That's a photo of my First Communion veil. It's quite pristine for about 55 years. The Mama had stored it in its original plastic case. So, what is it doing outdoors? I'm tearing it apart to line planter pots. Yup, that's what I'm doing.

Throughout the morning the Northern Yellow Bats and the Southern Yellow Bats rang the bells in the campanile in the center of the Honalee Bay Aquarium & Gardens. Insects and sea creatures, birds and reptiles, and two-legged and four legged animals in their Sunday best flew, padded, trotted, and swam to the grounds to behold the moment they had been waiting for the last three months. By mid-afternoon, the moment began. The Yodeling Yellowjackets flew to their marks on the cut-out heart beside the officiant. As they began singing Yodel Love Call , the happy guests quieted and turned their attention to the eastern end of the meadow.  Slowly coming into view was Yagel the Yak, proud as all can be. Carefully and steadily, he pulled the cart on which stood the handsome and beautiful wedding couple of the moment. Some guests cheered and clapped their paws, while others hooted and stomped their feet. Winnie  and Thomas blushed. Tears streamed down their faces as they waved and

Numero Uno: My knees feel stronger, especially the right one. I'm walking a bit longer, not necessarily further, especially if the surface has some give to it. My legs likes walking in sand. A friend suggested that I create a small sandbox and march in it. I just might. The geranium room in the backyard would be the perfect place for it. Numero Due: I want to learn a new language. Maybe The Husband will get in on the idea. It would be fun talking to each other in Italian or Latin (those are my preferences right now). Not to say good mental exercise for our brain. What do you think The Husband ? Numero Tre: I shall wash the kitchen floor this afternoon.  It's on today's agenda, but that doesn't necessarily mean I will do it. By also proclaiming it here, methinks I'm reinforcing the objective. Ha-ha. There's also the fact that I'm waiting for The Husband to finish washing dishes and move the chairs to the hallway. The latter is something I put on his

"Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder." ~ Rumi

I'm feeling mighty groovy right now. Just like the song sang by Simon & Garfunkel, once upon a time. The Husband and I had a lot of fun this weekend. Ever since Eliza, our dependable 25-year old of a metal steed, had work done on her, she has been taking us places. So much so that I know the moon is in afternoon sky right now, something I haven't noticed in a very long while. On Saturday morning, we joined a group of like-minded people  downtown to express our concerns about the actions of our federal government. There was about two dozen of us, I think. Pretty good for our town. The current President's policy to separate children from their parents at the border was an incomprehensible and  immoral act.  To fix his action, he signed an Executive Order to stop his administration from following his policy for any family who is detained at the border. But, what about all the children who are already separated? Legally, children in immigration detention centers ca

I did everything I hoped to do in yesterday's work-in-the-yard day : Hurrah! I have discovered that I can step over the weeds in the sidewalk cracks, while saying, "Not on my agenda." Ha! I can walk by a rose bush and not deadhead it because it was "Not on my agenda." Ha! The weeds alongside the side fence in the back yard were not on my agenda either, but I did put them on the Husband's. It got him outdoors on a hot, but pleasant in the shade, day. He got a break from reading maddening and heartbreaking current events. That's a good thing. All in all, the Husband didn't mind the weeding and, before we went in for lunch, he agreed to eventually clear out all the weeds along the fence, including down the driveway. Thank you much! While the Husband weeded I repotted our Christmas tree who we've named Mister Alton. The poor guy. He was tightly bound in his quart-size pot. It was very slow-going loosening the dirt from his roots. When he

  After I finish distracting myself on the computer, I'm heading back outside. Today, I've decided is a work-in-the yard day. First on the agenda is to pick up the bougainvillea branches that I pruned this morning and tossed willy-nilly on the walkway, effectively blocking passage to the front door. Next, I shall deadhead a couple of small daisy bushes. Then, I'll go find all the empty pots hidden under bushes and cart them to the backyard. That done (I figure an hour), I'll re-pot the tiny evergreen Christmas tree into a larger pot. We bought it last month. Now is the time to purchase potted Christmas trees for cheap. They may be on the dry end, but with patience and sweet coaxing, they may be smiling happily by the yuletide. So I think. I also want to prep our 1960s wheelbarrow (which belonged to the Daddy) into a planter for succulents. That will mean playing with the drill, bzzzz, bzzzz, searching for small to medium size rocks in the yard, and seeing what s