Sometimes you just have to stop and smell the roses...or the coffee...and remember that it's the little things in life that can bring so much joy, if only we allow ourselves time to savor the moments and not just focus on everything that is swirling around us.  As I walked into my kitchen this morning here are the things that made me smile...

 

 Downton Abbey tea towels, a little treat for myself on my last trip to Door County

Both of the Countess' sayings simply couldn't be more true right now...

While love has been plentiful, the "strong cups of coffee' have been sadly few and far between due to our coffee pot being on its last legs...it has been taking over an hour to painstakingly slowly drip out ONE cup!!

So you can imagine my delight when I discovered a coffee machine on sale for 75% off yesterday!  This morning I had a fresh hot cup of coffee in my hands only minutes after waking up.  And that, my friends, is a seriously good thing.

And as I poured my first cup, using my "happy memories" mug from my recent trip to Martha's Vineyard, a glimpse out my kitchen window reminded me once again to treasure the journey...

And of course one of the things I truly cherish is my friendship with all of you that take the time to share a cup of tea and read about my day.  You are so appreciated! 

Final thought for the day...here's a sneak peek of something else I think I will cherish...a new cookbook! I'll share details tomorrow...I wish you were here to enjoy a cup of tea and a scone with me!

I'll finish today's post on a light-hearted note with The Laughing Song by Hoosier poet James Whitcomb Riley.  I hope you enjoy it and that today you will also take a moment to find joy in the simple things of life!


Sing us something full of laughter;
Tune your harp and twang the strings
Till our glad voice, chipring after,
Mates the song the robin sings.
Loose your lips and let them flutter
Like the wings of wanton birds--
Though they naught but laughter utter,
Laugh, and we'll not miss the words.

Like the lisping laughter glancing
From the meadow brooks and springs,
Or the river's ripples dancing
to the tune the current sings--
Sing of Now, and the Hereafter;
Let your glad song, like the birds',
Overflow with limpid laughter--
Laugh, and we'll not miss the words.

That's how the light gets in...

Somehow it's Friday and I realize I haven't posted all week!  I can't say the week has flown by, because it has certainly felt like each hour has crawled by, with lots of stress and upset along the way.  Sometimes it becomes difficult to juggle time, as the poem below reflects--trying to be all things to all the people in your life can create a crazy imbalance.  Work demands, family worries, the tug of your heart for people who are going through tough times, can all take their toll.  At least the weekend is now waving a cheery hello and will hopefully offer a small but oh so necessary respite from all the stress.

I came across a poem last night that really resonated with how life seems at the moment.  Barbara Crooker's In the Middle deftly reflects on being stuck in the middle of a complicated life, striving for the balance that sometimes seems so out of reach...

 In the Middle

of a life that's as complicated as everyone else's,
struggling for balance, juggling time.
The mantle clock that was my grandfather's
has stopped at 9:20; we haven't had time
to get it repaired. The brass pendulum is still,
the chimes don't ring. One day I look out the window,
green summer, the next, the leaves have already fallen,
and a grey sky lowers the horizon. Our children almost grown,
our parents gone, it happened so fast. Each day, we must learn
again how to love, between morning's quick coffee
and evening's slow return. Steam from a pot of soup rises,
mixing with the yeasty smell of baking bread. Our bodies
twine, and the big black dog pushes his great head between;
his tail, a metronome, 3/4 time. We'll never get there,
Time is always ahead of us, running down the beach, urging
us on faster, faster, but sometimes we take off our watches,
sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh
of rope and the net of stars, suspended, tangled up
in love, running out of time.

Hopefully there will be time this weekend to take off our watches and lie in the hammock (except I don't wear a watch and don't have a hammock).  If not, I'll try to remember the beautiful lyrics from Leonard Cohen's Anthem...

 

 The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be...
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in. 

May you have a peace filled weekend, and find the light, no matter how it gets in...

Behold I show you a great mystery...

Baby robin found my "secret" birdbath!

So I had this little mystery going on right under my nose!  Earlier this summer, nestled in amongst the honeysuckle and the cone-flowers was a little plant I didn't recognize.  Since I've been known on more than one occasion to plant a perennial and then promptly forget about it, I thought it best to leave the poor thing alone and see what it became.

But I didn't expect that, like Jack's miraculous beanstalk, it would grow...and grow...and then grow some more!  I tried to identify it online, but couldn't find anything that looked quite right.  I felt a little silly, because the more it grew, the more I was sure I was watering and giving shelter to some particularly vigorous weed!  I sent this photo to my mother, who wondered if it was some sort of rhubarb plant.  No...that didn't seem quite right.

Then a colleague of mine mentioned a plant in her garden that she was worried about...evidently it was quite large and rather nasty.  And by nasty I mean dangerous--evidently touching it and then rubbing your eyes could lead to permanent blindness!  What??!!  So of course I "googled" some more and discovered that perhaps it was the plant featured in the book I was currently reading!  Don't you love it when things like that happen?

But was my plant a giant hogweed?  I'd never heard of one before, outside of the English frolics of Professor Shandy et al (see the book above) and while Google insisted it existed in Wisconsin, my county wasn't listed.  Google also assured me that claims of blindness were correct, so I decided to not touch it until a definitive identification was reached.

Then on our last trip to Door County, during a hike I came upon this plant, which the ranger I identified as cow parsnip.  Hmmm, it looked a close cousin!  Maybe this was my plant?  The blooms were pretty, but evidently it still can cause skin irritation so I continued to give my monster plant a wide berth at home. 

And then this happened...

Followed in short order over the course of last week...

I am filled with chagrin.  I lived in Kansas for seven years during college and my first teaching job, and somehow failed to recognize...

a sunflower???  Take that, Curse of the Giant Hogweed!  Hello, Mr. Sunshine!  And special thanks to the little bird that kindly shared a seed in my garden...may you multiply and bring me all sorts of sunshine in my garden! 

Sunflowers

By José Antonio Rodríguez

No pitying/“Ah” for this one
—Alan Shapiro

No, nor a fierce hurrah

for what it does without choice,

for following the light

for the same reason the light follows it.

Just a thing rough to the touch, a face

like a thousand ticks turning their backs,

suckling at something you can’t see,

and a body like a tag off the earth

so that my child hands couldn’t tear it out

from the overgrown lot next door.

             My palms raw with the shock

of quills and spines. Its hold like spite, and ugly

except when seen from a distance—

a whole field of them by the highway,

an 80-mile-per-hour view

                           like a camera’s flash.

All of them like halos

without saints to weigh them down.

May your day be filled with sunshine, and a small mystery or two to keep life interesting!

Thirty one years ago today I was blessed with the birth of my first son.  I didn't know love could go so deep or be so vast, or so many years later still be so strong and pure.  We named him Michael, from the Hebrew meaning "who is like God".  A good, strong name for a little boy who has become a good, strong man. 

Growing up I had siblings  who I loved a lot, plus lots of young cousins. I babysat in high school, earned a teaching degree, taught Sunday School and in general, pretty much loved kids.  But nothing prepared me for the love that washed over me when I held my firstborn in my arms and realized we were linked at the heart, forever.  I was astonished at the depth and breadth and take-your-breath-away feelings that I had never known existed before.  In short, I became a mother.

 Close your eyes 

 Have no fear 

The monster's gone

  He's on the run and your mommy's here
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

Beautiful boy 

 Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

 Beautiful boy

 
Before you go to sleep

  Say a little prayer

  Every day in every way

  It's getting better and better
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

 Beautiful boy

  Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

 Beautiful boy

 
Out on the ocean sailing away 

 I can hardly wait to see you come of age

  But I guess, we'll both just have to be patient 

'Cause it's a long way to go, a hard row to hoe 

 Yes, it's a long way to go but in the meantime 
Before you cross the street 

Take my hand 

 Life is what happens to you

  While you're busy making other plans
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

 Beautiful boy

  Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful 

 Beautiful boy

 

And thirty years ago today, another mother was holding her beautiful little girl in her arms, calling her Gena, which derives from the Italian name for Queen. How appropriate.  For she grew up to become the queen of my son's heart.

 They said you have me wrapped around your finger

Like the ribbons that you wear in your hair

Maybe 'cause when i see your little fingers holdin' onto mine

I don't have a care

You've got me buyin' you bows and dresses

Oh, what a beautiful mess that this is

I think I'm in love

She's two foot three

Eyes blue and green

I just can't get enough

She got my heels over my head

Or better yet, she got me movin' to the beat of her drum

And if love were time, i would spend all mine

Just livin' inside her world

'cause she's daddy's baby girl

Soon she'll crawl, then walk, then talk, she's here for a while

Then sweet sixteen, and like a dream, she's down the aisle

And the little girl grew into a beautiful princess:

The two beloved children went off to school:

And grew into beautiful, intelligent young adults, ready to head off to college:

Where they met and became super-heroes:

They discovered they shared the same birthday as well as the same major, and more importantly,   the same family values and love of God and family.  And over time they grew to realize they shared something else....a beautiful love for each other.

 And so they decided to begin a fairy tale of their own.

And now the special world of love that they have created has grown to include their darling daughter, who has stolen their hearts (and their hats) in the same way that they stole ours years ago...

So on this special day I wish my wonderful son and his beautiful wife all the very best that life has to offer.  You are loved more than you can possibly imagine, and we are so very proud of both of you.

  Happy, happy birthday!

would you care to sit with me?

I may have yearned for George as a teenager (I always went for the quiet, misunderstood band members) but over the years I've developed a deep affection for many of Paul McCartney's lyrics. Here's a favorite song of mine from his album Chaos and Creation in the Backyard.  The album title seems to fit my garden as well! 

Would you care to sit with me
For a cup of English tea?

Very twee, very me

 Any sunny morning

What a pleasure it would be
Chatting so delightfully

Nanny bakes fairy cakes
Every Sunday morning

Miles of miles of English garden
Stretching past the willow tree

 

Lines of hollyhocks and roses

Listen most attentively

Do you know the game croquet?
Peradventure we might play

Very gay, hip hooray

Any sunny morning

As a rule the church bells chime

When it's almost supper time  

Nanny bakes fairy cakes

On a Sunday morning

Would you care to sit with me

and have a cup of English tea??

I know I've shared these lyrics before, but just like a wonderful poem deserves more than one reading, good song lyrics should be re-visited and enjoyed often.  Aren't we lucky to be able to include poetry---music---gardens---in our lives each and every day?  The lovely pink teacup and saucer on the gazing ball?  It was my great grandmother's...one more thing I treasure every day! 

all the hours we leave behind...

I love my new gazing ball in my garden!  I had wanted one for quite some time, and lo and behold, as we were cleaning out our building at work for all the summer remodeling, someone found a few boxes of gazing balls that were used as donor gifts years ago.  I was delighted to make a home for this one, nestled in among my coneflowers.  I love how it captures the clouds as they drift by.  Sometimes I wonder, if I gaze at it long enough...will memories of summers past drift by as well? 

Perhaps not, but this lovely poem, The Ordinary, by Kirsten Dierking, does a nice job of summoning special memories of summers past...

It's summer, so

I miss visiting Custer State Park with my family...

the pink gingham shorts,

the red mower, the neat rows

of clean smelling grass

unspooling behind

the sweeping blades.

a glimpse of my garden through the deck railing...

A dragonfly, black body

big as a finger, will not leave

the mower alone,

loving the sparkle

of scarlet metal,

seeing in even a rusting paint

the shade of a flower.

I miss my aunt's amazing cutting garden in Indiana...

But I wave him off,

conscious he is

wasting his time,

conscious I am

filling my time

with such small details,

distracting colors,

and I miss my aunts even more (Aunt Mary, Aunt Freda and Aunt Nellie with my mother @ 1965.  I am so blessed to still have Mother and Aunt Freda in my life.)

like pink checks,

like this, then that,

like a dragonfly wing

in the sun reflecting

the color of opals,

like all the hours

we leave behind,

so ordinary,

but not unloved.

My wish for all of us is that today be filled with those ordinary, yet special, moments that bring so much pleasure into our lives...