FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA

[I'm repeating a post from 2021 because I want us to remember why we celebrate July 4th in our United States of America. We may have a good time, our hearts may swell with pride as our children and grandchildren march in parades, and the best dang barbecue will feed a multitude. And then there's the real reason for it all. Be blessed!]

In five days, the United States celebrates Independence Day. On that day in 1776, men from 12 of the colonies signed a Declaration of Independence from the mother country, England. The official vote in the Continental Congress occurred two days earlier, July 2nd. After that vote, a committee headed by Thomas Jefferson wrote the official Declaration.

John Adams, one of the delegates, had written a letter to his wife, Abigail:

The second day of July 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more. [from Adams Family Papers, Massachusetts Historical Society]

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The United States celebrates in solemn events and riotous ones, from the serious contemplation of what freedom means to the joy of being able to express our gratitude openly.

However you celebrate--if you do--remember the men who made that possible 247 years ago. And be safe.

 THE SUMMER BLAHS . . . UPDATED FOR 2023

The summer WHAT did you say?

I know, I know . . . it's Summertime! The livin' is easy! (Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong reminded me just the other day.)

Today is the first full day of Summer. The sun's out most of the time, rain isn't on the menu so often now, humidity bops around between comfy and unbreathable. So why, you wonder, am I talking about Summer Blahs?

Here's why:

• school's out--I don't have the structure I had for nine months of the year.
• there aren't any kids my age in the neighborhood to play with
• a lot of regular activities are re-styled for the summer, so I don't have a dependable list to choose from

I'm not really stuck in childhood--but the summer season reminds me that there's a break in the year that signals a different way of living.

And that's not all--even with air conditioning helping my asthmatic breathing, I feel my energy being sucked out of my body every time I step outside. I don't have to step outside at all, if I don't want to. I can empty the mailbox while standing at the open front door. Amazon leaves my book orders near the door so I'm out less than ten seconds. But sometimes--

And gardening--? Not my thing at all! My daughter loves garden work (so do her sibs). Even filling bird feeders apparently comes under the heading of "Gardening--What to Do When," so all I'm required to do is drive to the feed-and-seed store, have the nice people there load up my SUV with mixed seed and black-oil sunflower seed bags, pay them, and drive home. As for the gardening itself--I'm perfecting my role as Encourager and Appreciator. 

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To battle the Summer Blahs, I have a short list of activities (which I can do alone or with help, and which are done indoors--no special equipment required) that keep me from going round the bend:

• painting--trying new techniques as demonstrated on YouTube tutorials, courtesy of full-time artists sharing their expertise
• sewing--finishing a quilt started several weeks (or was it years?) ago
• writing--keeping my daily journal; working on a novella once a week during a dedicated time
• keeping records--every medical person I see wants me to keep track of something; if I thought I was going to live a lot longer, I'd buy a gross of spiral notebooks and the same amount of pens to keep going; or maybe I'd just invest in a paper company, if it paid good returns on my investment
• sorting stuff--a perennial activity--never a favorite--but sometimes it helps me get through summer days when everything else requires too much effort--going through a couple shelves of books to find some to donate can consume a few hours (have to look through the books again, you understand)

I didn't list reading, and I'm sure you noticed that omission. I'm slowly getting back to reading--not sure yet why the interest waned--that's not like me, at all. I did request a book on the Evergreen service, read it and returned it; so, you see, I did read in this month of June. This year I'm browsing books by artists--not so many words to read, but lots of yummy pictures.

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If you have any good ideas for beating Summer Blahs, I'll be glad to entertain them--but remember, I don't like to travel, and crowds aren't my thing (right up there with gardening--see above). In the meantime, I'll have a cup of coffee, read a little about how watercolorists in the UK got famous with their loose style of painting, and contemplate the feeding frenzies of birds at my now-half-full feeders (replenished only a day or two ago).

Enjoy your summer, if it's your thing!

Blessings for all,

Thursday's Child

POSTCARDS FROM . . .

The Lake.

If you live in upstate Indiana, or lower Michigan, or any other place with a lot of lakes in the area, you know what I mean. "We're going to the lake."

"The lake" isn't a specific place. At least, not with capital letters, like Little Lake, or Pretty Lake, or Blue Heron Lake. It's just The Lake. A generic lake, in speech, though it does have a name and a geographic location and water and cabins/cottages/year-round housing, boats, fishing, a marina . . . you know, the lake.

My daughter and I are in Day Five of our joint vacation. I'm taking time off from living in a small city. She's taking time off from her job.

Last Saturday we loaded my SUV with all our essentials. You know what I'm saying--the everyday stuff we're pretty sure, if not certain, that we can't survive without for the next week. Mine included books; journals; notebooks/tablets/Post-It Notes; pens, pencils. And paints. Paints come with their own entourage: easel, watercolor paper, paints in tubes/pencils/sticks, brushes; sketchbook (though I couldn't quite resist buying a new one, very small, when I went shopping at a dollar store for some things we needed).

We also brought clothes, in case you were wondering.

As well, we had a box or two or three of cooking stuff: baking dishes, condiments, potatoes and carrots to roast, a chicken to roast, and probably a bunch of other things. (We didn't know how well-equipped the cottage would be. We decided within five minutes that we could move in with just the stuff we brought and live happily for, oh, say, six months or so. Maybe years.)

Our accommodations include WiFi, so we both have what we need to stay connected to the outside world. (I like to connect with old TV shows, like White Collar and Father Brown.)

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The weather? Glad you asked. Perfect! We had a couple of days with nice sunshine. Then the temp dropped and we're having a couple days of rain. Ideal for staying inside and getting caught up on painting and writing and binge-watching old shows and cooking and eating. We had a chance to get out and find the local places to shop--we're only ten minutes or so from a university town with all types of businesses. I spent a happy half-hour in an office supply store--best of all, it was run by a lovely labradoodle, big, black, shaggy, laid-back, and as loving as any dog could be. His name is Rocky. He greets customers at the door, goes out to make sure they come in, then makes himself available for some doggy-time. (I got my dog fix that morning.)

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This lake has a large number of year-round homes on or near the water. There's plenty of traffic through the area. Our cottage is up on a hill, surrounded by extra land, dozens (really!) of trees, and a view down over the lower cottages to the lake. We've considered trying squatters' rights to the cottage. 

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Next week, Thursday's Child will be back home, watching the grass grow, keeping the a/c running, paying bills, doing laundry. You know the drill.

But for now, we send you greetings from The Lake. Hope you're enjoying where you are.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 IT'S A SORTA-KINDA DAY

From time to time I reflect on how Life is going. Is Life moving along at a nice rate, not too fast, not too slow? 

Or is Life taking one detour after another (rather like the ones road construction projects generate in my town)?

Can I compare this day to another day like this, say, a year ago? Or is this year something like last year?

One thing is certain: Life keeps going. Period. Whatever we do/say/want/demand . . . makes no difference. 

So! What I've discovered--and have decided is the best way for me to move forward--is to adjust. Not adjust the day or event or other people--adjust my own attitude toward what is going on in Life.

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Although I'm not looking for scapegoats here, I believe we need to accept that the COVID-19 pandemic made huge changes in our lives.

Sure, you say, we all know about working from home--home schooling--virtual everything:  learning/meetings/celebrations. I had a party for my 80th birthday via Zoom. Didn't have a cast of thousands, but I had lots of folks "drop by" to visit a little and wish me a happy day.

Shopping? Even folks who don't need to take special precautions out in public use the Internet for purchasing, well, practically anything! Order groceries? They'll be delivered, or you can pick them up in the specially marked-out lanes for pick-up. Pharmacy items ready? Buzz the drive-through lane.

Medical stuff? Yes, some visits with physicians can be done by phone or virtually.

Need to learn about something? One of the largest repositories of information resides on YouTube. You can search for the answer to practically any question, from cookery to calculus to cutting down a tree. You can watch demonstrations and tutorials on many forms of art making. All free, unless you want to pay to see your videos without ads. Automotive? Yup, that's covered, too. Or making a quilt. Or repairing/mending your clothes. Or building a--well, you name it. Somebody's got a video showing how to build one of those.

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Hate to admit it, but I sometimes wish we had our "old life" back--before we had a major change in our habits and activities to protect folks from sharing a virus that could be more dangerous than we knew at first.

But, other times, I recognize and accept that this is "life as it now is," with changes that can be either turned to our advantage and work for good, or rejected and bring us misery.

The title of today's post, "It's a Sorta-Kinda Day," reflects my own attitude. I think I'm on a continuum between "old life" and "this life now." I still do some of my old things, and I try to embrace the new. Success varies.

It doesn't mean I'm just sort-kinda living. Definitely not that. Rather, I can't pin down Life as it now is and say "It's like this." Or, "It's not like that." 

If you ask me if I'm happy with Life as it is now, I'd answer, "Sorta-kinda." Yes, I know it's right next door to fence-sitting. But hey--if I'm comfortable there, why should I leave? On the other hand, when I'm ready to get down off the fence, I can do that. And you'll probably be the first to know.

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Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 SEASONING

[We're close to the end of one season and the opening up of another one. I recall writing this post several years ago, and since my late mother-in-law has been on my mind recently, I wanted to reread this one that begins with a memory of her.]

Many years ago my mother-in-law, Vira, was invited to a kitchen shower for the daughter of a friend. Vira was a creative woman--she went to the grocery store and bought a variety of spices for the bride-to-be. Then she asked me to write a little poem to go with the gift.

I was flattered to be asked, but--! I was no poet. My ability to write in rhyme was along the lines of "The cat and the rat sat on the mat." I had to decline the invitation to write a poem.

Then Vira said she had come up with a couple of lines--what did I think of this?
     "Of all the seasons of the year,
     you'll find the most important here."

I thought it was just right, and I told her so.

That little rhyme has stayed with me lo, these many years, and not just because seasoning is important to good cooking. Seasoning, I've come to believe, is what makes life itself worth living.

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If we do a little virtual time travel, we can see how the years and events have seasoned us.

Childhood--if we were fortunate, we had good homes, enough to eat, clothes to keep us warm in winter, and plenty of love. We learned lessons at home, at school, and in the neighborhoods we lived in. Who we would become had its start in these early years.

If we weren't so blessed, what we did experience helped make up our adult self.


Adolescence--teen years are often fraught times. Adults say it's all about hormones. The teens themselves say life is unfair, or nobody understands, or even, why bother? But with guidance and love (always love), teens begin to metamorphose into the adult self. Without the love and caring, though, the process may take longer.

The sufferings of adolescence determine how we see ourselves and others, how we solve problems (or not), how we get through difficult or traumatic times. Lots of seasoning going on in this period.

Early adulthood--many of my generation married shortly after high school, or four years later, after finishing college. If they started their families right away, they soon learned a lot of life lessons--priorities being a biggie. 

As the children grew up and left home, parents found themselves again--all grown up, with a life still ahead of them. A career, perhaps; community involvement; or eventually caregiving to older adults.

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What makes me think about the seasoning that life provides is my refusal to say that I'm aging. (The A word is definitely on my list of no-nos.)  And let me say right here--I'm not pretending that I'm not getting older--moment by moment, actually--no, not pretending that. And I definitely don't want to remain young forever. (This is reinforced every time I hear a bunch of little kids running, hollering, and having a grand old time. My energy levels don't match up! And as we seasoned folk are fond of saying, "There's a reason God gave children to young parents.")

But I like knowing that all the experiences I've had, from childhood on up to yesterday's shopping trip, have in some way altered me--have given me a different perspective--have explained something I never understood before. In short, my experiences have seasoned me.

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When I cook, I seldom use salt, but I do use pepper. If I'm making a recipe that calls for unusual spices--curry powder, cardamom, white pepper, cumin, savory--I welcome a chance to try something new, or that give a little zing to a favorite dish. Fresh herbs often give a lift to a plain lettuce salad. Seasoning keeps meals from drifting into the area of hum-drum.

As most cooks will tells you, a little goes a long way. Season with caution, until you decide you like it.

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We can't always distribute our life experiences cautiously. We take what we get, when we get it.

But we do have the choice of how we react--do we rebel? Reject? Can we "find the good," as Heather Lende says? Can we even embrace the experience, and the life lesson, and come out with more than we expected?

Many choices, with seasoning. Savor yours.