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Showing posts from August, 2016

The "H" I Say

The other day I decided to keep a daily Have-Done list. For awhile, that is. Until I no longer need to let myself know that I have accomplished something each day.

Every day, I add things to my To-Do list. As you can see in the photo, the items don't always get done right away. Sometimes, not for weeks after I put them on the list.

The Have-Done things, so far, were not on my To-Do list. That's okay. They were usually stuff:

•  I would've distracted myself to do so I wouldn't do anything on the To-Do list. For instance, dig up a narrow piece of the front lawn to create a new home for a bunch of jade plants that no longer fit in their pots.

•  I would've discovered I needed to do before I could do a To-do item, such as clean the freezer in order to start it up again.

•  I needed to do that moment because they needed to get done then and there. We needed to pay that water bill, you know.

•  I would've eventually put on my To-do list. That would've probably b…

Friday's Hunt v.2.9

The cues for Friday's Hunt this week are: 1. Starts with I   2. Week's favorite   3. Pink

So, here's my week's favorite picture: The pink-faced Husband quickly inserting himself into the photo I was taking of the apples and lemons that I harvested from our trees.  I love that silly guy.


Friday's Hunt is a weekly meme hosted by Teresa at Eden Hills. To check out the other participants, please click here.


Happy Birthday to the Mama!

The ever loving, curious, generous, and unique Mama would've been 95 years old today. Shoot up the  fireworks! Bang on the walls! Pick some tomatoes! Dance up a storm! Sing, sing, sing!


I searched through my archives for a story to share about the Mama. This one is my favorite, which was published on June 18, 2010. Originally, it was entitled Talking about Sex with the Mama. The new title says it better.

Some Kind of Wonderful

Yesterday the mama asked me to explain something she was reading in an AARP flyer. It was a short article about what a woman can do about vaginal dryness so that intercourse isn't so painful.
Uh.

The mama is a voracious reader. She likes to learn. Both things I didn't know until the husband and I became her roommates several years ago. English is not her primary language, and I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, her English reading comprehension is about a 4, more or less. She doesn't let complicated or unfamiliar words get her down. If she&#…

Gutsy Guys at Work

I had a few G thoughts to write about for ABC Wednesday this week. Alas, the day comes, and those ideas are lifeless. So, for today, I give you a photo of construction guys. They're working merely feet from the highway. Their job is one that requires a lot of guts.

To check out this week's ABCW participants, please click here.

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 t…

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 parkin…

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.



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…

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 awa…

It's Elementary, My Dear.

"Make an effort."

This morning I read that line in Emma: A Modern Retelling by Alexander McCall Smith). I felt like the character, and the author, was talking to me.

Please make an effort, Susie. 

The Mama said it another way about herself when she felt tired, which was every day for her last several years. Plain and simple, she used to say, "I push myself."

After we buried the Mama this past April, the Only and Older Brother said to me, "Keep on living."

I scoffed at what the Only and Older Brother said. Of course, I'd keep on living. Why would I not? Lately, though, honesty keeps trying to surface. Drat that honesty. For that matter, dang to introspection, rumination, and heart-searching that show up in my dreams.

Sigh.

So, this is my effort today for the letter E for this week's ABC Wednesday: a story that I shared three years ago (April 5, 2013) about an amazing thing that reminded me of the wonderful effortlessness of life.

Flying with the Eag…

Happy Birthday to Our Molly!

Molly the Cat is six years old today. According to her adoption paperwork, that is.

Molly doesn't like cake. But, we do. So, the Husband drove to the bakery to buy a slice each of chocolate cake and lemon cake for him and me to share. What's a birthday without cake, right?

Molly got an extra pouch of chicken breast and beef mix. She licked her plate clean after eating both pouches.

She's a big girl now, our sweet Molly.


I'm hooking up with Seasons, a meme hosted by blogger and artist Jesh. Click here to check other Seasons participants.

Friday's Hunt 2.6

The cues for this week's Friday's Hunt, hosted by Teresa of Eden Hills, are: 1) Starts with F  2) Week's Favorite  3) Shiny

It's been a busy week—high school class reunion stuff (45 years! Tonight is our dinner-dance.)—so I'm doing a stretch with my entry by using a photo I've posted last year. This morning I was looking at the print of it on our kitchen wall and thinking this is one of my favorite photos. Light bulb! I have my week's favorite photo.

Some of you are familiar with the Husband, and maybe even this photo. There you go: Familiar.

Shiny—the sunlight reflecting on the creek.

To check out other entries for Friday's Hunt, click here.  Gotta run. See ya.




The Deranged Husband

Snort. Hahahahaha. I doubt that I'll ever not laugh when I look at this photo.

Two years ago, the Husband and I were doing a self-guided greenhouse tour. I'd barely parked the car and turned off the engine when the Husband jumped out, saying, "Take a photo of me."

"Be sure to get the sign," he said. 

Hahahahahahaha.

The Husband let me enter the photo in the humor photo category at our county fair that year.  My caption was: "Deranged—Upon arriving at yet another tour, the husband became deranged." 

Yup. I won a blue ribbon for it. My first ever. 

I love the Husband!


Time to hook up with  ABC Wednesday. Today is all about the letter D. Click hereto join in and/or to read what other bloggers from around the world are posting today.