|It took awhile, but now I am glad Mother Nature dropped in this unplanned Rose of Sharon|
Whenever it rains, it doesn't matter how hard I'm working, it feels like vacation.
With the first drops of the season giving the earth the first wet-kiss of the season, that last grasp of summer's hot breath last weekend is now a memory as distant as the moon.
Yesterday was a blustery day to visit our accountant. A weather description that surely will bring laughter to relatives in northern latitudes. Half our circle of friends and family are already shoveling snow while I am putting finishing touches on an article about planting wildflowers.
Thankfully, business duties put me near Judy Duvall for a belated birthday celebration. God graced this friend with this thousand mega watt smile and divinely husky voice. I am blessed that she is part of a group of girlfriends who put up with my journalist's quirks in attitude and behavior. I pray she has many more years filled with music, laughter and love.
Drive-time home in the greater LA Area- one develops great sympathy for salmon swimming upstream. However, being fortunate enough to be caught in traffic when two of my favorite journalists, Jake Tapper and Hugh Hewitt were chatting on current events- as a not fully-recovered political geek- I understand I have it better than the fish.
Home. Every item filled with memories. The changing of this season is swift. Time to open the fireplace flu, light a log and scented candle. Unpack the electric blankets to warm the reclining chairs for a rare evening of just enjoying my husband's company.
Near the fireplace is the rocking chair my wonderful sister-in-law Billie Plunk rocked her babies in. Like the Velveteen Rabbit of literature - it was loved so much that some of it plain wore out. But the gorgeous lines of the chair- its solid construction- I was thrilled that she let me bring it home. Recover it. And dream of visits where I will read out loud to our darling granddaughter.
|Stock items are now easy to find.|
Confession. The last couple years: life had gotten out of hand. This summer I hired myself to take back control. One closet. One drawer. One shelf. One shed at a time. Physical organization= personal and professional empowerment.
|Yes- the top row of soups are alphabetized|
Above it are the over-flow of kitchen gadgetry that made happy memories. Upside- down acrylic frames serve as shallow shelves for cookie cutters, tools for frosting- things I often thought should be passed to Goodwill. But didn't.
For that I am glad. For I am finding in these years between beauty and the grave that memories aren't just about the past. Planning for future memories is a great joy- if you can find what it is you need.