Monday, August 22, 2016

A Sloth Who Likes to Read


"Stop reading," ordered the Mama. "Go outside."

I'd probably been lying on the bed reading for three or four hours that sunny summer weekend afternoon. I was probably 12 years old.

That's what the Mama got for buying me a bed with a bookcase headboard. It was packed full with paperback books that I purchased from the monthly Scholastic book catalog during the school year. Three or four dollars bought me a lot of books back then. I shall always be grateful the Mama and the Daddy let me buy so many, and for leaving me alone to read the books over and over most of the time.

Reading was my favorite thing to do in summer, followed by riding bicycles, watching movies, and eating. Except for the bicycle riding, I seem to have slipped back into my once-upon-a-time summer routine. I'm not getting much done, I admit. And, yes, my clothes are feeling snug. Again.

I really do need to urge me to step outside and do something. There's still time today to water the flowers in the backyard, or pick up all the apples and lemons that have dropped off the trees, or rake the leaves, or put everything back in the shed, or . . . .

Maybe I'll take my book outside with me as incentive. After each thing I finish, I can read a chapter.

Yeah, right.

I'm a grown-up. First things, first. But, that could be reading.

Silly me, thinking I can bribe or shame myself into doing things.


Sunday, August 21, 2016

The Season of Plenty


The other day, the Husband and I drove around Pajaro Valley in Santa Cruz County (next door to our county) just because we felt like it. The fertile Pajaro Valley has fields full of strawberries, cages full of raspberries and blackberries, and still a few orchards full of apples.

We stopped at Gizdich Ranch, which is well-known for its apple juice and homemade apple and berry pies. You can also pick your own apples and various types of berries, if you want.  Our mission. My mission (the Husband was a captive audience) was to purchase hollyhock seeds. Unfortunately none were to be had yet. But, we did come away with four cobs of corn for a dollar and a look at a bunch of fancy buggy-looking Bugatti's that one of the guys said were each worth $2 million+.

The Bugatti guys (5 or 6 of them) caused a traffic jam at the ranch. Not because they couldn't find parking spots, from what I saw, but because the drivers and passengers stood in the path of us, drivers, trying to find parking. I almost didn't want to stop. If the Bugatti people were this arrogantly ignorant about they being in the way, what would they be like in the gift shop and restaurant. Fortunately, the drivers hung around their cars, while their passengers disappeared into the antique store.

I'm glad I sucked in my temper, otherwise I wouldn't have seen the display of Gizdich's biggest and tiniest apples. We'll stop by Gizdich again for hollyhock seeds and maybe one of their pies.


Time to link up with Seasons, a weekly meme hosted by Jeanette at Artworks from Jeshstg. Click here to check other participants and possibly link up as well.


Friday, August 19, 2016

Friday's Hunt V2.8


This week's clues for Teresa's Friday's Hunt at Eden Hills are: 1) Starts with H  2) Week's Favorite  3) Single.

My favorite photo this week shows hands as in the Mama's hand and the drummer's hand.  As for single, the Mama's single focus at that particular moment was feeding her baby a delicious treat.

To check out other Friday's Hunt participants, please click here.



Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Flight


On the afternoon that the Mama died, the Husband, Long-time Friend Kathy, Molly the Cat, and I sat on the patio and ate our lunch. The Mama's apple tree and her butterfly bush gave us shade from the warm Spring sun. The sky was blue. The Mama's roses, daisies, and other flowers were in bloom. The birds serenaded us. The Mama's bedroom window faced the backyard. I like to think that she could see, smell, and hear the day as we did and that she enjoyed listening to our relaxed cadences and tones.

At one point I leaned back in my chair and gazed at the sky. A crow was lazily flying back and forth. It was like a photo, the crow framed by the foliage of the Mama's trees and bushes. As I watched the bird, I felt like I could see the Mama's spirit flying up towards the crow and dancing alongside it.

When I finally looked away, I saw a white butterfly fly out of the Mama's garden by the  rose bushes. That was the first white butterfly I saw that day, which, ever since the Daddy died 34 years ago, represented the Daddy saying to me, "Hello. All is well."


At the Mama's rosary service, I read this short tale that I wrote three years ago. I had posted it on June 5, 2013.

The Girl That Did Fly

Once upon a time, in a far away place, a little girl wished upon a star, "I wish I could fly."

Unlike other fairy tales, Midge's wish did not come true. So, she thought.

One morning, Midge woke up, thinking, "Ah, today is the day I shall fly."


She flung off her blankets and jumped to her feet.

Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!

With each bounce, Midge hung in the air higher and longer. Nearly three-quarters to the ceiling, she turned somersaults and back flips, cartwheels and spins.

She bounced and she bounced until her grandmother opened her door.

"Very good, my dear," said Lola Sue smiling so proudly. "You're getting to be quite good with the triple flips. I do believe you take after your grandma."


Lola Sue jumped onto the bed, and together they bounced.

Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!

Holding hands, they bounced even higher and higher.

"I think it is time," Lola Sue said."Are you ready?"

"Yes! Yes!" exclaimed Midge, although she knew not what it might be.


"Then let us go!"


Midge and her Lola Sue bounced once more, hung a second, then flew around the room. 


"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," said Midge. "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

"Hold on tight," said Lola Sue, as she lead the little girl out the door, through the house, and out a window into the Lola's garden. From there, they soared up through the banana plants and into the big, blue sky. 



Today is the letter F at ABC Wednesday, a wonderful meme with awesome bloggers from around the world. Click here to check out these other bloggers, and maybe to join in yourself.  Thanks to Roger, Di, Melody, and all of the ABCW team for giving us a place to share ourselves.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Baaaaaaaa


Good ricotta?

I think it is made from sheep, because that's the artisanal stuff we bought at the independent, natural goodness supermarket in Santa Cruz last week.

I forget that cow's milk isn't the only source for cheese until I eat cheese that's made from other animals. Maybe if I'd been more careful, I could've found the good ricotta made from cow.

For breakfast I ate a peanut butter-ricotta-honey sandwich. As I chewed, I thought of sheep, their wool, their face, and their hooves. I recalled the Warner Brothers cartoon in which the wolf wore sheep's clothing to get closer to the sheep. The sheepdog always beat the wolf at his game. Of course. The funniest part about the cartoon was the end when both the sheepdog and wolf clocked out of their work shift and said, "See you tomorrow."

Molly the Cat came mewing to see what I had for breakfast. She likes cheese, too. I gave her a pinch of the ricotta from my sandwich.  Sniff, sniff. She walked away.

Not too soon after Molly left, I picked the cheese out of my sandwich. There's only so much sheep whey my taste buds and stomach can handle.

Don't even get me talking about lamb. Shudder.

P.S. That's an old photo of Missy Molly by Golly. I like to think that's what she thought of the ricotta this morning.