked as needed.

Also, I am choosing a second word, one that served me well a couple of years ago and continues to pop into my head many times a day..

Whenever I get distracted, I gently remind myself to focus, pay attention to the task at hand, be in the present moment. There's rarely anything so urgent that needs my immediate action, I don't need to multitask. It's fine, preferable in fact, to just focus on this one thing. Whether it's a text message, a fleeting thought, a nagging reminder..it can wait its turn. Breathe. Everything in good time.

So, that's where I am right now. Still building, putting a concrete plan in place, but I know what I want the finished product to look like, how I'd like to spend my days on the whole. That's half the battle, right?

Rapunzel~

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

2020-10-24T09:51:00.007-04:00

Yesterday in a nutshell: Helped rescue a bird. Met a strange dude who I'm forever referring to as "the merman." Voted. Ate donuts. Drove to IKEA, which was surprisingly calm and felt safer than some of the other places I've shopped during the pandemic. Watched the (recorded) debate and growled at the TV. Went to be exhausted yet maybe a little bit hopeful. This will all get better, right?

Today I'm going to hunker down at home because that was quite enough adventure for one week.

Have a beautiful day,

Rapunzel~

A Rather Blustery Day

2020-10-19T09:26:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was another dreary one, raining on & off for most of the day. While I could have braved the weather and tried to walk, I didn't want to take the chance of getting stuck out there. So, I stayed home and planned to do all sorts of things with that "found" time, but instead I pouted and peered out the window and complained about the bikers who, despite the pandemic and pouring rain, still showed up for Biketoberfest and insisted on racing up and down the street near my house, ruining my quiet Sunday. Yes, I've become that woman, the crotchety old lady who just wants peace & quiet, dammit! If I have to be locked in my house, I want it to be as pleasant as possible, please. Grrr..

Anyway, I managed to salvage the day (and my mood, sort've) by crafting & cooking, watching TV & reading, as per usual. Thanks to my friend Benzaiten who told me about this new Hulu series, Love in the Time of Corona. It's sweet, thoughtful, and, of course, relevant. Chip and I watched a couple of episodes, and I look forward to more later today.

On my hearth was this easy slowcooker recipe, Butternut Squash Red Lentil Stew.

I mostly followed the recipe, didn't bother sautéeing the veggies and spices beforehand, just dumped them into the Crockpot and cooked on High for a few hours until the squash was fork tender, then stirred in spinach and coconut milk until heated through. Since I don't typically cook with oil, I left that out as well, making this dish perfectly meet my whole food, plant-based no oil criteria. (WFPBNO). I topped with a sprig of cilantro & served over steamed jasmine rice.

The Verdict: Absolutely delicious! It was just the right amount of spice for me, but a less heat-tolerant diner may want to cut down or leave out the cayenne. I regret that I can't make a prettier presentation; you'll have to trust me that it tastes much better than it looks!

So far, today is no less blustery but the rain has cleared out (along with the bikers!) and the skies are mostly clear. I understand that more wet weather is headed our way so I took my window of opportunity and hit the sand at sunrise. Ah..with my feet in the sand, wind in my hair & the latest Brené Brown podcast episode in my ears (thank you, Lily!), it was the perfect way to kick off my Monday.

Have a Beautiful Day,

Rapunzel~

On My Hearth: Rainy Day Chili

2020-10-18T07:03:00.006-04:00

This dish is so easy, hardly a recipe, yet when I've tried to be fancy and make other more complicated versions, I'm not happy. This one tastes the most like the chili my mom used to make, the one she'd put together on a chilly Saturday.morning and we'd "eat off of" all weekend long. Of course, Mom's version contained a pound of ground beef and was "sopped up" with white bread, but still..this invokes the same feeling of warmth and comfort. I have been making this chili for so many years, it's a family favorite and a go-to on rainy, dreary days or when we're craving a bit of hearty comfort food.

Rainy Day Chili

3 cups (2 cans) cooked beans (kidney, black bean, etc)

1 1/2 cups frozen veggie crumbles (we like Gardein)

1 can diced tomatoes, fire-roasted for best flavor (to 2 cans)

1 envelope chili seasoning mix

Diced onion and/or bell pepper, optional

Add all ingredients to a slow cooker and walk away for the day!

At dinnertime, scoop and serve topped with vegan sour cream & cheese shreds, oyster crackers, chopped scallions..whatever you like.

We like a nice big hunk of cornbread with our chili, haven't found a better one than the Trader Joe's mix. I veganize it by using Follow Your Heart egg replacer.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday was such a day. So windy & grey, I trudged through my morning walk, struggling against the wind for most of the 3+ miles. Though the colors of the sky weren't as vibrant as usual, even a muted sunrise is a joy to witness!

It seems we have had quite a few of those grey days lately, doesn't it? And I don't mean just due to weather. The weight of the world, the worries over the pandemic, politics, etc. are bearing down so heavily right now. It's no wonder that so many of us are cooking and baking more than usual, and not just because we have newfound time to do so. I think there's a bigger reason for tidying up our homes, donning our aprons and heading into the kitchen. We're all so afraid, feeling so helpless, and we want to provide a safe place for ourselves and our loved ones. So we, especially women, do what we have always done. We make a home. We prepare a meal. We gather family & friends around our hearth and feed them comfort in one of the few ways we can. Cooking for someone is my love language, and I know I'm not alone in that. It's also a way I cope with my anxiety. When things get crazy in my life, or simply in my head, I cook. Chopping and measuring, mixing and pouring, these motions calm my spirit and quiet my mind while also producing something delicious to share. It's a healthy coping mechanism, and one I turned to many times this year, and, if the headlines are any indication, I'll likely be doing again and again.

Rapunzel~

Reflections

2020-08-29T10:53:00.005-04:00

Confession: I'm not in a good place. As I touched on in my last post, I'm really having hard time. Emotionally. Mentally. And yes, I guess physically because they're all connected, right? I'm not sleeping well, waking up multiple times a night and then exhausted all day. My appetite is off, forgetting to eat and then forcing myself to choke down healthy meals instead of the comfort food I'm really craving. My mind is cluttered, my brain foggy. It's all I can do to get through the minimal chores to maintain the house, and the only real peace I feel is the 90 minutes I spent each morning walking the beach. I know I need help, that it's time to call in a therapist, because I know my anxiety and depression and how it can spiral really quickly. I've promised my family I'll make that call, but for now, I'm trying to process and figure out what's going on, why I'm struggling so. Here's what I've come up with so far..

I'm scared. I'm angry. I feel vulnerable. I am literally afraid to leave my house, and not just because of Covid. When I look deep inside my heart, I realize I'm also afraid of "them," the "others," the non-mask-wearing-confederate-flag-wearing-Trump-supporting-antiBLM-progun people who make up the majority of my town. I feel ok at home, safe inside my house with Rachel Maddow and Trevor Noah and NPR feeding me the news, two Biden signs and flag displayed on our property. I'm comfortable when I only talk to my like-minded friends & family, bemoaning the state of the country, collectively hoping & praying for change and seeking ways we can make a difference. But, it only takes a few steps from my front door to feel differently. One can't avoid the giant Trump flags on the millionaire's concrete walls, the multiple signs dotting the neighbors' lawns. It's obvious that we don't share the same political opinions, but it's more than that. Because to believe in him, to still actively support him, means so much more than Democrat vs Republican. What it means, to me, is that we don't share the same core beliefs or values. A vote for him is a vote for children in cages, for fewer rights for my LGBTQ community. Supporting him means that you don't support a woman's right to choose, no only whether or not to give birth but even for who can touch her body without her permission. By placing that sign in your yard you are in fact stating that you don't mind that the President of the United States sexually abused women. That he proudly boasts of his predatory habits, that he grabs women by the pussy and kisses them whether they like it or not. That he has had multiple affairs and has paid hush money to keep those women quiet. On and on and on it goes, one horrible misdeed after another to the point where we aren't even shocked anymore because nothing he does surprises us. Anything is possible with this man. Yet for his base, nothing he has done is vile enough to turn them against him, and that absolutely blows my mind! I understand towing the party line, I truly do. I was raised by Republican parents, my father used his last vote on earth to mark the circle next to Donald's name because, as he said with a shrug, "Who else do we have? He's our guy." No amount of discussion could change his mind, and it literally made me sick to put that ballot in the mailbox. So, I get it, those who have always voted Republican for one reason or another, but this time is different. This isn't normal. This election has more at stake that any other time in our nation's history. I don't think it's an exaggeration to state that this time it's a matter of life and death.

When I go outside and I see the signs, or people blatantly ignoring the CDC's mask guidelines because it's only suggested and not mandatory in my city, I cringe, and then I seethe. I, who am open minded, so accepting of others beliefs, who embraces differences and tries my best to learn and grow from them, simply can't tolerate this. I have tried. I have made so many attempts to find common ground, see the good in people, but I can't do it. I just can't. This past election, this president, has created so much dissention that what started out as a line in the sand grew to a crater, and now it's so deep and so wide that I can't form a bridge across it. Indeed, I want to build a moat round my castle, bring in only the people who believe and feel as strongly as I do. We could brainstorm together, commiserate, weep and console each other with good food and hot tea and comfort. When one of us grows too weary to hold onto hope, our sisters and brothers will shore us up, remind us to fight the good fight, assure us that we aren't alone and that in the end goodness and truth will prevail. I desperately need to believe this right now, don't you?

So, who's with me? I'll put the kettle on, you bring the biscuits. See you soon.

Rapunzel~

You're Aging Well

2020-08-26T05:25:00.003-04:00

"I'm so glad that you finally made it here
With the things you know now, that only time could tell
Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are
And oh, you're aging, oh and I am aging,
Oh, aren't we aging well?" ~ Dar Williams

https://youtu.be/aETWMI2XMnk

I recently celebrated my 56th birthday and, as is my tradition, I started the day with a long walk on the beach and a weepy listen to the beautiful song above. Since being introduced to it, and Dar herself, way back in the late 90's, it has become the birthday anthem for myself and the dear friends who discovered her with me.

I had a wonderful day with family, blessed with delicious food & Kali-baked cake, generous, thoughtful gifts, cuddles from grandchildren and puppies..who could ask for more? I felt very special and loved.

The next day we donned our masks and ventured out to the museum, the first real outing I've had since the pandemic. It was lovely to walk around, observing social distancing, look at the natural wonders and awe at the butterflies.

And now, back home and normal life, whatever that is. I admit, the situation is wearing on me. I'm a little depressed, a bit more anxious than usual, and unfortunately don't see an end in sight. I'm trying to remain hopeful, but between the virus, the politics, the civil unrest, and the wildfires, I'm overwhelmed and having a hard time seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I'm trying, really I am. Every day I wake up, take my sunrise walk, thank the Universe for another day on the planet, and try to do my best to make some sort of positive impact, however small. It's not easy, and I'm one of the lucky ones. I don't have to worry about where my next meal is coming from, or if I'll be able to pay my rent this month. I'm not afraid of getting shot in the street, in my car, or in my bed. I'm privileged. I know this, and I bear some guilt/shame for even daring to complain when there are those so much worse off, who don't have the luxury of just staying home to stay safe. So, I'll try to be more grateful, less whiny about the small ways my life has changed. But I'll also allow myself to feel the grief and loss and the fear of the unknown, because that's real and true and honest and we all need to talk about these feelings to get through them, right? And I'll do what I can about the things I can control. I'll take the best care of myself and my family that I can. I'll support small businesses who share my values. I'll make donations to causes that matter to me. I'll stay present, keep learning and growing. And I'll use my voice and power November 3rd to help vote for change. Because whatever the "after times" look like, they have to be better than right now. We have to ensure that they are.

Rapunzel~

The Way We Were

2020-05-23T09:17:00.000-04:00

I have spent most of the quarantine on a huge project that has occupied my mind, my hands, and my heart. I have gathered up every single photo in my home, begun sorting & scanning, tagging & uploading, then finally filing digitally as well as physically. Since our family are avid photographers and since I inherited both of my parents' collections, this ads up to an enormous amount of photographs dating back to the 1950s. Some of them have been carefully preserved, dated and subject identified, but the majority were stuck in albums or haphazardly tossed into boxes over the years. To my credit, my own personal pictures, especially those from my daughters' younger years, were among the aforementioned, making them easy to sort & file. (Thank you, younger self!) Still, the task is daunting and several times I've closed the door to my craft room closet, thrown up my hands and declared myself finished, announced to my family that they will inherit the mess and can do with it what they wish. But that doesn't last long. A day or two later I decide to peek in, grab a stack, take a deep breath and begin again.

As you might imagine, the process has been not only challenging physically, straining my eyes, my neck, my back as I sit for hours sifting and scanning, but it's been emotionally draining as well. I've dredged up so many lost memories, dusted off forgotten moments in time, become reacquainted with old friends & lovers as well as past versions of myself I thought I'd left behind. Some of this has been happy and exciting, some absolutely wrenching. Letters from my mom, cards from my dad. Journals and calendars filled with stories, snapshots of my life at various stages. Adorable toddler. Awkward, angsty pre-teen. Young adult. New mom. Divorced mom. (Repeat). So much stuff, so much emotion! It can be overwhelming, so I check in with myself, only do as much work in one day as my body & heart feel able. I aim for an hour a day and then see how I feel. Sometimes that's enough and I move on, but other days I can spend four or five hours back there, holed up with my music & memories.

I get so caught up in the task, immersed in whatever era I'm working on, that when I emerge & pass by Beren, sitting in our dining room/pseudo office, I'm surprised to see him, this person who wasn't a part of "that" life, at least another than a couple of snapshots & calendar entries from one blissful teenage year. Yet here he is, as is my current home, belongings, pets. And as I catch a glance of myself in the mirror, it's not the ten-year or 20-year or even 30-year-old self I see reflected back at me. Who is this older woman, and how do I reconcile her with those other versions? Is she who I expected to be, oh so long ago when I painstakingly sat and preserved those photos, those mementos, knowing that one day I'd be doing exactly as I am right now?

Probably not, and that's part of what I'm processing. As painful as this is, I also am driven, almost manically so, to complete this task, to have my life tidied and in order before...? Before what? Yes, before I die. Morbid, perhaps, but the reality is that I am on the other side of middle age and all that that entails. My memory is already not as sharp as it once was, and if I don't record the stories now, they'll be gone forever. I don't want my children to inherit a mess of random bits of my life, of their lives, without rhyme or reason. I want to sort it out before I pass, leave behind order instead of chaos. In thinking of it this way, I'm not "just" doing a mindless organizational project, or even a therapeutic exercise for myself, it's a labor of love for my family. A gift to them. And it's that mindset, that goal, that keeps me going, photo by photo, memory by memory, moment by moment.

Rapunzel~

2020-05-10T06:06:00.000-04:00

This past Friday, my Lily graduated with her Masters in Social Work! Thanks to the Coronavirus, we had to cancel our family trip to be there with her which the most disappointing, heartbreaking part of this experience thus far. We all so wanted to watch her walk across the stage, receive that hard-earned diploma, cheer and weep with pride. Take her to lunch after, raise a glass of sparkling cider in her honor. Instead, we had to do that through a virtual commencement and a Zoom meeting.

It certainly wasn't the same, and not nearly good enough for her, for us, but we made the best of it and look forward to a real celebration once we're together again. (soon, goddess willing).

Today is Mother's Day, and I'm filled with mixed emotions. Excited to drive to be with Kali & Bambi & babies, but am missing Lily so much, nothing feels complete without her. I'm also missing my own mom, and am thinking how proud she would be of Lily, and how happy she was on her own graduation day. It was "only" an Associates Degree, but she was the first in her family to have any type of formal education, and she was very proud of that fact, as well she should be. I vaguely remember her own graduation day, but can't recall the date. I'm guessing 1986 or early 1987..

Congratulations, Mom. Your namesake accomplished something amazing! I wish you were here to see her.

Rapunzel~

A New Day

2020-05-04T10:54:00.000-04:00

Eight years have passed since my last post, and wow has a lot changed! I won't attempt to catch up on everything, just jumping in where I am now, and the stories will unfold as they see fit to do. I'm not even sure why I'm writing here again as blogging has become a bit passé, no? It seems to have been replaced with various other social media (Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, to name a few) it seems unnecessary and perhaps even redundant to also blog about one's life. Yet, here I am, doing just that. And it appears I'm not alone, I see other friends return to this format or to other ways they have expressed themselves in the past. One friend is blogging after a long absence. My daughter has created a virtual zine. Maybe it's nostalgia, a yearning for a simpler time, or the general trend toward less clutter, busy-ness, which for some of us includes idle screen time. Or, maybe it's the pandemic. Maybe we want to memorialize this, this insane moment in history, one which will be discussed, debated, dissected by generations to come. Maybe we want to leave our marks in some way, tell our stories in our own voices. Maybe we are facing our own mortality. Or, perhaps we simply have more hours now, stuck in lockdown, to think, to dream, to write, to create. To breathe.

Whatever the reason, I see this collective inward turning as a good thing, a bright spot in an otherwise dark & scary place, and hope that on the other side we are better, stronger people for have taken this pause to draw inward a little, then reach out in the ways that feel most comfortable, most relative, to ourselves.

So, as for myself, well, to be honest, there has been some relief mixed in with the anxiety and fear. Underneath the constant undercurrent of stress & worry, deep down, there's a peacefulness that comes with the realization that my social calendar, limited as it was, is now completely bare. I no longer feel the pressure to go out when I don't feel like, to socialize when I'd rather stay home alone, go and do and be something that isn't really who I am! I have kept my circle really small, and my commitments minimal, but still..there were many days when I would have prefered to sit on my couch and read rather than go out to dinner, for coffee, to lunch..whatever I felt that I needed to do to keep up with what was expected of me socially, societally. I always suspected that I was an introvert, but once I quit drinking two years ago I realized just how much that was true, how often I used alcohol to force myself to do things I'd have preferred not to do. With that came more knowledge about myself, and eventually acceptance for not being the someone I pretended to be. Or tried to be. Or felt pressured to be. I stopped apologizing for not being her, and summoned the courage to say no. No, I don't want to go to happy hour. No, I don't want to go to a restaurant where there is nothing healthy/vegan on the menu. I choose not to sit at a crowded bar and listen to loud music while squished up against drunk people. No, no, no. No, thank you. I found my voice, and discovered that the sky didn't fall after all. My real friends & family still love me even though I am sober now. My husband, though admittedly misses the "fun" times of drinking with me, didn't leave me and we have found other ways to enjoy each other's company that don't involve alcohol. Nothing bad happened, and so many good things did!

So, all of this to say: I had already been a little bit isolated. I'd already turned inward, discovered new past times and picked up long lost hobbies. Baked and cooked, read & crocheted. Cleaned & organized. Embraced my homebody nature. That part hasn't been hard for me. Except, and this is a HUGE exception: my family. I miss my children and grandchildren desperately. Which is why, after 8 weeks of being apart, I took a calculated, careful risk and went to see them last week. And it was everything. Everything sweet and wonderful and poignant and beautiful and heartwrenching and I will never, ever forget the moment when A ran to me, arms outstretched and gave me the biggest, best hug I have ever had. Grabbing all of my grandbabies, holding my daughters tight, something I never really took for granted but is even more precious now.

Now, we wait. We keep doing what we have been for the past couple of months, sit tight, be safe, be careful, stay healthy. Wash hands. Wear masks. Hope & pray that this passes soon while wondering what the "new normal" will look like. In the meantime, I'll keep looking inward, deciding what I'll bring with me from my old life, and what parts I'll leave behind. I think I'll keep writing, for myself, so that I will remember.

Michele~

We Tied the Knot!

2012-03-02T09:52:00.001-05:00

Alongside our family and a few dear friends, Beren and I tied the knot on Wednesday, February 29th. We're away on honeymoon so will post more when we return, but I'd like to share a few moments of our special day..

The Handfasting Circle

Two of my "bridesmaids," aka beautiful daughters

With my Dad and his lovely lady

With my Bio Dad and Stepmom

Do we look happy or what?

Pretty in Ink

2012-02-04T09:42:00.001-05:00

Despite the fact that my daughter is a tattoo artist, I'm not a fan of tattoos. In fact, some might say I have a deep dislike for them. Don't get me wrong, I have seen some beautiful pieces done by some very talented artists, Kali included, but I would prefer to see the artwork on the wall, not their bodies.

Also, despite the fact that I love witches, vampires, and many things other-wordly, I don't care for the Twilight books. I read the first, barely making it to the end, and gave the movie a chance. It was, eh. I don't understand the hype, will take Sookie Stackhouse and her sexy adult paranormal companions anytime!

However, I found this article and photo below quite interesting indeed. Taken from the comments posted, a lot of folks think she's silly to say the least. Me? I think if a 50-year old woman can lose 14 dress sizes, she should treat herself to any damned thing she pleases! If that's a full back tattoo of the Twilight characters, then by goddess she should go for it! The only thing is, our Jesus could've done an even better job.

Have a Beauty-Full Day,