Ooh-boy...ever have one of those mornings where your body not so gently reminds you that you are (ahem) not quite as young as you think you are?  Welcome to my world!  It was so lovely after work yesterday that I was inspired to quickly change clothes and hang out in my garden for a couple of hours, weeding, weeding, and more weeding.  Darn crabgrass!  Observations to self:  no matter how pretty Russian sage looks, admire it in someone else's garden.  Don't invite it home...it becomes a guest that totally outstays its welcome. 

So I have a little puzzle for you to solve this morning.  This poem by William Blake plus song lyrics by Billy Dean equals who I got to hang out with recently...any guesses?

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.

I can remember when you fit in the palm of my hand
Felt so good in it, no bigger than a minute
How it amazes me, you're changing with every blink
Faster than a flower blooms they grow up all too soon

So let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little

I've never felt so much in one little tender touch
I live for those kisses, prayers and your wishes
Now that you're teaching me things only a child can see
Every night while we're on our knees all I ask is please

Let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little

So innocent, a precious soul, you turn around
It's time to let them go

So let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little
 

 Oh just let them be little

May your day be filled with opportunities to share your love. 

Good morning!  Due to a wonderful evening out (still singing Dancing Queen in my head) today's post will be short.  I blush to admit that staying up past eleven on a work night doesn't work as well as it used to!  Yesterday's gorgeous weather inspired me to take a quick walk around the neighborhood adjacent to my office, and the trees were showing off:

Here's a great poem by Billy Collins to start our days off on a perfect note (well, a poem and a rather large cup of coffee for me!)

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

Mamma Mia!

I'm so excited!  A friend has asked me to join her tonight at the Broadway production of Mamma Mia at our local arts center.  I've seen the movie but haven't had the opportunity to see the stage production, and I can't wait!  I love the ABBA songs and you already know how much I love the Greek isles.  In honor of tonight's excitement, here are a few reasons why I love Greece so much, with lines from Oscar Wilde's poem Greece:

 
We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fair
For the blue lands that to the eastward lie.

The sea was sapphire coloured

 

 

And all the flower-strewn hills of Arcady

every olive grove and creek

 

 

And a red sun upon the seas to ride

and the sky Burned like a heated opal through the air

I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!

The sea was sapphire coloured, and the sky
Burned like a heated opal through the air;
We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fair
For the blue lands that to the eastward lie.
From the steep prow I marked with quickening eye
Zakynthos, every olive grove and creek,
Ithaca's cliff, Lycaon's snowy peak,
And all the flower-strewn hills of Arcady.
The flapping of the sail against the mast,
The ripple of the water on the side,
The ripple of girls' laughter at the stern,
The only sounds: -when 'gan the West to burn,
And a red sun upon the seas to ride,
I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!


Have a good day, and Opa!

...it seemed a thrill of pleasure

Happy Monday!  Even thought it is still a little chilly outside, my heart was warmed this weekend when three friends commented that they had missed my posts.  I honestly thought no one had probably noticed that I haven't posted in a while.  Sometimes it is hard to write and wonder if anyone reads my latest reflections or misses my poems when I take a break, so it was truly uplifting to hear that people really do enjoy what I have to say.  With all the blogs in the world, written on every conceivable subject, sometimes it is easy to think that you have nothing special to add to the universe that hasn't already been said.

The weekend flew by, as they usually do, in a mix of housework, laundry, shopping and craft work.  I have never defined myself as a "crafty" person (jack of all trades, master of none) but this last year has been a whirlwind of events that have required more crafting than I have ever done before, and has played a large role in why my posts have been few and far between lately.  I had intended to chronicle each event as it happened, but honestly, it just seemed to be stacked one thing upon another, so that I've never had a chance to catch my breath.

In the last year alone I helped organize a baby shower for my son and daughter-in-law, a bridal shower for my daughter, my daughter's bachelorette party, my daughter's wedding, followed shortly thereafter by Christmas crafting, and most recently  my mother's 90th birthday party.  All this on top of three long trips back to South Dakota for funerals, a trip to Indiana for a 100th anniversary church celebration and a (very!) long drive to New Orleans for a nephew's wedding, as well as some much needed home renovation projects.  And did I mention I work full time???  Whew...I get tired all over again just thinking about the past year, which I guess is my way of explaining why posts have been less frequent. 

My latest project had me floored.  Literally. In the same breath that I used to complain about the hideous blue shag carpet in my bedroom and hallway when we moved in to our home eleven years ago, I also commented that the kitchen/dining room floor Had.To.Go.  The parquet design was outdated, and extremely scratched and I couldn't wait to see it go. No, it really wasn't quite this shiny but I struggled to get a decent picture without the "glow".

Well, we all know how projects go...with four children to put through college remodeling often takes a back seat to more pressing priorities.  But once we put the new floor in the living room (replacing the awful green carpet) the contrast between the two floors was really vexing.  We finally were able to make my dream a reality, which meant, of course, that we once again had boxes of flooring in our living room...

as well as appliances spread all over...

but oh my, it was so worth all the inconvenience in the end!

I am a happy woman. I was a happy woman even with dreadful blue shag carpets and parquet linoleum, but the changes do make me smile when I walk in the door after work.  I feel like we have really put our "stamp" on our home and what's not to love about that?

Every time I stepped outside this weekend I was charmed by all the bird songs outside my door.  It gave me a small thrill of pleasure that Wordsworth mentions in his poem.  My wish for you today is that you also find a moment of pleasure and sweet mood, but hopefully they won't bring sad thoughts to mind like they did for the poet!

Lines Written in Early Spring

By William Wordsworth

I heard a thousand blended notes,

While in a grove I sate reclined,

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And ’tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,

Their thoughts I cannot measure:—

But the least motion which they made

It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,

To catch the breezy air;

And I must think, do all I can,

That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,

If such be Nature’s holy plan,

Have I not reason to lament

What man has made of man?

upside down...

It's nearing the end of March, and while I really do understand that even if the calendar says it is spring, living in Wisconsin means the possibility of snow hasn't left yet.  But it's a little discouraging to see things "upside down" this morning...

In my solarium I have blooming hibiscus that over-wintered far better than I expected:

and tulips at the end of their blooms:

 

and sprouting seeds...all hopeful signs of spring!!

Yet a peek outside my windows tells a far different story...

front yard...

and back yard...

Even a visiting baby hawk looks a little confused!

Hopefully we will soon be turning our faces toward the summer isle as poet Claude McKay envisions in his poem After the Winter.  I am sure at this point in the change of seasons we are all more than ready for wide mouthed orchids and ferns that never fade!

After the Winter 

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves

     And against the morning’s white

The shivering birds beneath the eaves

     Have sheltered for the night,

We’ll turn our faces southward, love,

     Toward the summer isle

Where bamboos spire the shafted grove

     And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill

     Where towers the cotton tree,

And leaps the laughing crystal rill,

     And works the droning bee.

And we will build a cottage there

     Beside an open glade,

With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,

     And ferns that never fade.

Good morning and Happy Friday!  I hope the weather has been mild where you live--we have had some days in the fifties this week, and oh my oh my has that ever wonderful!  I'm heading off to the windy city this weekend for my annual opera adventure so I'm looking forward to sharing some Chicago stories with you next week, but in the meantime I thought I'd give you a peek of my dapper husband, all dressed up for a music competition last week.  Isn't he cute?  And because he always wears a hat, I thought this cute poem by Aaron Belz was a fitting accompaniment. 

The Love-Hat Relationship

I have been thinking about the love-hat relationship.
It is the relationship based on love of one another's hats.
The problem with the love-hat relationship is that it is
     superficial.
You don't necessarily even know the other person.
Also it is too dependent on whether the other person
is even wearing the favored hat. We all enjoy hats,
but they're not something to build an entire relationship
     on.
My advice to young people is to like hats but not love
     them.
Try having like-hat relationships with one another.
See if you can find something interesting about
the personality of the person whose hat you like.

 I definitely found something interesting about the personality of the person whose hat I like!

Now that spring is hesitantly peeping around the corner here in Wisconsin and even occasionally agreeing to stop by and chat for a few minutes, I thought it would be fun to watch her show off as she begins to wave her magic spring wand over the lovely golf course I pass each day on my way to work.  Stay tuned for a transformation over the next few weeks.  But I should probably also post a disclaimer...I live in a state where we can have green grass growing and daffodils starting to bud one day, and the next have a raging blizzard!  We'll see how this spring unfolds!

I'll take the same shot each night on my way home from work at five...

Have a lovely weekend and I'll be back next week with tales of Tosca and high tea!

...brought to you by the letter "T"

Good morning, and here's hoping you have a Terrific Tuesday! (My perkiness may or may not be in direct correlation to the very short amount of sleep I got last night...I think I'm over compensating). 

And if today is brought to us by the letter "T", Sesame Street must be close by!  Here's Lily's first glimpse of Sesame Street...

"T" can also stand for Terrific Times.  On Sunday we were invited to celebrate my oldest son's best friend's 30th birthday with his family.  It was a wonderful time and so gratifying to see how these two men have cherished their friendship through high school football, college days, graduate school (physical therapy and law) and still make time to enjoy each other as they start their professional careers and families.  He's also Lily's godfather.  How sweet is that?

"T" can also stand for thankful.  Right now I'm thankful we've made it to March, because I don't think I could have done one more day of February.  Evidently it was the coldest February here in the last 80 years.  I am sooooo done with winter (did I mention it is snowing like crazy as I'm typing??)

And finally, "T" can stand for...............TULIPS!  Yes!  TULIPS!  My son's girlfriend planted a big tub of bulbs and I present a little bit of springtime just for you!

And here is a sweet little poem from the book Enchanted Tulips and Other Verses for Children by Maude Keary (1914).

ENCHANTED TULIPS

TULIPS white and tulips red,

Sweeter than a violet bed!

Say, old Mother Bailey, say

Why your tulips look so gay,

Why they smell so sweet, and why

They bloom on when others die?

 

“By the pixies’ magic power

Do my tulips always flower,

By the pixies’ magic spell

Do they give so sweet a smell!

Tulips, tulips, red and white,

Fill the pixies with delight!

“Pixy women, pixy men,

Seek my tulips from the glen;

Midnight come, they may be heard

Singing sweet as any bird,

Singing their wee babes to rest

In the tulips they love best!”