It matters

My blog update gave me the gentle reminder “time to post” last week.  I debated on what to “talk about”.    I journal less now.   Time has gotten away from me even before Covid 19.  Since Covid 19,  time has really slipped through my hands.  I felt rushed before College Daughter left for Seattle and I continued feeling rushed up until last Wednesday morning.  I’ve been a part of a book club/open conversation group for over a year now.  However, since we can not meet in person, Zoom meetings have  become the norm for Wednesdays at 10:00 sharp.   By Wednesday evening I was journaling – and I haven’t stopped.  I spoke with a friend who lives in Florida and we decided to have our own Zoom meet up.  There’s a point to this just hang in there…..

While  having my morning  coffee I began to read the last few pages of my journal.  I was startled with how I sounded from the words that were on each page.  I found words expressing anger to sadness and one word that has never made it on my pages before – feeling empty.   Why empty?  Because our world has gone from cracked to split.  From split to broken.   How did we get here?  How is it we are so far advanced in science and technology but social injustice hasn’t moved forward?   Flashing back to my childhood I was educated by my parents enough where I was able to understand racism – but was only given enough to help me to understand and give my maturing mind the tools it needed to not walk through life ignorant.  My mother was an advocate in many areas of my life growing up.  I thought she was outspoken before it was popular.  At least it appeared to be that way to me.  If I said to you I never recognized the color of skin – I would be a liar.  Of course I noticed different shades of skin colors.  We ALL do!   My teachings from the time I can remember – all human life must be valued from conception to natural death.  [one topic of my Wednesday morning group] And this is what I’ve incorporated into my own parenting.  Our family is diverse.  Our oldest daughter is adopted from China.  My nephew is biracial.   I have friends from many parts of the world and I love learning about their cultures and traditions.   What I learned of my father’s family when they arrived in America broke my heart.  I couldn’t imagine.  The slurs.  I never knew even after I started Jr. High why we were referred to as “dago’s”.  What is a “wop”?  No one and I mean no one could pronounce my maiden name. Unless you were a Priest or Nun or another Italian.   However – I still grew up “white” to those who didn’t know my DNA.   Blonde hair, blue eyes and tanned very easily.   But still white.  Never did I experience social injustice.  I can’t tell you what it’s like to worry about not having something because of the color of my skin.   I think back to my college years when one of my besties was also my sister-from-another-mister.  We shared the same first name – however we were known as “black L” and “white L” at one of the popular  dance clubs where we both served drinks.   To this day we still have contact thanks to social media.   Not too long ago we shared a good laugh at how the other employees and even consumers who came to the club would identify us.  We were silly naive twentysomethings having the best time of our lives …….

My last Wednesday group discussed the protest, riots and even politics.  Politics is one thing we don’t want to bring to the table.  But on this particular morning we did.  Many agreeing on the political atmosphere.  One group member referred to it as “political pollution”.   Which opened the door to environment – climate change – endangered species among others.  But one thing we all agreed on and our hearts were hurting as we took turns sharing our thoughts…..to gain an understanding on a different level the history behind social injustice and racism.  Beyond text book material.  Beyond my position in human services.  Beyond the middle school teacher or the librarian.  Beyond what our places of worship can give us.  To not only teach us emotionally but intellectually.  Beyond the arguments and anger.   And most importantly for our fellow humans.  Please do not email me insinuating I’m against the police.  I’m not.  We need our police departments as much as we need a leader in our country to do what is right.  To lead us out of the darkness.  I never liked politics and to tell you the truth I certainly can’t stand either party now.  Please don’t email me insinuating I’m a revolutionist or whatever the non-goverment folk do.   

This is beyond my dislike for democrats and republicans.  This is me working on a better me.  This is me working on understanding how we entered this era.  Please don’t email me saying all lives matter!   Of course they all matter!   We can’t say all lives matter and not understand the depths of racism.     As the book indicates; everyday white people confront racism and social injustice.  To be an anti-racist in todays society.  I look forward to my next Wednesday morning book club meeting and my afternoon chat with my Floridian pal.

Momma Daisy*

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A New Normal

I have not be able to get myself motivated to write a post no matter how hard I tried to convince myself it’s the best thing to do to keep readers [those who are so kind as to follow Momma Daisy and those who not only follow but read and leave me a kind word!] interested in what I may or may not have to say.

As I was trimming flowers and clipping back herbs placing them in each of their designated vessels – I sat them on the kitchen window sill.  Just then it hit me.  My childhood memory of  little nonna’s sunroom – which every window sill was occupied with Cento and San Marzano tomato cans holding beautiful fresh cut peonies and roses.  Glassware filled with cut basil and parsley.    Heirloom flowers always take me back to a time and place.  Snapdragons remind me of my first city home.  My postage stamp yard had just enough space and sunlight for a flowerbed.  Snapdragons and daisy with a handful of fresh herbs.  Standing in my kitchen looking at what I unknowingly arranged on my window sill – made time stand still for a moment.

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what took me to my childhood memory – without the screen would be even better. 😉

Spring is the best season for me to begin planning my flower garden.  My herbs are typically planted in terra cotta planters arranged on my deck for easy access.  A summertime rule – you just can’t make iced tea without fresh mint!  And speaking of summertime, Apple’s distance learning is coming to a close.  June is a skip away.  There will be no lake time for us this June.  August beach vacation has been cancelled.  Maryland and Virginia are beginning to open, however those of us who live in the DC Metro will be waiting a little longer.  And I’m okay with that.   During this time we have been packing and organizing College Daughter’s new beginning.  As her grad school comes to a close, a door opens in Seattle.  A new job.  A new home.  A new life.  A new exciting life I should say.  We couldn’t be more proud or excited for our daughter.   Seattle here we…..um….here she comes!   However this new normal we find our lives adjusting to has changed our agenda somewhat.  Well, more than somewhat, it’s more like it’s changed the plan all together.    Football Superstar would fly with College Daughter to Seattle and begin car shopping.  He already has a plan in place for suitable and affordable condo’s and apartments.    A week or so later, Apple and I would fly out to join them.  Apartment search is now done via Zoom.  Car search has been placed on hold.  [the good news is she won’t be needing a car right away] Enjoying our two weeks in Seattle isn’t happening.  Next week our daughter will take her flight late in the evening and fly to her new destination.   As I type this an apartment has been found.  [phew]  Dad’s seem to navigate through these situations with less turbulance.  At least in my experience – my husband is our pilot.  My mind goes to…. what happens if the shipping of six large boxes get lost?  What if the social distance on her flight begins to irritate the wrong person and there’s an issue and then the pilot…. who isn’t her dad must land the plane?  You see where my mind goes?   Don’t judge me.   Well, go ahead and judge me – I won’t know you’re doing it anyway.   It’s my mom instinct that tells me to think about these things.  College Daughter had six years of independence.   Four years at VT gave her the ability to take charge of that thing called responsibility.   The following two years she was home attending GMU.  And though these last two years she was home, she also found herself taking that time to become more responsible and I found myself watching the flight wings grow stronger.   So why would I go to those ridiculous what-if’s?  I guess  because my mind is still learning to live this new normal.  At least for now.  Until normal becomes normal again.   Seattle is 42 hours by car, 2,761 miles, 4 hours and 43 minutes by plane.  If you wanted to know.

Our new normal feels rather strange.  I don’t like not having my friends stop in while they are out walking their dogs or coming back from a run.  I don’t like not having my own dogs go visit their friends who just happen to be my friends too.   I’ll miss my nephew’s high school graduation in Pennslyvania and I’ll miss sitting pool side chatting with other moms – especially this season as Apple heads to high school.   Summer concerts in our area that are postponed and other events that would have started the first of May are all placed “on hold”.    But I have seen some wonderful things unfold during this pandemic.  During our stayhome orders and hashtags of this, that and the other.  Neighborhood community kids painted rocks with inspirational words that line the sidewalks and trails for those of us walking the dogs or running.   Bike trails with signs to give us hope.  Announcing we are in this together and we will come out of this together.    Other signs remind us to be kind.

Pool time chats will need to wait until the end of June or possibly longer.   Dog playdates will wait.  Lake time with the family must wait and as for Seattle…..Seattle isn’t going anywhere.

I hope you are doing well.  And with this new normal……you can still find time to sip iced tea and smile.   [with fresh mint of course]

 

Momma Daisy*

 

 

Toilet Paper and Social Distancing

If you have been following my blog long enough, you know how many trips to Costco I can make in a month.   There have been times where I make a Costco trip twice in one week just because the advertisement flyer comes out on a Monday – however the sale doesn’t officially kick off until Wednesday.   This is why.  Not because I’m looking for free lunch samples.  Though it is rather exciting for me to grab a sample of Brie and water cracker.   But I never imagined making a weekly run to Costco having to look for toilet paper.  It’s become an every other day type of errand.   A decision of which Costco may be stocked of this much needed essential has become the new norm.  Looking online, checking the stock orders, Amazon, Wegmans, Harris Teeter, Lidl, WalMart, Target and pharmacies.  Each store has limited to no toilet paper.   Doing this and keeping social distancing isn’t easy.  It’s not exactly in my wiring either.  I’m a social person.  Keeping at least six feet away from the person in front and back of you in the check out line is harder than you may think.  I’m sure you have been exactly where I am.  Holding in the dry cough from seasonal allergies because you don’t want to have others you are six feet away from begin to run out of the line as if you shouted “fire!”.   We are social beings for the most part.  Maybe some more than others.  Nevertheless, moving in a sea of people grabbing mega rolls of toilet paper makes you either social or will create a new you – the introvert version of who you once were.     I can’t remember ever – never ever – a day when this sea of uncertainty  became the everyday norm.  Even after 9/11, I can’t remember having moments where I created distance from others.   Because we [as a community] came together.

Last week my family took walks on the nature trails around our urban/suburban communities.  We walked for miles on some days.   Just soaking in what we take for granted.  Tourist flock to DC for the cherry blossom trees.  We are lucky enough to have cherry blossom trees line our Northern Virginia communities.  Football Superstar pointed out two hawks looking like kites in the sky just above the Potomac.  And though we have watched hawks before – this duo gave us a new perspective.  Life is fragile.  Life is just this once at appreciating and giving back.  Being patient.  Being kind.  As we passed other people out walking, riding bikes and running, we made eye contact from our distance – nodding, waving and smiling.  Normally I’m greeting their dogs, which is the hardest part for me.  So I just gently whisper “hello baby” to their four legged companions.

But were we not given this perspective before?  We were.  And not to compare this coronavirus to 9/11, but we as people have become fragile once again.  As a society we are not sure if we should even make eye contact or offer a roll of toilet paper.   Social distancing doesn’t mean social isolation.  If you know there are people in need of essentials, do we not offer them help?    On Sunday it was absolutely gorgeous outside.  I was outside pulling tiny weeds from my flower bed when I looked up and noticed four other neighbors working in the front of their townhomes.   We must have all stood up at once because there became a wave of arms.  Some waving their gardening gloves and others their caps.   Within minutes we were having neighborly conversation.  Six feet for sure, but I would guess we were all ten feet apart.  The laughter was so full of joy and genuine happiness I’m sure the next street over could hear us.   Monday we came back from our long morning walk when two neighbors were outside finishing what they started Sunday.  Football Superstar and I could hear them laughing from our driveway.  Our neighbors were once again making the best of this new norm.

Governor Northam closed schools, most businesses and continues to give Virginia the coronavirus update.  As my husband works from our home office, Apple will finish her last year of middle school online, College Daughter will receive her Master’s diploma in the mail, we postpone our vacations or at least try to reschedule one of them and I will keep searching for toilet paper.   Who knew that a family of four, mostly three while College Daughter stays at her apartment, could use up so much toilet paper!

Here’s to your health. Mentally and physically.  Here’s to your neighborhood and their laughter.  Here’s to getting through this – together.

Momma Daisy*

20-20 or Two thousand twenty

Happy New Year!   I’m eighteen days late but hey who’s counting!  Speaking of this new year, I have no idea what’s politically correct or grammarly correct or maybe I should say in the Queens proper language  how the monarch would refer to this new year.  She may say it’s a disagreeable new year for the royals.

 

When I posted my Greetings of Christmas (Dec 3) I thought for sure I would find a little bit of wiggle room for shopping, attending dinners and events, more shopping, dog activities (yes they have holiday fun too), traveling and finding quiet time with my husband.  It was the week before Christmas when we traveled to Harpers Ferry for a Christmas Festival.  The weather held up without pouring rain but the wind was strong enough to bring a hot air balloon down to the ground.  We had a wonderful time in West Virginia.   The historic town was decorated with beautiful greens and white lights that glimmered by the waters edge where the Potomac River meets the Shenandoah River.  I’m not sure what we enjoyed most – our comfort food or the entertainment or just being part of the Christmas spirit at Harpers Ferry that day.   I think it was all the above.  And then some.

Christmas Eve Mass was standing room only.  We couldn’t even see the inside of the nave. We were standing in the sanctuary when the sweetest little boy came walking towards an older gentleman standing in front of us.  This little boy who introduced himself to the gentleman warmed my heart beyond what words can express to you.  “I’m John!” he exclaimed with one of the biggest smiles I’ve seen in a long time.  John has Down Sydrome.  His family of five stood next to Apple.  As it was time to show one another the sign of peace – John wondered from person to person offering not only his name but the sign of peace.   By the time he got around to my family he reached out to hug me.  I melted.  Seriously, I thought Football Superstar would be picking my body off the floor.  I was a puddle of mush.   By the time Mass was ending, I couldn’t keep focused on anything but John.  John was our Christmas spirit as we stood in the sanctuary.  This little six year old boy was filled with joy, happiness and everything I was not four hours before while pushing through the lines at Wegmans.  I’m at fault there – yes I know that.  I’m the adult and should have made Wegmans a priority the day before.  But I didn’t and it played with my mood rushing home getting ready for the eve.   Thanks to John,  Christmas eve put my mind exactly where it needed to be.   In peace.  And not to mention I received seven more hugs from him before exiting the sanctuary.   While walking to our car it was no coincidence John’s family parked their car on the opposite side of where we were parked.  I heard this little voice yell out, “Merry Christmas…..I’m John!”.   Needless to say I ran over to get one last Christmas Eve hug.   Wonderful family John has by the way.

Christmas day and the days to follow felt as if I blinked and they were gone.   By the time New Years Eve day dropped out from the calendar I was fifteen pounds heavier and a month behind trying to figure out what happened to December!   (laughing loudly but seriously about the fifteen pounds)  I don’t make resolutions but I will vow to never allow the holidays to rush passed me like those advanced runners during a 5K.  Note I said 5K because a 10K would be stretching the truth.  Maybe that will be my resolution – running a 10K again.

 

Getting my house back to where it was before the holidays and events isn’t something I rush to do.  Once day of Epiphany has passed we then begin the task of taking down the tree and removing all that shines merry and bright during the holiday season.  Winter can be a pretty time of year, but I always felt no matter where we lived, my home always looked half empty or as if it was missing something.  Like a giant tree in the room.  But mostly because Christmas and its celebration brightens the room without the tree lights on.  And thanks to John, my memory of Christmas 2019 was made even more shiny.

So this new year for me will continue to hold Costco runs, Walmart disasters and weekly Wegmans runs.  It should also hold a new fitness center membership, writing webinars, marketing webinars, book clubs (this year I’ll be sure to attend) and the determination to paint Apple’s bedroom.   Check in with me – by March I’ll let you know if her bedroom was painted, how my writing is coming along and if I’m running a 5K anytime soon.

 

Happiest of New Years!

And peace be with you.

Momma Daisy*

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Merry & Bright
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Murphy & Hamish
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My handsome hubby

 

Greetings of Christmas

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Christmas season is here.   And it came so early!   I’m still working through Thanksgiving festivities, putting fall decorations away and pulling out my Christmas decor.  I love Christmas.  It was also my mother’s favorite holiday.   By now, my mother would have her Christmas cards written out with Christmas postage.  Her cards would be sent out the second week of December.   Cards my parents received in the mail would be displayed perfectly on a decorative ribbon above the mantel.  Every single card.

My Christmas cards are not written out – yet.  But I have four new boxes of holiday cards to send out this season.  What happened to snail mail cards?   My friend Jeannie and I were having this conversation recently.  Years of postage increase?  Perhaps it’s time management?  Perhaps we lost sight of what the Christmas card greeting truly means?  I don’t know why card sending has become less and less over the years, but one thing for sure Hallmark and American Greeting card companies are still boxing up the favorites.  My trip to Wegmans the week before Thanksgiving, I found a box of adorable holiday cards with Golden Retrievers on the front that caught my eye as I stood in the check out line.  Fourteen dollars later they came home with me.  It was an impulse purchase but I couldn’t help it, the dog needed to come home with me.  The dog on the card in a box of twelve.

A friend who lives up north sent me a message regarding my new address.  Yvonne wanted to double check the return address lable.    It’s that time of year when we double check our address books.  I have an address file on my laptop – however I still have my old fashion written down in a book [Susan Branch address book] address list.   As a matter of fact, I believe Yvonne gifted me the Susan Branch address book from moons ago when we were teaching at the same pre-school!   And I mean moons ago!

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Vintage cards with glitter.  Victorian post cards and family portraits of yesteryear are some of my favorite.

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Christmas greetings come in so many ways to express the season.  And that’s what is so awesome about receiving a snail mail Christmas greeting.  Whether it’s humorous, warm and serious, religious or affectionate, you can’t deny the fact a Christmas card doesn’t warm your heart.

 

Tis’ the season!

Momma Daisy*

 

Change of Seasons

My mother-in-law loved summer, but she welcomed autumn with a broad smile anticipating cooler temperatures for her special sweaters.  Once November officially arrived she would begin decorating for another favorite.  Thanksgiving.

This November will be hard for Football Superstar and our family.   October 10th we received a phone call Mom K. passed away in her sleep – suddenly – unexpectantly.

The quietness of our drive back home had me focused on everything  this matriarch stood for.  Her family, her church, friends and of course the ocean.  Bridge every week with a dose of water aerobics.   Adding to her photo album [she had dozens of them] or watching Penn State football games from her recliner.    She gave so much to so many and ask nothing in return – well maybe more photos of the kids and the dogs and us.

Mom K. would make her Sunday evening phone call to us and if we couldn’t be reached I made sure we spoke on the phone a day or two later.  I’m so happy our Sunday phone call happened on the evening of the 6th.  She talked endlessly about how Penn State dominated the game.  As always we talked about the kids, the dogs and life.   This conversation Mom K. was focused on College Daughters graduation.  Mom K. must have said a half dozen times how proud she is of College Daughter.   But Mom K. was proud of each one of her grandchildren.  If there was a Proud Grammy award she earned it.

Mom K. will be buried with her beloved husband in Arlington National Cemetery.   Her memorial took place in Pennsylvania at the very church she and my father-in-law were married in.  The very church she met the love of her life after her parents moved their family from NY.   My inlaws story sounded very much like a romance novel.   Her story was adventurous.    While raising five boys Mom K. would tell you nothing frightened her.  Broken bones, concussions and endless hospital visits for stitches all while my father-in-law was running the family business – she somehow came through each season smiling.

 

It’s quiet on Sunday evenings as I  wait for the phone to ring.    And yet I remind myself that living shy of 95 years and being a part of her life – I do have my Sunday evening phone calls.  I just quietly whisper to her ” what a game! …..I love you”.

 

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Momma Daisy*

a little is better than no little

Here I am again – trying to hang on to the last specs of summer.  Autumn doesn’t officially arrive until September 23rd.  But you would think it is here in full bloom from the likes of advertisements and discarded Starbuck cups that contained Pumpkin Spiced latte or chai.  Starbucks, Costco (sigh), Target, WalMart and Wegmans would have you believe it’s fall Autumn.  I prefer the word Autumn.  My mother always used the word Autumn when Autumn truly came to its peak season.  Not in August or Labor Day weekend.  Not on September 10th.  Autumn came on the day Autumnal Equinox was posted in the Farmer’s Almanac.  My mother was not a farmer.  She wasn’t raised on a farm.  But she certainly enjoyed reading the Farmer’s Almanac for gardening tips and actual dates for Autumn.   I digressed…….

So today like any other Monday I decided to check my e-mail in hopes that I had something exciting – perhaps even a little something in my box from one of the two publishers that have me hanging on a thread.   Nothing except the advertisements for “M” publishing letting me know I may submit a draft to them any time.  Um, that already happened months ago.  The advertisement on the side of my inbox was no less Starbucks Pumpkin Spiced latte.  Come and get it now!   What?  Are they going to run out of artificial pumpkin spiced flavoring?   So with having little to no interest for my draft with publisher #1, I sent an e-mail to publisher #2.   #2 was suggested by a friend.  Mark told me he published three magazine articles and co-wrote one book through this company and he was very pleased with how they handled each step.   Either I need to change the animal in my book to a fish or how to fly fish because little to no interest is what I’m collecting at this time.   It’s draining to me and I feel defeated.  I really never have the feeling of defeat.  I sometimes get poo-pooey when it comes to not having a plan or idea fall in place when I’ve worked hard on it.   Sometimes I just put the plan or idea aside and come back to it when my mind has cleared or as I’ve experienced lately “writters block”.   And it’s twice as poo-pooey when #1 publisher indicated they were a little interested in my idea.  My draft and those pictures that were attached to the draft.  A little interested is better than no little interest.    I had a dream that someone published a book – and their writing style was mine.  The pictures were actually my animal in the book and the author was lucky enough to have a display set up directly front and center at my local Barnes & Noble.  I rarely remember dreams but that one woke me up and I was ready to hire an attorney until I looked around in my bedroom noticing Football Superstar was still sleeping in our bed – not sitting in the spectators area in a court room as I filed a motion to whatever.    If I had my mother sitting here with me I know exactly what she would tell me to do.   And with that I will end this post here.   I’ll get back to cleaning my deck off from falling leaves – and make a pitcher of iced tea for later this afternoon.   I’ll enjoy my last specs of summer before autumnal Equinox comes to greet me.

Happy last specs of summer ~ and remember a little is better than no little

Momma Daisy*

 

Wonderful Walmart

I can’t say I enjoy making trips to Walmart.   I prefer Costco and Wegmans but there are some things I just can’t get from Wegmans and lets face it, one doesn’t always need a thousand count package of protein bars from Costco.  So off to Walmart I went this morning in the misty rain listening to 80’s music on DCTalk radio.  This trip didn’t include protein bars or any other type of protein.  This trip to Walmart was for five more dividers (5 count, 8 CLEAR tabs) packs and a 24 pack of colored pencils, a (black) 1.5″ binder and a large container of Ice Breakers spearmint gum.   I’m guessing the gum is not for French ll class.  After ordering and gathering the essentials for Apple’s new school year a week ago – yesterday was the first day of school for her.  I’ve learned over the years there may be one or two classes that need specific items.  Like tissues.   Paper towels.

Sharpies too.  Sharpies have so much more to offer than adding your kids name on items in huge BLOCK letters to avoid theft in the lunch room.   On Apple’s YETI water bottle our last name was not only in BLOCK letters but it was written with the extra bold point Sharpie!    Yeah, well that’ll stop you from taking her bright sea foam blue YETI water bottle.

An hour later I collected everything needed from the yellow sticky note list Apple posted on my arm this morning before she sat down to eat her Cheerios.  Like I was going to somehow forget the 1.5″ black binder, she took a Sharpie orange highlighter and made a dozen circles around the word Binder.    Exhausted and hungry I walked over to the cracker/cookie/snack aisle and found Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies staring at me.  I thought to myself I shouldn’t.  I really should NOT because my doctor put me on a restricted diet which does not include sugars, carbs and cholesterol.    Dang you Pepperidge Farm!   I looked at the Milano flavors I would typcially find at Wegmans but this day I found two of the best flavor marriages.   Dark chocolate and sea salt.   It felt like fifteen mintues went but it was only a matter of seconds when I quickly grabbed a bag and placed it in my cart behind the 1.5″ black binder.   Just in case my doctor was at Walmart and she would point out the bag of Milano’s.   Highly doubt that would happen but it’s me so you never know!

I’m standing in the check out line #5.   As I begin to place my items on the belt, a woman behind me was looking towards my cart.  She didn’t look happy but she certainly didn’t look mad either – she was just looking.   So I tried not to make eye contact with her and continue doing my own thing.   Just then she said “oh, wow, those cookies look delicious!”.    Oh, so that’s what she was doing!    Staring at my bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano dark chocolate sea salt marriage of a cookie!   We began chatting about the combo of chocolate and sea salt.  Caramel and sea salt are amazing.  This is a first we both noticed this particular flavor.   I’m beginning to pay when I thought what the heck…why not.   I found the bag of cookies after I payed for my school supplies for French ll class and gum for Resourse and Sharpies when I opened up the dark chocolate sea salt cookies and said lets eat them now!   Wide eyed and shocked this woman who was looking sad or mad or just intense on reading what type of cookie bag was hiding behind the 1.5″ binder  was smiling like a little girl on her way to Disney to meet Cinderella for the first time.   We were knee deep in people behind us – but this woman had a lot more items in her cart so we had time to endulge and enjoy two cookies each as people watched and stared or judged or all three.  I didn’t care.  Neither did she.  And as much as we ooooed and said the word delicious about a dozen times – we never bothered to introduce ourselves.  Only enjoyed eating cookies while checking out at Walmart.   Two complete strangers brought together all thanks to Pepperidge Farm. Two complete strangers laughing and eating cookies at check out #5.  Have a good day and thank you she said as I walked away with my open bag of cookies and school supplies.   I drove home giggling as if I did  something absolutely crazy during my trip to wonderful Walmart.

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Momma Daisy*

 

Time escapes me once again.   Getting another notice that my blog hasn’t been updated or previewed since April.  This only means one thing or two – I get a post created and up by sundown (but it’s raining here so I don’t know when that will be) or my blog goes into the black hole of cyber world.

Summer is always a busy time for us.  It’s a fun time but busy.  Busy can sometimes be a disturbance when you try to organize or schedule the in between important things that must be completed before the next season rolls around.  And I’m not ready for the next season.  No way.  No how.

We took an early trip to the lake a week after Apple got out of school.   The week was wonderful.  Lake Life has a way of turning our chaos to a simple semi-quiet kind of chaos.  In this family there is no way of shutting out the chaos completely.  If you’ve ever traveled with a dog that needs to be in the water swimming twenty four hours of her day it’s chaos.  She doesn’t care who is around or what is in her way – you watch out because she’s going to make one giant mad leap over your head whether you are in the water swimming or in a kayak.  Move.                                                                                                          Meanwhile the other four legged furchild is swimming around the lake trying to catch the main course for our evening meal.  Mallard wasn’t on our meal plan but it was for him so chaos errupted when he just about had the mister of the duo.  No, he wasn’t successful in getting the mallard.  But he was cheered on by other lake lifers who have brand new docks and boats.  Ducks are like seagulls at times.  Messy and always up in your personal space.

We humans had a wonderful time.  We were down one since College Daughter was in Kentucky.  When the job calls for collecting data one must go to Fort Knox!   But don’t frown, she headed to Virginia Beach with friends for a long weekend and will go back to Seattle in a few weeks to visit friends (again) then off to the Chesapeak with us before heading back to work.  Life of a college student can be eventful and challenging.  I don’t wish to be back there for all the chocolate in the world!

Football Superstar needed to jump back in the work field after returning from the lake.   But it didn’t stop him from pulling up his schedule and working through the calendar to see if we can get back to the lake before the end of August.  For Murphy, of course!

 

Since we’ve been back I have had a few staging/home decor request.  One for a friend who is moving soon and the other for some signs to be made with repurposed barn wood.  It’s certainly a jump start back to the fun of decorating.   When working on the furniture side of things I found myself pulling items out of my own home either for upcycled decor or recycled by Patriot trash.  haha  I really do miss having a shop – but for now I’ll use other peoples homes or my own home to play decorator.

Summer never seems to stay around long enough to accomplish everything I set out to do.  Like visiting friends and family up north.  Or taking more staycations with my family.  We keep talking about hiking the Shenandoah mountains this summer.  Last fall we took the sky line drive and I refused to get out of the car because I couldn’t find the bear that everyone was talking about spotting thirty minutes before we parked.  Football Superstar and College Daughter were talking about white water rafting.  No thanks, I’ll go tubing or kayaking in the calm waters.  Especially after learning College Daughter did flip out of her kayak a few months ago in West Virginia.  Happy Mother’s day turned my hair just a tad more gray.   I’ll get back to you on the white water rafting trip – after we hike through the Ohio Canal to Harpers Ferry.  Just keep coyotes and bear at a distance and I’ll be just fine.

Soon enough school will begin for Apple and College Daughter will enter her last year at GMU.  An eighth grader and the other earning her masters.   Where has the time gone?

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I’m going to capture time in a bottle and keep summer all year long.

Momma Daisy*

A blog post with no title.

A blog post with no title is like a writer with no pen and paper (or in my case laptop).  A blog post with no title is [also] like a writer who thinks she has it all together and it begins to tear at the seam.

This has been my month(s).  From the beginning of March and its monsterous entrance until the ending of this very month we are about to bid farewell – I have been on a roller coaster ride and if you haven’t read my post from moons ago – I dislike roller coasters.  Losing readers isn’t a huge deal, well it can be a huge deal when you’re about to write a book and would like to have some readers at least a couple dozen or thousand readers to look at the finished product.   I’ll settle for a couple dozen at this point.  What publishers don’t tell you is what your doing “right”.  Oh, they love to tell you it’s not exactly what consumers are reading these days.  What are they, the consumers reading besides text messages and I don’t want to sound braggy, but I will, the content of my book is a lot funnier than their, the consumers text messages.  I don’t have an emoji under each paragraph, perhaps that’s the problem.  I don’t have paragraphs, that’s the problem!  Perhaps it is due to the fact my [book] plan was never to have a novel written by the end of 2040, but to have exactly the type of book I enjoy reading.  Me, the consumer.  I found myself floating around the glorious display of books at Barnes and Noble last week.   Confession, I was to be at my husbands office working on his biz page and updating his social media biz page but pages of different material called to me so I walked across the street to B&N.   Displays surrounded me and I found myself just standing there feeling rather small and sheepish.   Like I could actually have a book contract with a mega book store – maybe just maybe the mom and pop book store that is so desparate for new reads will take pitty on me and give me a contract for free coffee with each book sold.

Barnes and Noble has always been one of my favorite book stores.  A long time ago, Borders Books was my go to place where I would meet friends on a Friday night and sit in the cool cafe drinking espresso and reading garden books and books about dogs.  And every now and then I would pick out a book with amazing photos and warm inspirational quotes.  Now these books are everywhere.  And they make the best gifts for like-minded readers who enjoy cute fuzzy animals who give you inspiration while you sip your mint tea.

My book writing has been placed on its own shelf for about three weeks.    My laptop crashed, or so I thought and it turned out to be something simple – like the charger.   I’m blessed to have a husband who is patient because I usually have a melt down thinking I’ll need a new laptop, or never be able to write this dang-gone book because of a charger!   A charger was ordered and delivered by the time I devoured a bag of Pirate’s Booty.  Costco size Pirate’s Booty.   Only two days and the charger was at my door step.  Don’t judge me on the cheesey puffs.   I sat down to begin searching for some of the best photos I could find of Murphy.  Clarity.  Remember that word from another post, clarity is the key as well as crisp brightness.  Learning to look for resolution in a picture for me is like looking for a contact when it falls on tile flooring.  I no longer wear contacts.   If I have fifty photos of Murphy scattered across my dining room table, I’m partial to each one.  I can’t subtract any!   Most definitely there will be shadows and lacking clarity and maybe someones big head in the background, but those pictures are perfect to me.  And then experts come in to the picture, no pun intended, letting me know they don’t agree with my choices.  I guess it’s what we pay the experts for.  That’s what my husband says. So he’s an expert and people pay him but guess what – they aren’t looking at pictures of my dog who I happen to think she makes a bad hair day for a Golden Retriever look pretty amazing.   Insert a new bag of Pirate’s Booty.

Apple gets sick.  She’s home from school for two days and she’s miserable being home.  College Daughter is healthy but frazzled because two labs are due by the end of April.  Do you ever wonder what sitting in class was like before you were married and had kids?  I digressed….    Football Superstar has three new clients coming in from two different states.  He’s been busy, which is great, but that sometimes leaves us with a thirty minute briefing over morning coffee before one of us needs to move on with the days agenda.   What we both agree on is that family time is needed and that means no laptop, cell phones, Alexa or TV.    My supportive husband did come up with a great plan and that is when it is time to unplug from the world, this will give me the perfect time to plug in and begin creating those pages.   Take more photos with a camera and enjoy every moment of unplugging from the real world.  We’ll come back to the real world and when we do hopefully more refreshed and feeling less frazzled about labs and SOLs.

And maybe by the time I create another post for this blog – it’ll have a title.

 

Momma Daisy*

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