Did you ever see such a sight?

three_blind_mice_img_2Last weekend, in between mini-celebrations, I perused the garden center at D&B. I was looking for Pineapple Sage (found it!), when I spied the garden sculptures from ee-i-ee-i-o (Think Outside). The cow planter first caught my eye; when I saw the blind mice, I may have made a scene. This photo hardly does them justice. They’re such handsome fellows.

I may need one, or three.

Speaking of which, I plan to work in the garden this weekend. The initial cold snap last fall killed off three rose bushes and a blanket rose. Oh the shenanigans involved with digging those suckers up. I’m sure it’s a sight to behold. It’s also set me behind a bit. Needless to say, I’m hoping to get a lot done tomorrow.

We’ll see how that works out for me.

As for you, whether here or there, indoors or out, I hope the days ahead find you warm, safe, and dry. I hope they hold a bit of color. I hope they hold memories, the likes of which you’ve never seen.

Happy weekend, my lovelies!


Committing it to memory

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From the outside, it may have appeared I did not properly celebrate Memorial Day. There were no flags flown; no solemn observances or patriotic parades. Now that I mention, there was nary a BBQ.

But for a weekend that looked to be laid back, it ended full of life. It began with an unexpected visit from an aunt and uncle; it continued with a lawn party at the new home of my cousin and her lovely family; it ended with brunch on the patio at the home of another aunt and uncle . . .

You know, my family had a bit of a scare the last few weeks. We almost lost someone we love, quite unexpectedly and out of the blue. While I can’t give details, as it’s not my story to tell, I can tell you it has highlighted this fact: life is precious. It should be celebrated with those you love.

The fact I got to spend the weekend with my family, made me all the more aware of those who lost the chance. That is, after all, what Memorial Day is about, remembering. It’s also the act of committing something (or someone) to memory, of writing it on our hearts, so as not to forget.

Seems my weekend was full of that, too . . .

Keep calm, and carry on. Sure, it’s been played upon ad nauseum, but the history behind the saying is quite solemn. Printed by the British government in 1939, it was meant to bolster the resolve of the British people–those who found themselves living under constant threat of air attacks. Keep calm, and carry on . . . my uncle is a living example of putting that motto into action. Cool as a cucumber, that’s my Uncle Bob. Nothing much riles the man. People passing in treacherous road conditions? What a bunch of idiots; they’re trampling my last and final nerve–that’s my first reaction. My uncle’s: They won’t get far; they just don’t know. I’m convinced the ability to stay calm under fire is the beginning of wisdom. I want to be like that when I grow up.

Give it a chance + fill it will love. My cousin and her family recently purchased a house that had been on the market for roughly forever. “Fixer-upper” did not begin to describe the poor old place. But in a month’s time, they managed to whip it into shape–scraping tar off the walls, ripping out carpet, painting, restoring wood floors. Dozens of us showed up on Sunday to see the progress (the photo, above, was the photo booth set up in their backyard). I’m happy to report it passed the nose-test, for one. Two, it’s absolutely gorgeous. It’s full of color and quirk and all the things they love. They’ve turned an old forgotten house into a warm, inviting home–one that makes you smile, the moment you enter.  Just goes to show you, it’s not about name brands or the latest fads; it’s certainly not about everything matching. At home, as in life, the key is to give it a chance and fill it with love.

Take time for the little moments. The last day of the three-day weekend began with breakfast with another aunt and uncle. We sat on their porch, around a table filled with fresh coffee, bacon, Swedish pancakes, berries, and homemade syrup.  The sun shone, the birds sang, we chatted. We also spent a moment in prayer–in gratitude, for those who gave their lives for freedom, and in supplication for those left behind. You know, with all that’s been going on, it would have been easy to decline the invitation. I’m glad I said yes to that small moment of time, with the people I love. It was a perfect ending to an altogether lovely weekend. And it’s moments such as those that make freedom so very grand.

And I quote

In other words

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A day to remember


Here in the U.S. we’re headed for a long weekend—Memorial Day weekend, to be precise. Considered by many to be the kickoff to summer, it tends toward a celebration of campouts and BBQs, family to-dos and laughter with friends.

Of course, it’s so much more.

For Memorial Day began as Decoration Day—a day set aside to decorate the graves of those who died in the American Civil War. There were 750,000 of them, you know—seven hundred and fifty thousand sons and brothers, husbands and fathers who never came home.

That’s one war, alone.

Needless to say, I hope the coming days find you free to do as you please. I also hope you take a moment to remember the sacrifice of those who paid the highest price for that freedom—both the men and women who gave their lives and those they left behind.

For we dare not think where we’d be without them . . .


And I quote

In other words


. . . and I don’t know about you, but I’ve got some skills.