Some of the lilacs are beginning to fade in my yard. I have several late blooming ones that are just opening so I’ll have that scent around for a while yet. The irises are beginning to bloom, some deep purple ones and some pink ones while the blue flowered irises are taking a later bus since they don't like to share the splendor. The poppies will open soon. I have a lot of peonies this year and they will show up in a few weeks, too. Then roses, clematis, hydrangeas and coreopsis. As one set of blooms gives up pride of place, the next yells “look at me, look at me!”
I don’t know all the lessons to be learned from a garden, but I have learned that everything has it’s time to be enjoyed before fading away. Once it’s gone, you might miss it and be sorry it has passed, but you can remember it was glorious. Then you look around and relish what else has come along. Everything, everyone, has a time to bloom and part of the joy is knowing memories linger long after the scent has faded. Even in the midst of late blooming hydrangeas, we recall the spring.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Living the imaginary life
There is a shop in a little town in California called Theatre of Dreams. The sign on the door reads, Theatre of Dreams - Objects for an IMAGINARY LIFE. I ask you, how cool is that? And the little town is a ghost town so there is a bit of mystery to add to the mix, too.
I live mostly an imaginary life because I live so much in my head. I walk through reality, but I don’t live there very much. Probably because I write fiction, there is always a story going on in my head or there are visions of whimsies I want to create and there are many quiet places or garden paths or corners where I can recharge. There are surprises tucked into old trunks, too, along with books never written by my favorite authors and old movies cast with actors and actresses that, in reality, have not been made. There are conjurers preforming magic tricks that are not explained just enjoyed and illusions I glimpse out of the corner of my eye. There are people dressed in old fashioned clothing wearing gloves and hats who applaud my smallest endeavor and murmur excitedly whenever it appears I’m going to do something, but otherwise, I don’t notice them. It’s quite comforting.
I’m sure the imaginary life I lead could sound quite bizarre to anyone else, but I’d bet a lot of people live in their heads, too. It’s a fun place. Well, it’s a fun place for me to be. Hope everyone else’s imaginary life is a fun place, too.
I live mostly an imaginary life because I live so much in my head. I walk through reality, but I don’t live there very much. Probably because I write fiction, there is always a story going on in my head or there are visions of whimsies I want to create and there are many quiet places or garden paths or corners where I can recharge. There are surprises tucked into old trunks, too, along with books never written by my favorite authors and old movies cast with actors and actresses that, in reality, have not been made. There are conjurers preforming magic tricks that are not explained just enjoyed and illusions I glimpse out of the corner of my eye. There are people dressed in old fashioned clothing wearing gloves and hats who applaud my smallest endeavor and murmur excitedly whenever it appears I’m going to do something, but otherwise, I don’t notice them. It’s quite comforting.
I’m sure the imaginary life I lead could sound quite bizarre to anyone else, but I’d bet a lot of people live in their heads, too. It’s a fun place. Well, it’s a fun place for me to be. Hope everyone else’s imaginary life is a fun place, too.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Pain and gain
In case there is anyone out there who has not heard, my appendix ruptured last week. I have to say that even with the excellent drugs I was given, it has not been all fun and games.
There was pain, a lot of pain, but no longer. In fact, there is no pain at all. Big sigh of relief.
I am home and recovering. I feel fine. I cannot express how monumental this simple thing is to me now. I feel fine. If you haven’t been feeling fine, it is amazing when, once again, you do. It’s fantastic when there is such a difference, when feeling fine is feeling great.
So thank you to everyone who thought of me or prayed, who said a kind word or sent a card or a plant or who ran all over finding something good for me to eat and picked up endless prescriptions. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Because of you, I feel fine.
There was pain, a lot of pain, but no longer. In fact, there is no pain at all. Big sigh of relief.
I am home and recovering. I feel fine. I cannot express how monumental this simple thing is to me now. I feel fine. If you haven’t been feeling fine, it is amazing when, once again, you do. It’s fantastic when there is such a difference, when feeling fine is feeling great.
So thank you to everyone who thought of me or prayed, who said a kind word or sent a card or a plant or who ran all over finding something good for me to eat and picked up endless prescriptions. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Because of you, I feel fine.
Friday, April 17, 2009
(Dande)Lions and Tiger(lilies)s and Bear(ded Irises)s
Oh, my!
The area nurseries are opening today. Even though it is still too early to plant much of what I want, I’m going to stop by just to see flowers and colors and sniff the air.
I’ve been checking my yard and the lilacs are loaded with blooms this year, yippie! I planted an azalea last fall and it has bright pink blooms ready to open. The hydrangeas all have leaf buds and the day lilies and poppies are pushing up green leaves. The peonies are pushing up red shoots. All this means I didn’t kill everything! The plants survived my care! Hurrah!
I’ve got to plant some daffodils for next year, just a couple so that I can see their bright little faces in the morning. They look so cheerful.
Happy spring.
The area nurseries are opening today. Even though it is still too early to plant much of what I want, I’m going to stop by just to see flowers and colors and sniff the air.
I’ve been checking my yard and the lilacs are loaded with blooms this year, yippie! I planted an azalea last fall and it has bright pink blooms ready to open. The hydrangeas all have leaf buds and the day lilies and poppies are pushing up green leaves. The peonies are pushing up red shoots. All this means I didn’t kill everything! The plants survived my care! Hurrah!
I’ve got to plant some daffodils for next year, just a couple so that I can see their bright little faces in the morning. They look so cheerful.
Happy spring.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Climbing Everest
Journeys can be once around the block, a couple of times around the world or any length in between. Journeys on which you climb your own Everest have the most meaning for on these journeys you leave your boot prints in the snow. Unlike the pristine field of snow ahead of you, you’ve left a mark. Sometimes others can follow, but most frequently, your boot prints are there for you alone. The boot prints will rarely be in a straight line up the mountain. It doesn’t matter. Keep climbing.
Climbing your own Everest is worth the effort even if you don’t make the summit. For one thing, even if you only get a little bit higher the view is better. For another, the air is rarified. Rarified can mean air so thin it makes you lightheaded, but also elevated, exalted, noble, grand in purpose, and to convert into something of higher worth. How cool is that? In your whole life, you may not reach the summit and it doesn’t matter. The journey’s the thing. One step at a time. Keep climbing.
Journeys such as writing a book can be made without leaving home or you can travel around the world to do it. There are journeys through rehab or the journey as you raise a child. Whatever your journey, whatever your Everest, it doesn’t matter. Pack light. Keep climbing.
Climbing your own Everest is worth the effort even if you don’t make the summit. For one thing, even if you only get a little bit higher the view is better. For another, the air is rarified. Rarified can mean air so thin it makes you lightheaded, but also elevated, exalted, noble, grand in purpose, and to convert into something of higher worth. How cool is that? In your whole life, you may not reach the summit and it doesn’t matter. The journey’s the thing. One step at a time. Keep climbing.
Journeys such as writing a book can be made without leaving home or you can travel around the world to do it. There are journeys through rehab or the journey as you raise a child. Whatever your journey, whatever your Everest, it doesn’t matter. Pack light. Keep climbing.
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