Mother's Day Weekend #2

How lucky I am! Last weekend was the official Mother's Day, which was wonderful for me ... AND this weekend, I'm having an extended celebration because my daughters are now here!

I'm grateful Amy made it back from San Antonio safely, and was able to spend some time with us since she's returned.

Dinner on Friday night with Amy, Shannon and Josh, and John was delightful -- the food and the company were the best!

Saturday was sunny and warm, perfect for our first visit of the season to the West Allis Farmer's Market. We now have dahlias in the one garden spot we're certain we won't be re-landscaping -- and we got them into the ground before the temperature dropped 30 degrees and the sun went into hiding. Brrrr....

Another delightful experience: quite a long chat with our dear friends and neighbors. Somehow, winter tends to be the season when we just wave to each other as we rush into the warm house, no matter how much we'd like to linger and visit. This is one of my favorite reasons for warmer weather!

Kitties are snoozing, pancakes are browning, and we get another few hours with Shannon and Josh before they head back home.

Life is good.

Light and Shadows, and the ability to see

I almost walked right through this scene, hurrying to my car at the end of the day, without doing more than noticing -- but not really pausing to admire -- the artistic quality that had naturally occurred here.

The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and I'd been wishing for several days that I'd brought my camera to photograph the yellow and "black" tulips planted on the UWM campus, no doubt to echo the black and gold campus colors.

I didn't expect a masterpiece in grays.

I'm so grateful I had the camera with me, that I took the moments to snap these photos, and the delight I'm feeling at how they turned out.

Mostly, I'm grateful for whatever it is inside me that notices things like this, and urges me to pause, to truly take it in, and to experience it with delight, wonder and awe.

Reclaiming Morning

I woke up before 5 this morning. I laid in bed, wide awake, until 5:05, debating with myself.

I could lay there and hope to fall asleep again for about an hour, but why? There was Mack, comfortably resting on my legs ... I hated to disturb him ... he'd been SO good all night -- hadn't awakened me once! -- but he'd get over it if I got out of bed.

Getting up early would also mean rustling around and potentially disturbing John's last hour of sleep ... but it didn't sound as if he was sleeping right now, anyway.

My body wanted to move, my mind was completely rested ... and I've been wanting to MOVE more, use my body, feel better. WHY was I arguing with myself!?!?

I got up. I gathered my walking shoes, and enough clothes to keep me warm in the 50-something temperature of early morning.

I got dressed and gathered my digital camera, key to the house, reading glasses (so I could see what I was taking pictures of) and cell phone, just in case.

Then I headed out the door.

Wow. I'm so glad I did.

By the time I hit the pavement, it was light out. There was just the right amount of chill in the air to make fast-walking feel really good.

There were rain puddles, with the sky and trees reflected in them.

There were neighbors walking their dogs, people leaving their homes for work already, and the fresh clean smell of the newly-washed day.

A song wove through my thoughts, "Morning has broken, like the first morning ... Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird ...."


I'm grateful for a great start to a day filled with energy and joy.






... for knowing my neighborhood well enough and long enough to have very clear memories of the person who planted the two maple trees in this front yard -- these are Ian's trees, and he's come a long way from the precocious pre-teen he was when he nursed the seedlings from "weeds" to "trees" ...










... and I'm grateful that I acted on the urge to take an evening walk, as well ... there's something reassuring and homey about living in a neighborhood where it feels safe to walk alone after dark. I'm grateful for that luxury, too.



This is what grace and abundance are all about.

Being "heard"

I have been writing a lot lately. Most of it is really just reporting, nothing creative, except that an occasional turn of phrase makes me smile or laugh or get a little choked up -- because words affect me that way, and after all, they're words designed to convey MY thoughts and emotions, so if *I* don't "get it," who on earth *will*?

So I've enjoyed the experience of expressing myself through words, but I seldom have the opportunity to get direct feedback that tells me I've been heard. The electronic medium, for all it's "out in the world" and "public" characteristics, is a lonely place of you don't hear from anyone that they're actually reading what you've written.

And, to be honest, one of the joys of writing is knowing someone else has "heard" me. (Not necessarily AGREED, but at least "heard.")

Tonight, I am grateful to have been "heard" by by dear husband, John, who took a lot of time to read all the postings I've made at this blog, as well as all my Thinking Out Loud posts.

I used to worry, years ago, that someone would read my journals. Now I know that even the people I live with are simply too involved in their own lives and their own dramas to care enough to seek out and actually take the time to read anything I've written, unless I actually ask them to.

Thus far, John has been a willing reader when I've asked him. Amy has been, too, especially the posts about her friends. Shannon's read most of what I've written about our sick kitty (who is no longer SICK, thank goodness! yea!) -- but the poor girl is so busy with her studies and teaching and writing research papers and presentations, that reading her mother's blogs is hardly a recreational activity. I completely understand.

So it makes me that much more grateful for the time spent with John tonight, as he read my thoughts from weeks ago and yesterday, and for the feeling he "gets it," too.

Mother's Day Gratitude

For my children, without whom Mother's Day would have an entirely different meaning for me ---

Click to play | Make your own Smilebox

For my husband, without whom I would not know the joys or opportunities for growth that motherhood has presented to me in life --

Click to play | Make your own Smilebox

My sweet husband surprised me with a bountiful buffet brunch on Mother's Day, two dozen roses at just the right stage of bloom, and an evening at the Milwaukee Theater's production of the musical Chicago. What a wonderful man; what a beautiful day!

(By the way -- I'm also grateful for aluminum foil to cover the table where my roses are displayed, so the kitties don't tip it over or munch the leaves!)

To top it all off, one of the kitties I'm "mom" to also had a milestone - Mack (who has been very sick with hepatic lipidosis) was spotted twice eating the REGULAR cat food with his brothers. Hallelujah! No more worrying that he isn't eating anything if we don't lock him in the bedroom with his special foods! Life is truly returning to a joyous "normal."

For like-minded community and the pink glow of sunset

Tonight the world was washed with a pink glow, not only across the sky, but also across grass and pavement, houses and trees. It was really as if we were seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. Beautiful.

I'm grateful for rosiness, and the contrasting cerulean blue of the sky at sunset ...

for the leisure time to reflect upon the things I'm most grateful for, on this day ...

for fresh leeks and vidalia onions, celaric and hearty potatoes, a sweet potato and some corn for color -- and the scent of made-from-scratch soup that tastes as good as it smells ... I make good soup ...

for my husband's presence in my life, companion and friend and lover, whose being is distinct from -- yet deliciously entwined with mine ...

and for a like-minded community with whom to share the journey of exploration as we travel the path of the Eight Gates of Wisdom.

Grateful.