abbey style home

Hat Trick

2012-02-08T14:59:00.002-05:00

Went to the beach to see great hats.

Not any truly fascinating finds
but this is a nice floppy one providing shade for a sand lover

near Sharky's On The Pier.

The weather has been splendid here, especially for tourists.
And I have a new computer :)

Mirror, Mirror

2012-01-26T18:21:00.000-05:00

The best mirror is an old friend.

~~Peter Nivio Zarlenga

Life is like a mirror; we get the best results when we smile at it.

~~Byrd Baggett

Pardon my indulgence...

2012-01-20T16:04:00.002-05:00

....but those naughty Borgias always fascinate me.

While playing nurse to Mr. J. who is recovering from minor surgery,

I'm indulging in a re- viewing of television's Season One of The Borgias.

The series explores the sordid history of the real-life Borgia clan,

a powerful Renaissance family steered by scheming patriarch Rodrigo.

Dripping with pomp and circumstance, glittering costumes, and delicious Renaissance architecture,

the lavish Showtime drama follows the rise of the Borgia family

to the pinnacle of the Roman Catholic Church and their struggles to keep their grip on power.

Every scene arranged like a da Vinci painting.

Every tabletop set with a Rembrandt still life, every face a Raphael portrait.

I thrill at the swish of Cardinals' red robes as they sweep across stone floors.

I immerse myself in candlit interiors filled with tapestry, leaded glass windows,

mosaics and richly decorated arches.

I notice ruby rings, gold chains and crosses, tassels, fringes, fur trims.

The real-life Rodrigo Borgia (Pope Alexander VI) looks nothing like

the Rodrigo Borgia played by Jeremy Irons in the Showtime drama.

Source: Wikipedia

OK, the story is about simony, usery, public lechery, and murder.

Political intrigue.

Its visual trappings are quite secondary...or are they?

+ + +

The question is: Why does all this fascinate me so?

The rich fashions don't relate to me and my ways~~I am, after all,

one whom the perfume sample girls avoid in department stores

and fashion models, while displaying and retailing dresses, hats, and jewelry in restaurants,

never stop at my table.

I've decided that it must be the art of the production that fascinates.

Or the irony of so much evil cloaked in splendor.

If you've seen The Borgias, I'd love to hear what intrigued you most. Or not.

2012-01-16T12:10:00.001-05:00

Woman sitting at the edge of the water, Sarasota Jungle Garden.

Now and then it's good

to pause in our pursuit of happiness

and just be happy.

~~Guillaume Apollinaire

Running Lessons

2012-01-07T10:10:00.002-05:00

The Five S's of sports training are: Stamina, Speed, Strength, Skill and Spirit;

but the greatest of these is Spirit.

~~Ken Doherty

Lesson One:

Get ready. Dress for the occasion.

Lesson Two:

Stand in line and wait your turn.

This is 20-month-old Landon, ready for a 1-3-year-old 100-meter kids' race.

Lesson Three:

When they count down from 3, to 2, to 1, and say "GO!" you can go!!!

It's fun to run!

Lesson Four:

My mom doesn't need to carry me.

I can do it myself!

Lesson Five:

Sometimes I fall down...

...it hurts, but I can get back up...

...and go again!

Lesson Six:

I finish what I start.

Lesson Seven:

When Mom likes what I do, we do high-fives!

...and Dad rides me on his shoulders.

You have a choice.

You can throw in the towel,

or use it to wipe the sweat off your face.

~~Gatorade

Blind Date at Blind Pass

2011-12-28T12:04:00.004-05:00

Karen, The Essential Beachcomber, and I met for the first time at Blind Pass yesterday morning.
I was excited to meet her, a blogging friend who lives just 20 miles away.
"I'll be driving a white Honda Pilot," she said. "Look for a tall blonde!"
And there she was as we drove up, tall and blonde,
seated on the opened end of her vehicle, ready and waiting.

I arrived with my family Christmas guests, happily anticipating the hunt.
Karen had offered to mentor Blake (10) and Hunter (11)
in the art of hunting fossilized sharks' teeth in the best place she knew~~
Blind Pass on Manasota Key.

A shark shovel for sifting sand, shells, and~~hopefully~~a shark's tooth.

There are several methods for searching the sand and the sea, she said.

One is to scoop directly from the sea, digging into the sand.

Another is to walk along the sand at low tide, hoping that the waves have brought some to the surface and that you spot them before others do!
I heard Hunter ask Karen why this beach is so good for hunting
and she said, "Because there's no one here!"

Blake is making good progress...

note the plastic bag of collected sharks' teeth.

Karen taught the boys a third method: Dig a trough in the sand and wait for a wave

to fill it with water~~and possibly bring in a tooth. It happened!

They also learned about The Boneyard~~an area between the Service Club Park and the jetty of Venice, Florida filled with fossilized bones. Besides sharks' teeth, fossils of other marine creatures are found in this area. You can see the boats and divers out on the water, searching for big treasures. Because millions of years ago most of Florida was under water, many fossils are also found inland.

However, state law prohibits digging without a permit.

Blake and Hunter's fossil finds are small by comparison

but they're thrilled by the hunt. So is their dad...but that's another story.

It takes concentration and sharp eyes to discern the differences between sharks' teeth

and the black debris in the shell/sand crush.

At one point, a proud shark's tooth hunter came along and showed the boys his big find...
he actually found it several years ago but enjoys taking it out of his carpenter's apron and showing it off every year as he walks the beach looking for more great finds.

Last shot at the beach as a storm kicked up and sent us running for our vehicles.

Below: Blake and Hunter's finds laid out on paper towels

after washing them up in the kitchen sink.

Note to Karen: THANK YOU for a marvelous morning! It added so much meaning, history, and appreciation to Blake and Hunter's Florida experiences...also for the rest of the family.

And, check out this hilarious picture of everyone in

the Sharks' Tooth Squat!

I look forward to seeing you again soon!

Hugs and Happy Hunting,

Becky

Home Work

2011-12-26T17:47:00.005-05:00

The Versatile Blogger Award came my way as a gift from Tina.
A few months earlier, Glenda sent me the same award.

It comes with strings attached~~complete a writing assignment called
7 Things You Didn't Know About Me.

I'm finding a little break in the holidays,

just enough time enough to reflect and reveal bits of my life,

which, for the most part,

has been a simple one.

1. I had cosmetic surgery at 9.

My grandfather paid for it because he wanted the kids to stop teasing me

about the dark birthmarks on my cheeks.

2. I'm addicted to television's Law and Order.

3. After earning 38 graduate credits toward a Master's degree

in Education of the Mentally Retarded,

I abandoned it before writing the thesis.

4. My favorite book: Meditations by Marcus Aurelius.

It's also one of Bill Clinton's favorites.

5. I'm a Scorpio.

So were Marie Antoinette, Madame Curie, and Sarah Bernhardt.

6. After graduating with a B. A.,

I taught Art in public schools for five years.

7. I beat the drums and marched the playing fields
in my high school and college bands.

Heading out to meet our family guests
at the Soda Fountain.
We'll be scooping ice cream :)

And, tomorrow, we'll drive out to Manasota Key to meet up with
Karen from The Essential Beachcomber (one of my favorite blogging friends)
where she'll show my grandsons her sweetest spot for hunting fossilized sharks' teeth.

Hope your holidays are going well.

Have a very merry...

2011-12-09T12:13:00.001-05:00

My computer quit this morning after I started a new post with this white amaryllis~~
my intention was to make a sort of Christmas card.

Instead, I went to the computer store for a diagnosis.
Performance: Poor.
The choice is to spend money on an aging computer or buy a new one.
Will confer with Mr. J.
Meanwhile, I'm at the neighborhood FedEx computer to say
I'll be gone for awhile...

Have a lovely finish to the season and I'll see you next year!

just my type

2011-11-30T05:14:00.003-05:00

Stylish lettering
and typographic design elements give me little decorating thrills so
I'm pulling out the fonts for Christmas this year.

First, some Christmas notes.
This year I copied an illuminated music score on cardstock,
envelopes sealed with wax stamps~~

Then, discovered a fun alphabet scratched out on cotton bedding at IKEA.

Perfect for a sleeper sofa in the lanai.

A clearance ampersand at Target stands in as sculpture on the sunny side of our living room.

A little back story:

Two linked letters~e and t~make a cursive symbol for the conjunction and, as in et, the Latin word for and. It is said that Andre-Marie Ampere used the symbol in his widely-read publications so often that people began calling the shape "Ampere's and."

On the darker, lamp-lit side of the room, the curvy number "8" from Seed gets a pedestal.

And the computer is good for a few fonts...so I printed letters on paper, trimmed and laminated them

as ornaments for the potted Norfolk Island Pine in the bay window.

The tree tells the nativity story in scripture.

Stars made from my handmade paper supply add a little three-dimensional glitter.

Dictionary coasters,

a quotable journal for capturing favorites

glittery word wraps satisfy my decorating whims for the season.

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.
~~Sir Walter Scott

Walking on Water, Part II

2011-11-23T18:04:00.000-05:00

And the Pied Piper said, "We're making water!!!"

And there was water.

Clear, flowing water.

"Retrospect" pedestal sink: American Standard. "Boardwalk" brushed nickel sink fixture: Moen.

Valentin, the tile guy, asked us not to get the walls wet

for 10 days so the grout boost would cure properly.

What? No showering for ten days?

I guess we'll just admire the new showerhead

while we bathe in the tub.

Subway tile: American Olean. "Boardwalk" showerhead: Moen.

"Hotel" extra-long shower curtain liner, curtain rod, rings: Bed, Bath & Beyond.

"Boardwalk" brushed nickel fixtures: Moen.

Sorrow can be alleviated by good sleep, a bath and a glass of wine.

~~St. Thomas Aquinas

"Memoirs" toilet: Kohler.

The vintage terrazzo, circa 1970, provides seamless flooring throughout the house~~

we'll never interrupt it with tile or carpet.

And we love the automatic close on the lid of the stool!

The easy-breezy vintage jalousie window with etched glass

means no privacy curtains are necessary.

Tray, dispenser: TJMaxx. Soap dish, sponge: Pier 1. Water jar: Pottery Barn.

And check this out~

I found a place for my proppy water jar on top of the tank. :)

Martha Stewart Living "Placid" mirror: Martha Stewart. Towels and hooks: IKEA.

"Sterling Blue" paint: Sherwin-Williams. "Retrospective" pedestal sink: American Standard.

Storage cabinet, towels: IKEA

It's difficult to photograph in this 5' x 7' room,

especially with reflective surfaces playing havoc with my automatic camera...

However, smooth, shiny surfaces always dance light around the room,

making a small space an airy place.

I could have waited for daylight for better photography

but I wanted to post this before Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Walking on Water, Part I

2011-11-18T10:09:00.004-05:00

Okay, we're not seeing the water-world miracle quite yet...
furniture in the bathroom is scheduled for installation today.

A water vessel I've had for years might fit in...

The Pied Piper (our plumber) went out on emergency this morning,

leaving me alone long enough to open a can of wall color.
A pale blue I call "oxygen" will give this small room an illusion of fresh air and open space.
Yesterday, the tile man filled in the empty slot left by the removal of the old medicine chest
and the owies on the damaged walls disappeared behind his orange peel finish.

Aiming for a classic, clean and serene style.

As William Morris says,

"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful

or believe to be beautiful."

Amen.

Pardon our mess...

2011-11-10T11:13:00.001-05:00

...but we're working a few miracles here.

We're lucky...no mold behind the walls!

Repiping.
Rennovating.
Renewing.

Be back with the
Reveal
when the dust settles.

The Hour of the Soul

2011-11-02T12:02:00.002-04:00

It's 4 a.m., the hour of the soul,

the time I often return from the land of sleep

to feed my spirit with an hour or two of solitude.

It's a mystery...awakening. Is it done in a fleeting second or does it take minutes?
As I rouse from my drowse, I'm conscious of consciousness, of memory, and thoughts.

I'm aware of my body renewed by rest, the quiet of the night, and the intimacy of darkness. I thank heaven and its sparkling stars for the physical pleasures and privileges of owning a bed, something so many in this world can't enjoy. Slipping away on cat's feet, I leave my sleeping companion behind and glide away to my solitary world before reality comes up with the sun.

It's like the early morning call to worship in the chapel of an ancient abbey where scriptures are read by candlelight and hymns are sung in one-voice a capella, except this is a call to gather at Our Lady of Perpetual Blogging, Twittering, and Facebooking where words and pictures are read by the light of the computer screen. Where I go to hear a choir of voices...and to sing in response. To commune with creative spirits and offer prayers for virtual friends.

I'm not alone in my early morning romp. I have a sisterhood. Carmen, my neighbor on the left, doesn't sleep well now that Jack is gone so she roams her house in the early hours of the morning. Silhouetted in the unlit window of Jack's old room, she keeps his spirit close to her while she gazes at the moon. On the other side of my house, Barbara, another insomniac, brews coffee at 4 a.m. while she catches up on email. She says she often sees lights on at my house while she's wandering through her rooms. With a wink, she says, "We should get together for coffee as long as we're up!" But we never do.

We love our solitude, our time alone.

In virtuality.

Pausing for a moment...

2011-10-30T06:48:00.000-04:00

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

~~Basho

The Little Orange Tree That Couldn't

2011-10-23T09:04:00.002-04:00

When we first moved to Florida, I planted a little orange tree.

It was a happy little tree, growing where it was, but my neighbor advised me to move it.

The tree, he said, would grow into the electric wires overhead.

So I moved the little orange tree to the other side of the house
and waited for it to grow and bloom.
Nothing. Nada. For four years.
Surely, I'd stunted its growth by moving it.
Then one glorious day we spotted a flower, a promise of fruit.
We were going to have oranges!

When we returned from the summer in Iowa, yellow orbs hung on the little tree.
We watched them ripen. By the time they turned orange, the peels carried spots.
When opened, the fruit was wrinkled, lacking in juice, and bitter.
We decided we'd damaged the fruit by trimming the tree, feeding, or not feeding it.
Each year we picked up the fallen fruit and put it in the garbage and
decided we'd be happy with the tree as a decorative asset in our garden.

This year, we were stunned by the beauty of the tree.
It had grown substantially in our summer's absence,
its limbs now draped heavily with yellow and green fruit.

Carmen, our neighbor on the other side, commented on the new garden beauty.

I don't know what happened while you were gone, she said, but your lemon tree is gorgeous!!

Lemon tree?

Turns out, if we pick the fruit at the yellow stage,

we have marvelous lemonade, honey/lemon tea, and lemon waters.

Who knew!?

Wish you were here to pick a few!

lemon tree very pretty

and the lemon flower is sweet

but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.

~~Peter, Paul and Mary

when life gives you lemons, make lemonade

~~unknown

Lighting the Fire

2011-10-16T17:35:00.000-04:00

My bucket list has a special item on it:

OWN A HOUSE WITH A FIREPLACE

Not a fireplace lit by gas but one that burns with wood.

For now, I photograph artful stacks of firewood that promise flickering fires

and collect quotes that inspire warming my feet by the fire...

Though you live near a forest,

do not waste firewood.

~~Chinese Proverb

To poke a wood fire is more solid enjoyment

than almost anything else in the world.

~~Charles Dudley Warner

One can enjoy a wood fire worthily only

when he warms his thoughts by it as well as his hands and feet.

~~Odell Shepherd

Once upon a time threre was piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm...

~~Carlo Collodi

Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed,

one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people.

~~Garrison Keillor

White

2011-10-10T06:38:00.000-04:00

While traveling in Europe, my brother-in-law took this picture for me.
If he I lived in Nerja, Spain, he thought, this would be where I'd shop.

Photograph: Ron Letnes

Clever boy. Yes, white is my signature color. Winter or not.
We just arrived in Florida where wearing casual white always works.
Thanks, Ron, you're a day brightener. :)

Today's the Feast of St. Francis...

2011-10-04T08:01:00.000-04:00

While you are proclaiming peace with your lips,

be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.

~~St. Francis of Assisi

One of our views while walking in Assisi, Italy, 2005

St. Francis~~mystic, confessor, and founder of the Franciscans~~

is revered and honored in his hometown of Assisi, Italy.
October 4 is his name day.

An eye-opening stop for walking tourists,
Assisi will greet you with festive flags, medieval arches, and generous gelatos.

Sculpture by Johann Baptist Moroder-Lusenberg.

Painting by Jusepe de Ribera

Seeds

2011-09-25T12:11:00.001-04:00

The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.

~~Ralph Waldo Emerson

While I know how nature tends its gardens,

I grieve each fall as leaves die, colors fade away, and the earth goes silent.

Yesterday, like a bit of relief for the grief, I came upon an enchanting garden store called Seed.

The proprietor graciously said yes to my request to photograph her displays but my

camera battery died (what?) so I have little to show for it.

The store held hundreds of containers for plants, Maidenhair ferns,

fairyland settings for bird houses, antique rakes, ever greens

...and seeds.

Enticed by this container with a lucky number 8 on it, I decided that it's going to Florida with us.

There, I'll fill it with cutting herbs for my winter kitchen garden.

Happiness held is the seed; happiness shared is the flower.

~~Author unknown

Autumnal Equinox

2011-09-23T07:29:00.002-04:00

Change is in the air...

...the autumnal equinox has arrived and we're feeling the shift.

equinox: Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night),

night and day have approximately equal length.

According to John Cutrone over at Convivio Bookworks,

the autumnal equinox, in his Florida town of Lake Worth, came at 5:04 a.m. today.

"Night begins to outlast day as we welcome the autumnal equinox and the shift toward darkness that accompanies it," he says. "Our thoughts turn to pumpkins, apples, and the bounty of the season."

The monarchs, feeding on the last of the milkweed here in Des Moines, will soon fly away to Mexico.
Like them, we'll follow the light and take up residence in Florida.

We're packing, closing down our summer house...

having those last gatherings of the season with friends and family.

Happy First Day of Fall!

on the newsstand...

2011-09-15T11:09:00.021-04:00

Two years ago, I met Linda @ Lime in the Coconut.

To my delight, I was asked to art-direct photography of three rooms in her home
for Better Homes and Gardens' Kitchen + Bath Makeovers magazine.

Linda's re-design of the master bathroom was published in the Summer issue and, yesterday,
her kidlets' bathroom (pictured here) appeared in the Winter issue.
One never knows when articles finished long ago will come down the publishing pipe!

I first met Linda online...where she introduced me to her design work.
If you aren't familiar with her wonderful blog, check it out.
It's filled with humor, makeover treats, and relaxed fun.
Until I met Linda, I thought blogs were for daily journaling or news reports.
Once I opened Linda's blog, I could see the possibilities
and started my own.

Linda is the first blog friend I've met in person. Since then, I've met two more.
Three are on my list for meeting this winter in Florida.
Love this crazy little blog world.

Bishop's Hat

2011-09-09T10:35:00.003-04:00

Ordinarily, I'm not the napkin-folding type, preferring to entertain the masses buffet-style. Individually folded napkins are impractical for buffets so I usually arrange flatware and napkins on a high-top table or roll cutlery in napkins and group them in a pitcher, bucket, or vase.

However, purely for entertainment's sake, I'm practicing the Bishop's Hat napkin fold for an intimate dinner coming up in ten days. I'm not that good at it yet (my napkins aren't in PERFECT squares and the instructions in the napkin-folding book say understanding proportions are important.
So I'm adjusting the folds as I practice).

Here's how it's going so far:

Fold the napkin in half diagonally, leaving about an inch between the top two corners.

Frustrating to find that my napkin isn't perfectly square...

Fold two side corners to the top, aligning the edges.

Bring the newly created bottom corner so that its top edge sits just below the first corner.

Fold down the front edge.

I find that pressing with an iron makes folding easier.

Bend the left and right corners around to the back,

interlocking one into the other and forming a tube that will stand on its own.

One down, three to go.

I'm quite sure my guests will forgive the imperfection.

S is for Summer...

2011-08-31T11:44:00.004-04:00

...sweet sunshine and sandbars,

sunlight shifting through the trees,

and silver chardonnay...

sipping the last of the summer wine...
so sorry to see the season slip away.

The Best Things About Waking Up

2011-08-25T09:03:00.001-04:00

Cool air.
Light winds.

Quiet world.

Long walk in the dark.

Light breaking through the clouds.

Softly, the day begins.

The Fashion Show

2011-08-23T14:33:00.001-04:00

I'm guest posting at Tina Steele Lindsey's blog,

LIVING IN ART today.

The etching of Elisabeth de Valois, Queen of Spain

by Jules Ferdinand Jacquemart (French, 1837-1880)

(after) Antonio Moro (Dutch 1523-1575)

appears on the cover of the Des Moines Art Center's brochure

for their summer exhibition of The Fashion Show.

For my review of the show on Tina's blog, click HERE.

Hands to Work

2011-08-17T11:41:00.005-04:00

Years ago, a friend told me that one day I'd have to find a happy identity without that of my work. Her words rose like gray shadows over my colorful and vibrant world of fabric, furniture, and fittings. Huh? I said at the time, flinging her words out the car window as I drove away from our decorating session.

Turns out, losing my beloved-and-always-fascinating editorial work this summer is a kind of grief,
something that leaves me with hours to fill...

...empty hands, what-nows, and self-absorption.

It's not a pretty picture.

I go to lunch with lovely friends who have ideas for What Now.

Write a book, they say, teach English as a second language, volunteer for the Red Cross.

I consider staging homes for sellers and grouse around the house.about the real estate market.

I order Netflix movies, escaping to other worlds. I read books~~just one or two.

I blog, scanning the landscape with my camera in search of simple, beautiful, or uplifting things to post while absorbing the mind-bending works of creative bloggers.

Hoping for increased energy, I walk, logging miles on the pedometer my sister gave me.

I spend outdoor days with bright-eyed grandsons who outrun me.

I plan trips we can't yet afford, cook meals instead of dining out, and collect coupons.

Still, I look for the spark to re-light the fire...

materials to burn away this quiet desperation

and the longing to create beauty and order in meaningful ways.

Side-tripping down the quote lane, I find words like these:

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life

with a catcher's mitt on both hands;

you need to be able to throw something back.

~~Maya Angelou

As you grow older,

you will discover that you have two hands,

one for helping yourself,

the other for helping others.

~~Audrey Hepburn

What does love look like?

It has the hands to help others.

It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy.

It has the eyes to see misery and want.

It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men.

That's what love looks like.

~~Saint Augustine

Ah, a small spark in the dark~~

for the love thing.

Like cutting fabric into quilt blocks

and stitching them up

for Lutheran World Relief.

I still have useful hands, I'm still breathing.

Alive and healthy in this wierd and wonderful world,

I'm still free and walking about.

And, on Monday mornings, there's much laughter going on

when the Dorcas Quilting Mission

meets to do their hands-to-work, hearts-to-God thing.

I'm in.

I could use a good laugh.

Perhaps I'll find a new way...one little commitment after another.

Everything's peaceful in the kingdom...

2011-08-14T13:44:00.001-04:00

After The Wizard of Oz I was typecast as a lion,

and there aren't all that many parts for lions.

~~Bert Lahr

OK, I'm out to lunch today :)

Cathedral Lights

2011-08-07T12:20:00.008-04:00

Light, a transformative element of design, gives life, mystery, and magic to a space.

Enchantments~~for me~~include cathedral lights in all their glory.

I can't help but notice the lighting and how it affects the mood of the interior.

Ancient crystals circle the chandelier in the side chapel

of the old Spanish mission in Carmel, California. Reflecting the light from the window nearby,

the crystals dance above the lighted votives below.

Lovely crystal chandeliers line the length of the light walls of the sanctuary in this German church,

lending sparkle and elegance to the gold and white space.

A table filled with votive candles that worshippers can light themselves creates a corner

of intimacy and tenderness in the Spanish Cloisters of North Miami, Florida.

Michelangelo's genius shines in St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City

where the light of the sky comes through the windows of the dome,

connecting worshippers to heaven itself.

Along the Italian Cinque-Terre, ancient chandeliers hang in the town church of Monterosso.

In scale with the interior, its series of chandeliers gives the sanctuary the intimacy and warmth of home.

Sun shines through the leaded glass windows that open the Sheffield Cathedral

to the outside world in England.

Photo: Courtesy of my blog friend, Linda at Seven Hills.

Sir Christopher Wren lit St. Paul's Cathedral in London

with a massive dome of heaven-sent light.

At St. Stephan's Cathedral in Mainz, Germany,

Marc Chagall stained the windows behind the altar with color.

Are you still with me?

Thanks for indulging me in this little reverie...:)

Water, water...

2011-07-30T12:18:00.001-04:00

Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor;

canst not be defined,

art relished while ever mysterious.

Not necessary to life, but rather life itself,

...thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the

delight of the senses.

~~Antoine de Saint-Exupery,

Wind, Sand, and Stars, 1939

Before the sun...

2011-07-24T08:44:00.002-04:00

I said to my soul,

be still, and wait...

So the darkness shall be the light,

and the stillness the dancing.

T. S. Eliot

Indulgences

2011-07-18T06:43:00.000-04:00

Last January, after our son completed the Disney Full Marathon,

we visited Universal Studios and its newest amusement park,

Hogsmeade, the wizarding world of Harry Potter.

There, we indulged in our first mugs of BUTTERBEER

at the barrel in the street, above.

The movie finale, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2

hit town this weekend so we said goodbye to Harry with

"Harry's Butter Beer," a recipe we found in the Des Moines Register

Indulgence with a capital I.

We toned the indulgences down with calorie-cutting versions of the original~~

some alcoholic, others not:

12 ounces of diet caffeine-free cream soda

1/1/2 ounces butterscotch schnapps

or 2 tablespoons of butterscotch syrup for a non-alcholic drink.

A scoop of light butter pecan ice cream, if desired.

Time to go.

Bye, bye, Harry.

And, thank you :)

Blogtopia

2011-07-11T07:52:00.002-04:00

Blogtopia:

a place

where everything is lovely,

even if it isn't,

and everyone is charming and supportive

and has written a little poem.

A bit of truth and humor written by Mise over at
PRETTY FAR WEST.

Makes me smile every time I read it.

Does anyone know the name of these flowers?
I photographed them in a Florida tree last spring
so they're, no doubt, something tropical.

UPDATE:
JoJo says these are blooms on a HongKong orchid tree, a lovely southern Florida tree. :)
Thanks, JoJo!

Time to Reflect

2011-07-05T07:10:00.000-04:00

People travel to wonder

at the height of the mountains,

at the huge waves of the sea,

at the long course of the rivers,

at the circular motion of the stars;

and they pass by themselves

without wondering.

~~St. Augustine

This summer, I have time to wonder~~I have no work.

Most everyone involved with print has been replaced by internet editors and stylists.

I don't know what to do with myself.

Early in the morning, before the fountain turns on, I step onto our balcony

and gaze into the still, still waters of the waterway below.

It's a peaceful place to sip coffee and reflect on how to create my new day.

These words accompany me:

Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,

but anyone can start today and make a new ending.

~~Maria Robinson

Don't ask what the world needs.

Ask what makes you come alive,

and go do it.

Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

~~Howard Thurman

When working, I did what made me feel alive.

Now I wonder what else can make my heart sing...

What makes you come alive?

Words To Live By

2011-06-29T01:07:00.001-04:00

After my 60th birthday, one of the party trays now serves as my kitchen sink backsplash.

In a pinch, I can measure by metric standards

and tell the difference between salt and pepper shakers.

An antique butter crock stashes my loose cash...

... and a magnetic push-pin board (used as the range backsplash) holds everyday cooking herbs.

Not-so-everyday herbs stand like sentinels on a high shelf above the range,

awaiting the day they'll be used. Mostly, it's the handscript

on the containers that appeals to me, adding charm to my kitchen decor.

In the Company of Angels

2011-06-22T12:43:00.001-04:00

Our newest cherub with his "kiy-cat".

The lilting sounds of THE PRIESTS

soothe the mood in the room.

As I hum along with Be Still My Soul,

Landon's eyelids lower and close

and he drifts away to a peaceful place.

Heavenly.

Click HERE for a youtube video of The Priests singing Be Still My Soul.

Lisianthus & Limeade

2011-06-16T07:19:00.001-04:00

Trader Joe has eluded me for years.

Yes, I've been a TJ virgin all my life...until yesterday.

He popped up in a mall in the newest West Des Moines development

and I couldn't wait to put a shiny red shopping cart in motion.

I came out with California peaches,

the dark chocolate lover's chocolate bar,

Jasmine green tea,

lisianthus,

and Trader Joe's French Market sparkling limeade

(LOVE the labels).

Perfect for an afternoon on the balcony

overlooking the waterway below.

Have you been to Trader Joe's?

Before E-mail

2011-06-09T07:47:00.001-04:00

OK, I confess.

If you were to look under my bed, you'd find huge sheets of handmade paper.

Once upon a time (before e-mail), I designed handmade stationery, a popular trend in the 80s.

We sold our wares at the New York Stationery and Gift Show and I happily indulged in the simple processes of creating notecards for the masses to send by snail mail.

Handmade books also held enchantment for me...the folding and binding, the art of it all.

I even collected old-world pen and ink and attempted calligraphy.

It was like going back in time.

Languid and peaceful. Personal.

Then the computer arrived at my corporate desk to shake up our world of writing.

Years later, I confess that I love my computer

and its witty ways of quickly transporting words and information.

However, every now and then, I pull a few 24x36-inch sheets of deliciously textured handmade paper from the stack under my bed and cut them down with my big paper cutter. Then, with gold cord threaded through a needle, I sit in a comfortable chair and stitch together dozens of pamphlet cards.

I give them away these days...in the hope that someone will put pen to paper once again.

A handmade card that arrives in the old-fashioned mailbox is now a luxury.

And a truly beautiful gift.

Changing places...

2011-06-01T19:03:00.005-04:00

I've been a less-than-attentive blogger for the last month or so.

And I apologize for not visiting you as often as I wished.

It's because of all the changes.

First, the move from our fall/winter/spring home in Florida

to our summer place in Iowa.

We're "learning" everything all over again, getting re-acquainted with our new old place.

Finding the answers to where we keep the cereal bowls,

the shaker of lemon pepper, and the dish detergent.

It's a simple place~~short on material possessions, humble and practical.

A good thing, we note, when we see the many shifting properties

and busy schedules of our children's growing families.

Our bedroom is a sanctuary after attending ballgames, birthday parties, and family runs~~

a soft place to fall after a day or two of helping with a garage sale

meant to clear irrelevant goods from our son's house. More space is needed for their active toddler.

And then there's the big change across town~~our daughter

and her family are packing up all of their earthly possessions for a move to a larger house~~

changing schools, neighbors, living spaces, and day-to-day routines.

We're about to pitch in on the transfer of goods.

Bedside Companions

2011-05-26T10:14:00.002-04:00

On each side of our bed, hung over nightstands, our baby pictures keep each other company.

We've kept each other's company since we were 21.

A Simple Transaction

2011-05-18T09:09:00.004-04:00

Like some happy accident,

Carmen, our 84-year-old neighbor, sold our guest house for us.

No realtor or complicated bank processes necessary~~

just a little Carmen karma.

+ + +

Last August, Carmen's husband died, leaving her without transportation

(she never learned to drive).

Social services ruled that she doesn't qualify for a special transport

so that means she must walk a half-mile to catch a public bus and

carry home her own grocery bags.

She's not able to do that.

We (neighbors) pitch in to keep her going.

Maggie's son mows her lawn whenever he can stop by,
Margaret takes her to the doctor,

and I take her to the grocery store.
Anna, Anna's kids, and Amanda check on her regularly.

On one of our grocery-store jaunts,

I asked Carmen if she'd like to see my fix-and-flip house.

(In 2005, I'd fixed the house but couldn't flip it,

thanks to the real estate bubble.

Eventually, I took it off the market and turned it into
a guest house for winter tourists.)

Carmen loved the tour through the house,

taking in all the details.

+ + +

A month ago, I received a phone call from a woman
who'd heard I may be interested in selling my guest house.

She asked if she and her husband could see it.

It seemed that Carmen, during one of her Amanda chats,
learned that Amanda's parents were looking
for a home in the neighborhood.
Carmen said she knew the PERFECT house.

Amanda's parents came for a look.

They'd recently sold their home and needed to vacate in a month.

So far, they hadn't found a house they liked.

But they LOVED this one!

How much was I asking?
And could the furnishings be included?

Surprised, I said I'd like to get an appraisal before setting a price.

OK, they said.

A week later, I had my price and

two phone calls after that,

we penciled an agreement.

They would be paying with cash.

When I mentioned going to a lawyer to draw up the agreement,

they said all we needed was a title agency

with the proper form. They had one in mind.

(They'd just been through the process while selling their home.)

The next day, we met at the title agency and started the transaction.

We already owned the deed so the title search was easy.

We also had the survey paper.
Inspections were completed to satisfaction

and we met for the closing.

When all the papers were signed, I turned to the closer.
"This was a simple transaction," I said.
"Yes, it was," she said. "We've been seeing more
'real' buyers and sellers like you these days.
No more short sales, foreclosures, and sobbing, disappointed people."

+ + +

Because Carmen saved me a realtor's commission,
I arranged for my lawn maintenance company to cut her grass
while we're away for the summer.
Maggie's son is happy about that.
And I, owner of much less property, walk the earth more lightly.

Downton Abbey

2011-05-06T15:09:00.007-04:00

Just say the word, "abbey," and I'm all ears.
Images of medieval courtyards, cloisters, groined ceilings,
and candlelight flow to my brain.
So, naturally, when "Downton Abbey" turned up
on the programming for Masterpiece Classic, I settled in for a look-see.
+++
OK, it wasn't MY idea of life in an ancient abbey.

Highclere Castle, front facade. Filming site for 2011's successful PBS drama, Downton Abbey. image: Wikipedia

And what's so abbey-esque about the setting?

Turns out, the present English country house

stands on the foundations of an earlier house~~

the medieval palace of the Bishops of Winchester who owned the estate from the 8th century.

In 1679, it became home to the Carnarvon family.

By 1692, the dwelling was rennovated into a classical Georgian mansion.

In 1839, it was remodeled in the "High Elizabethan" style,

faced with Bath stone,

and named Highclere Castle.

Today, you can visit the in-residence castle...it's open on certain dates.
Or go there, virtually, by clicking on the link above.
Close to the castle is the Monk's Garden, named so because monks once grew fruit trees and vegetables there. Today it's a walled garden with roses, quinces, figs and lavender.
Nearby are glass houses of tea roses.
+++
Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the fictional PBS series
about Edwardian life in the "abbey"/country house.
Again.
I ordered it from Netflix.

Maggie Smith plays Violet Crawley, the Dowager Countess of Grantham

Migration

2011-04-29T18:27:00.000-04:00

Like Monarch butterflies, we return north for the summer.

Come fall, we migrate south.

Westminster Abbey Watch

2011-04-24T16:14:00.000-04:00

image source: wikipedia

I'm polishing the silver,

pressing the table linens,

and shopping for English teas, lemon curd, and red currant jelly.

It's too much fun to ignore~~

we could use a little royalty and romance around here.

A few of our fun-loving friends are coming

for an early-morning wedding watch,

compliments of NBC's TODAY royal wedding coverage.

We'll celebrate with a champagne breakfast.

Something proper.

English, you know.

The Royal Wedding Breakfast Menu is my guide in the kitchen.

While baking "tea cakes" for the
Three Tiered (mine has just two tiers) Scone Stand,
I'm taking a few liberties...

The Tuxford Cheddar and Spring Scallion Savory Scones
will be made with crumbled feta cheese and green spring onions
and cherry Craisins will stand in for currants in the
Traditional Currant Tea Scones.
I'll toast purchased English muffins and pass them off as
Warm Toasted Crumpets with Bitter Orange
(please pass the low-sugar Smucker's Sweet Orange Marmalade)
and substitute Sweetbay's bakery-made hot cross buns for
Fig And Sour Cherry Hot Cross Muffins.

In planning for the day,
I've added to my English vocabulary:

quire: choir
+
crumpets: curled up cake; small round unsweetened bread cooked on a griddle
and usually split and toasted before serving...
sounds like English muffins to me
+
bangers: link sausages are named for their predilection
toward bursting or "banging" open under hot temps.
To avoid losing some sausage, links are boiled first,
then sliced lengthwise before frying or grilling.
+
rasher: a thin slice or a portion of thin-sliced bacon/ham that's broiled or fried

It's been said that the ten Bells of the Abbey will chime for three hours

following the wedding~~

a full peal of 5,000 changes or sequences, none repeated.

Happy sounds on a happy day!

View of the magnificent box seat for their Majesties in Westminster Abbey

under the direction of M. James Wyatt, at the Commemoration of Handel.

Published by J. Sewell in June of 1784

web source: wikipedia gallery

Our best wishes go out to William and Kate.
May your love be everlasting.
Cheers from across the pond!!!

Easter 2011

2011-04-22T11:56:00.001-04:00

All you works of God, bless the Lord!

photograph from our tour of Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica near Rome

Hills and mountains, now sing his worth,
all you green things that grow on earth:
seas and rivers, you springs and wells,
beasts and cattle, you birds and whales.
Refrain Raise your voices high, praise and magnify,
all your works of God, bless the Lord!

Come, humanity, sing along,
sing, you people of God, a song:
priests and servants, your Lord now bless,
join, you spirits and souls at rest.
Refrain Raise your voices high, praise and magnify,
all your works of God, bless the Lord!

Text: Stephen P. Starke
Music: LINSTEAD, Jamaican folk song, adapt. Doreen Potter

Moonstruck

2011-04-18T05:40:00.007-04:00

Long ago and far away,

Harold Moon was my first love.

We were in second grade when he gave me a large, hollow chocolate heart

in a lidded cardboard box shaped like the candy heart inside

(you know the kind).

I was over the moon when I boarded the school bus that afternoon

and was taken aback when the bullies on the bus grabbed my Valentine box.

Although they broke my heart when they

cracked open the chocolate heart and ate it,

I still own the sweet memory of Harold's love for me.

Now and then, I think of Harold as I follow the moon.

I watch for Luna, walk with her, talk to her, ask her where she went~~

and I treasure my copy of Goodnight, Moon.

I try to take her picture but have little luck.

Luna is my walking companon in early morning hours~~

the anchor for ritual and reverie.

I post about her on my walking blog.

As a Lunatic, I just might qualify as moonstruck.

moon-struck adj (1674): affected by or as if by the moon: as a : mentally unbalanced b : romantically sentimental c : lost in fantasy or reverie

+ + +

I'm a keeper of ancient names for each full moon.

In early North America, the Algonquin peoples

named the moon for each month

as a way to track the seasons.

January~Wolf Moon; February~Snow Moon; March~Worm Moon;

May~Flower Moon; June~Strawberry Moon;

July~Buck Moon; August~Sturgeon Moon; September~Harvest Moon;

October~Hunter's Moon; November~Beaver Moon; December~Cold Moon.

April's moon was (and still is) known as the Pink Moon~~

for the herb pink moss or wild ground phlox, the earliest widespread flower of spring.

Phlox-divaricata

Sometimes they called April's moon the Sprouting Grass Moon or Egg Moon,

in honor of other first signs of spring.

In seacoast areas, tribes called it the Fish Moon,

after the shad that swam upstream to spawn.

I just call the moon, Luna.

Luna over Venice

Good night, Luna.

linking to Being Ruby

where Julie's throwing a 'To The Moon, Alice' party!

Solitude

2011-04-13T09:57:00.000-04:00

There are days when solitude is a heady wine

that intoxicates you with freedom,

others when it is a bitter tonic,

and still others when it is a poison that

makes you beat your head against the wall.

~~Collette

Language...has created the word
loneliness
to express the pain of being alone.
And it has created the word
solitude
to express the glory of being alone.
~~Paul Tillich

House Tour

2011-04-08T09:31:00.013-04:00

Mise (pronounced mee-sha) at Pretty Far West
and Julie at Being Ruby
asked to see more of our Florida cottage.
I'm happy to oblige...as we will soon leave it behind
and I'll miss its pistachio and plumbago hues.
It's nearly time to go Iowa for the summer
where our apartment's colors
are more field and farm~~
milk and cream, black and white, bittersweet and cranberry.

We have terrazzo floors throughout...cool to the feet and ever so retro :)

The green leather chair is a recliner. :)

This is "Cedric," our double chaise. So comfortable!

These bi-folds keep the water heater and garbage bin hidden

in the laundry room.

high-top breakfast table

We use the lanai as a dining room...the garden beyond for ambience.

guest bedroom...

linked to DebbieDoo's Newbie Party
and Andy's Poppies At Play House Party

The simplest things...

2011-04-04T14:40:00.002-04:00

...are sure to please me.

...like awakening, surrounded by soft morning light and a color that breathes oxygen.

...like watching this spiral sculpture spin slowly in the breeze.

...opening windows.

...like lying in bed, listening to mourning doves whirring on the window ledges outdoors.

Resting my eyes on the Mark Rothko print

I bought at the Guggenheim but left in the yellow cab.

Remembering the friend who retrieved it for me.

...like wandering into the garden and discovering fuchsia blooms among lime greens,

a miracle after a freezing winter destroyed our Christmas Tree palms.

...like backyard blooms decorating a dinner for four.

Afternoon light streaming across the table.

'Tis a gift to be simple,

'tis a gift to be free.

~~Shaker hymn

Walking on Water

2011-03-29T09:39:00.001-04:00

People usually consider walking on water

or thin ice a miracle.

But I think the real miracle is not to walk

either on water or thin ice,

But to walk on earth.

Every day we are engaged in a miracle

which we don't recognize:

a blue sky,

white clouds,

green leaves,

the black, curious eyes of a child~~

our own eyes.

All is a miracle.

~~Thich Nhat Hanh (Vietnamese monk)

A is for Awards (Part 2)

2011-03-24T22:32:00.002-04:00

I like Jeanne's Blog Love Award for its simplicity.

When you receive it, you can pass it on to others or choose to merely enjoy receiving it.

I'm passing the Blog Love Award on to a bakers' dozen of faithful friends
who make my days bright with creativity, originality, and warmth.

Susan at Just A Moment

Rosaria at Sixty-five What Now

Susan at Mermaid Gallery Nelson

ELK at Red or Gray

Jeanne at Daily Reflections from Atwater Pond

Beth at B. Meandering

Rhonda at Shellbelle's Tiki Hut

mimi at Vanilla Haven

Stacey at Dawning Inspiration

Louise at Meditations of my Heart

Rune at Visual Norway

Lelie at Let A Joy Keep You

Thank you, Jeanne, for honoring me with this beautiful Award :)

A is for Awards (Part I)

2011-03-24T18:52:00.003-04:00

Occasionally, blog Awards appear in the 'hood.
Two arrived here the other day
from Glenda at Gg - notes on the journey, a lovely friend from Chicago.
Thanks, Glenda...so happy to be Acknowledged!

The Bloggers-That-Make-Me-Happy Award
asks that I list and pass on the Award to a few of my faves.

Linda, my erudite friend from Seven Hills, takes me through her English and Italian countrysides
(she has a home in each one), where her local views illustrate the very books
she reads and reviews on her blog.
Fascinating~~to follow her down the winding road~~sometimes
we step quietly into abbeys and cathedrals she knows,
other visits reveal villages, busy markets, and bucolic hills.

Julie at Being Ruby exudes a super-fun, kind, and generous vibe with every post.
This Aussie's magic touch forms words into fanciful stories
and photographs into masterful paintings.

Dagmar at Barefoot from Heaven is a charmer from the Netherlands.
This bright and breezy ephemeral photographer always gives me a lift
with her stream-of-consciousness prose
that accompanies each new-and-wonderful picture.

Linda at Lime in the Coconut always comes up with a lighthearted attitude
and a touch of humor for her hundreds of followers.
She photographs "befores" of her beach-style decorating projects
and chats with us as she works through to the "afters."
Lucky for me, I got a magazine assignment at her home
where we photographed her kitchen and two bathroom makeovers...
I'm hoping to see them in
Better Homes & Gardens' KITCHEN & BATH MAKEOVERS this spring.

mise at Pretty Far West reveals her hilarious wit on her lifestyle blog.
She never fails to make me smile and say, "I wish I'd thought of that!"

Thanks again, Glenda, for befriending me...I treasure your friendship
and always enjoy your blog entries...I'm passing on the Bloggers That Make Me Happy Award.

Next up is the Versatile Blogger Award
asking me to tell 7 things no one knows about me.
That'll be another post.

Also Jeanne's Blog Love came my way today and I'll be happily passing that along soon.
Stay tuned :)

Glimpses and Fragments

2011-03-18T03:54:00.006-04:00

The people of St. Augustine are gearing up for 2013, the year that marks

the 500th anniversary

of Ponce de Leon's 1513 landing on their shores.

Following Columbus' discovery of the New World

that reached the Bahamas, Cuba, and Hispaniola in 1492-93,

de Leon explored the coast near St. Augustine,
naming this newly discovered land "La Florida."

On September 8, 1565, with banners flying, trumpets sounding, artillery booming,

and 600 soldiers and settlers cheering, Pedro Menendez, of Spain, set foot on Florida's shore.
In honor of the Saint whose feast day it was when he first sighted land,
Menendez named the town they founded "St. Augustine."

St. Augustine of Hippo, 354-430 A. D. of the Roman Africa Province

~~figure from Potter's Wax Museum on King Street, St. Augustine, FL

As I stepped onto the cobblestone streets of our nation's oldest city,

I hoped to uncover ancient remnants, textures, and links to history.

The old town didn't disappoint.

In spite of its multi-colored, many-layered venues for every kind of tourist,

I was able to assemble a little tapestry of pictures to satisfy my penchant for the 16th century.

A water vessel at the Oldest House Museum...

...coquina walls and tabby floors in the Gonzalez-Alvarez home at 14 St. Francis Street.

The Spanish crest on the town's centerpiece, Castillo de San Marcos.

In 1668, English pirates sacked St. Augustine, but failed to capture the wooden fort.

In 1669 Queen Regent Mariana of Spain ordered the construction of a stone fort in St. Augustine.

The Castillo de San Marcos was built of coquina, a limestone conglomerate of shellstone

quarried on nearby Anastasia Island.

Chapel seating at the stone fort...

...prayer candles at the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Augustine, founded in September of 1565...

...ancient construction and graffiti.

I walked Aviles Street, the oldest avenue and art district, stopping at

La Herencia for delicious plantain soup and empanadas...

...browsed through scrolls, inks, and herrero arts...

...chatted with de hita in a two-room house...

...sipped wine at the Taberna del Gallo in the Colonial Spanish Quarter,

...and tasted new vintages from San Sebastian vineyards.

...a tiny sampling of the massive menu

St. Augustine and its inhabitants offer its visitors.

Thanks to the Old Town Trolley,

we enjoyed easy parking and transportation

along the narrow streets of this truly historic town.

Blood and Stones

2011-03-16T18:18:00.000-04:00

The road to the top of Grandfather Mountain spirals like a reed in a laurel wreath. Curve by curve, it rises upward, wrapping and bending back on itself until it reaches Swinging Bridge at the summit.

Walking over the deep ravine on Grandfather's bridge is a mountaintop experience, indeed,
the vista blue with the air of the Smokies,
the wind strong against my body on the high-wire walkway.

Awe-inspiring.

But I've worn out my ooh-ing and awe-ing already, just taking the drive to the sky.
The side of the mountain called me to stop at every pull-out,
to take its pictures and gaze at mossy wonders, rushing water falls,
and venerable trees rooted near spring-fed streams.

I'm drawn to the waters madly dashing over the rust-stained rocks,
aged stones that will never come clean from the washing~~
just layered with another mineral patina, a veneer of algae~~
and graffiti.

On ordinary days, I shrink from graffiti and all it discolors. But today, the paint-sprayed names, scrawled across the faces of ancient rocks, convey a different message.
Softened by wind and water, they carry the power of stone-age writings and ritual cave paintings.

"I was here," each name implies.

"I was here in this beautiful place.

Please know that I was here."

How human~~graffiti writers.
In the immensity of the ages, they, like we, long to be remembered,
to mark the world so their lives hold meaning after they disappear over the mountain.
The names speak as links in the human chain, faded flowers on the wreath,
fleeting seconds in the hoop of time.

I return from the mountain, haunted by the names.
And the waters descending to the river,

the circles of the seasons, the rounds of the moon,

and the roll of the river as it flows to the sea.

Participating in Imperfect Prose on Thursdays

Slipping Away for a Bit

2011-03-04T02:32:00.000-05:00

We're about to explore the "Ancient City," our nation's oldest town.
Laid out in the 16th century by the mighty Spanish empire,
St. Augustine promises history lessons
and the pleasures of walking about on cobblestone streets.

Restaurant wall mural, Placencia, Belize...has nothing to do with St. Augustine except for its Spanish flavor...

See you in a couple weeks.

Power and Majesty

2011-02-25T17:28:00.003-05:00

Water its living strength first shows,

When obstacles its course oppose.

~~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

from our tour through the mountains of Norway

The world turns softly

Not to spill its lakes and rivers,

The water is held in its arms

And the sky is held in the water.

What is water,

That pours silver,

And can hold the sky?

~~Hilda Conkling

Gratitude, A Remembrance

2011-02-23T14:28:00.001-05:00

Linking to Imperfect Prose on Thursdays where Emily says we can submit old or new writings~~
this happens to be something old but a memory I like to recall now and then.

+ + +

I rise in the early morning quiet to dress for school.

Then, turning out the lights, I wait in the dark for the bus to come.

Behind me, I hear the sound of her steps on the stairs.

"Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes."

"Do you have everything you need?"

Her arms hold me close and her kiss brushes my cheek.

The bus comes in the distance, its headlights bobbing over the bumps on the washboard road~~

the sight of the lights past Hochstetter's house are my signal.

If I run fast enough, I can meet the bus as Shorty opens the doors, leap the steps,

and catch my seat before the doors slap shut behind me.

"Run! And have a good day!"

I run, the wind at my back.

The warmth of the house and my mother's tenderness

blow me like a kiss down the long, dark lane.

Yes, I have everything I need.

+ + +

Dogs in Paradise

2011-02-17T06:25:00.004-05:00

The lucky dogs around Venice, Florida have their own beach.

Just south of Sharky's on the Pier,

Paw Park welcomes four-footed pals for water play.

So come on in,

the water's fine!

Dog showers provided before getting back in the car :)

We're In the Pink

2011-02-14T04:29:00.017-05:00

Sometimes we go off in different directions...

...and sometimes we get in each others' faces...

...but mostly we live in harmony.

Happy St. Valentine's Day!!!

Simplify, Simplify

2011-02-09T15:18:00.006-05:00

Every day the word, "simplify," repeats like a chant in my head.

Mom--who loved freeing our homes of previous owners' busy wallcoverings,

painting a single color throughout the house,

and replacing Victorian chandeliers with modern lighting--

is responsible.

Isn't it odd, then, that I chose a career in art and design
when Mom clearly trained me in the art of undecorating?
Even now, when I visit her,

she asks me to put away the extra things
and remove the dried-up flowers
to "pretty up" the place.

+ + +

I'm ambivalent about owning things.
The objects I admire most are newly-invented and streamlined--
sleek and modern furniture, lamps, the art of Matisse, Motherwell, and Martin.
At the same time, I find pleasure in the sensuous detail of Rubens, Michelangelo, and Renoir.
I adore Scandinavian interiors, ancient 12th-century abbeys, and storied cathedrals.

My photo stylist work puts me in touch with marvelous material goods.
Lovely furnishings slip through my fingers like sand through a sieve.
I create with a wealth of things--but only for the moment.
Once the photographer clicks the pictures, I "crack the set," move on to the next one and
the beautiful things disappear into corporate archives or are sold at prop sales.
Little of it comes home to complicate my life.

To my eye, there's nothing more beautiful than an empty stretch of countertop awaiting a new recipe.
A side table free of clutter, ready to host a visitor or provide chairside comfort.
A bookcase with room to grow more reads.
It's peaceful. Relaxed. Open to the future.
And I can pretend I'm leaving a small footprint on the earth.

Still, things accumulate.
Books, tools, gifts, electronics, clothing, dishes, the accoutrements for living.
What's a minimalist to do?

A friend in Seattle has minimalism down to a science
Her rule is simple:
When something new comes into the house, something old has to go.
Would that I could manage so well (and she really does)...

And so I beat on, a little boat against the current of consumerism...
Simplify.
Simplify.
Sort.
Recycle.
Donate.
Sell.

My rule is simple:
I don't want a dumpster clearing out my house after I leave this earth. :)

Simple & Sweet Treats

2011-02-05T16:17:00.002-05:00

I bumped into these enticing little bits at a Monday morning coffee hour.
When I heard how they were made,
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home and picked up three items:

+ mini-pretzels
+ Rolos (chewy caramels in milk chocolate)
+ half-pecans
.
In ten minutes or so,
I'd made a batch for Valentine's Day.
Simple me!!!

If you like such simplicity (instant gratification), here's how to make them:

Pre-heat oven to 250 degrees.

On a non-stick cookie sheet, arrange pretzels in rows.

Top each pretzel with a Rolo.

Place the cookie sheet in the oven for about 10 minutes or until the Rolos begin to soften.

Remove from the oven and press a half-pecan into each chocolate.

Allow to cool.

Because they are slightly sticky,

I wrapped each treat in aluminum foil (like Hershey's kisses)

before packing them in boxes to send away to loved ones.

+ + +

WORDS TO LIVE BY: A Calendar of Days

2011-02-01T03:56:00.004-05:00

On the first day of every month, I receive Convivio Bookworks' e-newsletter.

It usually includes a fun little (often quirky) Lake Worth tale, an update on John and Seth's
handmade letter-press books, and a note about their classes
at the Jaffe Center for Book Arts (Florida Atlantic University Libraries).

Best of all, the dispatch signals a new month's Convivio Book of Days,
a calendar of holidays that John posts on their website.
When I click on "current edition," I see the new list of holidays
illuminated by John's photos and a bit of his gentle philosophy.
Ideas for celebrating begin circling in my head...
+ + +

It's a modern version of the ancient Book of Hours!

Calendar page from the Hours of Catherine of Cleves for June 1-15, c. 1440

Source: Wikipedia

The original book of hours, written in Latin and illuminated by monks in monasteries,
began as a Psalter containing recitations required for monks and nuns.
By the 12th century, the Psalter became a breviary of psalms, hymns, and readings.

Eventually, monks produced a selection of texts in short volumes called a Book of Hours.
For a pretty penny, abbeys sold the lavishly illustrated books
to royalty and privileged upper-class women.

With the invention of Johannes Gutenberg's movable type printing press,
15th century books of hours were mass-produced and made affordable to the masses.

The Hours of Catherine of Cleves opens with an illumination of Catherine kneeling before the Virgin and Child, surrounded by her family heraldry.

Book of Hours of Jeanne d'Evreux,
Source: Wikipedia
+ + +
Thanks to e-publishing and the grace of writer, John Cutrone,
my book of hours (Convivio Book of Days) is free!
And just one or two convenient clicks away.

It's the first day of February and time to turn the page...
Click HERE to see what February's days are all about!

A Breath of Heaven

2011-01-28T13:30:00.000-05:00

And Winter

Slumbering in the open air

Wears on its smiling face

A dream of Spring.

Anonymous

Drifting...

2011-01-23T20:24:00.004-05:00

Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its depth of peace

like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.

Rabindranath Tagore

from our tour of the fjords in Western Norway

Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted.

Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.

+ Hans Margolius

+ + +

There is in all things an inexhaustible sweetness and purity,

a silence that is a fountain of action and joy.

It rises up in wordless gentleness and flows out to me

from unseen roots of all created being.

Thomas Merton

Winter Whites

2011-01-20T13:37:00.002-05:00

Yippee! It's clean-slate time!
A new year begins with white sale month and

a desire for starting fresh, tossing out the old, gray, and frayed

and bringing on the snowy white, pure, and clean...
I'm a sucker for it every year.

I've torn apart my linen closets
and indulged in a sensuous tumble of textures...
new towels, sheets, duvets, duvet covers, and rugs.
While I'm reorganizing, redesigning, and recycling,
Mr. Softie's in the garage sorting through his tools.
It's a good thing--Martha would be proud.

We've explored sleeping in beds with European duvets for years...

and like it better than blankets and quilts.

While in Bergen, Norway,

we slept on a bed fitted with TWO duvets, one for each sleeper.

It was the most divine rest I've ever had...

my sleeping partner couldn't steal the covers.

I planned to try it at home.

So here I go--tossing out the old king-size duvet

and going for a couple twin-size duvets and covers.

Choosing a duvet

The ideal duvet, a down- or feather-filled comforter, measures at least 18 inches wider than the bed and provides lightweight, self-adjusting warmth. When buying a duvet, note the fill power (number of cubic inches an ounce of down occupies). The higher the fill power (300 to 700) the more ability the comforter has to trap air and provide greater warmth. Also, note the quality of the fill.The best natural filling is white goose or duck down. A label reading "down and feather" indicates a lesser filling--feathers mixed with a larger amount of down. A "feathers and down" label means more feathers than down.

Thread count of the cover fabric determines how well the fill is contained. A higher thread count and tight stitching keeps the cover from leaking feathers or down. Choose from tight or loose cover construction. Baffle covers contain the fill in tightly walled squares, keeping the loft high and balanced. Channel construction or ring stitching allows you to shift the duvet contents and vary the concentration of warmth. While not as warm or natural, non-allergenic down alternatives are available. Synthetic, wool and cotton downs weigh more, but have the advantage of washability.
Silk-filled comforters are more expensive, warm and lightweight.

I love the simplicity of making the bed with a duvet.
A duvet can be used without a cover, but a cover protects it from body oils.
Usually made from sheetlike fabric, the duvet cover is washable
and replaces the top sheet and bedspread. The mattress pad is covered with a fitted sheet.
To re-make the bed, I just plump up the pillows,
fluff the duvet in the air and lay it loosely over the bed.
Now I'll fold each twin duvet and lay it across the bed as the Norwegians in Bergen do.

So.....
what's your sleep or bedmaking style?
I'd really love to know!

Confession

2011-01-16T17:55:00.004-05:00

For a few days each year, I abandon my plain-and simple life for Disney worldly pleasures.

It's when we become part of the.Adam Jerdee CHEAR Squad (EAR as in Mickey Mouse ears).

Adam (our son) is hooked on Walt Disney World's Marathon Weekend that happens in early January.

This year he ran his third full marathon and introduced his firstborn

to the values of health and fitness and a special pursuit of happiness.

Eight-month-old Landon was not impressed.

Accustomed to a sublimely quiet life at home,

he was stunned and frightened by the noisy crowd and loud chearing.

At our mid-race meet-up point with Adam, we took memento pictures and retreated to the warmth of the Chear Squad tent. There Landon could play in relative quiet while we ate a CHEAR SQUAD breakfast and Adam continued his five-hour run.

Here's how the day goes: We all get up at 3:30 a.m., dress and meet the 4 a.m. runners' bus that takes us to the Epcot start point where 19,000 runners and their supporters gather.

At 5:30 a.m., the race begins. Supporters wish their runners the best and go off to whatever point they wish to watch the race. It's odd to be up in Disney World in the dark, moving about the parks, our Chear Squad bracelets allowing us free entry to wherever we plan to sit or stand.

We use the monorail to go to Main Street in Magic Kingdom for our mid-point meet-up where Adam will pause, let us know how the race is going, and take a few pictures. After that we have an hour or two before he'll cross the finish line...it takes him 5 hours to run 26.2 miles.

When we find him again (wearing his heavy medal), we take the bus back to our hotel

and rest easy for the remains of the day.

+ + +

I'm in awe of our son who accomplishes this run and has the good sense not to worry about the amount of time it takes. Instead, he finds pleasure in the running itself and

takes time to photograph the sights along the way.

Adam rewards us with a couple days of entertainment in the parks.

This year we visited Animal Kingdom so Landon could meet up with a few friendly and fuzzy characters.

No crying here!!

A little photo op with Dad

At the end of the Animal Kingdom day, we took a Safari around a large acreage

where we could look at animals in natural habitats...just a couple shots here...

On the third day, we were off to Universal Studios' park. Adam and Kim ride roller coasters

while Grandpa Al and I have coffee or lunch with Landon. :)

We stroll from Dr. Seuss Landing to The Sunday Funnies and back again to Dr. Seuss.

Landon can relate!

Part of the day was spent at Harry Potterville...we lunched in a Harry Potter dining hall while Kim and Adam did the big Harry roller coaster and a few other things. So medieval...yet so modern!

We've driven Kim, Adam, and Landon to the airport.

We're home again, back to the plain and simple, but filled with happy memories.

And get this:

Kim and I made a new vow (well, pact)

We're doing Walt Disney's Family Fun Run (5K) in 2012!

Stay tuned...

+ + +

How can anything so worldly feel so divine!

Alice in Wonderland

2011-01-14T11:20:00.000-05:00

I've slipped down the rabbit hole...

...just for a bit...

...be back in a couple days to explain :)

Bread of Life

2011-01-02T17:40:00.001-05:00

There are people in the world so hungry

that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.

Mahatma Gandhi

If thou tastest a crust of bread,

thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.

Robert Browning

Hello, 2011!

2010-12-31T04:34:00.000-05:00

To you, my blogging friends, I lift a glass...

to thank you for a year of visual and verbal thrills.

+ + +

May you always...

make the right moves,

find shelter from the storm,

remain good looking and looking good,

find the perfect diet for body and soul,

find perfect balance in the company you keep,

and have buckets of fun!

See you next year!!!

How to Open a Pomegranate

2010-12-25T05:59:00.001-05:00

I've always loved pomegranates as decorative items in Christmas vignettes

but never knew what to do with them as food. Now I do!

Blake (and a helpful little grocery-store pamphlet) showed me how:

........

With a sharp knife, cut away the top about a half inch from the crown.

You'll see sections separated by a white membrane.

Score the sections along the membrane and separate them.

Over a bowl of water, loosen the "arils" (red fleshy seeds) and drop them into the bowl.

The arils sink to the bottom and the white membrane floats to the top.

Scoop away the white pieces with a spoon.

Strain and and place the arils in a dish.

Try a spoonful.

Enjoy them as a super healthy snack.

Or get creative and add them to salads, appetizers, entrees, and desserts.

They're loaded with antioxidants, Vitamin C and K.

The Nativity of Our Lord

2010-12-23T18:09:00.001-05:00

And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

painting by Meister von Hohenfurth, ca. 1350

painting by Georges de La Tour, ca. 1644

il presepio, Charterhouse of Trisulti, Italia, 2010

Linda at Seven Hills sent me her photograph of the Italian cave crib located in the monastery complex near her home. Check out her post for the complete story.

BUON NATALE

The Heart in Waiting...

2010-12-20T18:29:00.002-05:00

...as Christmas draws close, I think of you, dear blogging friends, and

thank you... for so generously sharing your days, your thoughts, and your hearts...

and for leaving a lovely wake of kind and witty comments.

May your holidays be bright with light and love.

Canapes, Abbey Style

2010-12-16T06:27:00.003-05:00

My new cooking mentor is a Benedictine monk

who teaches me from the pages of his book, The Pure Joy of Monastery Cooking.

Last year, I followed the recipes in Brother Victor-Antoine's 12 Months of Monastery Soup book.

Now I'm into his vegetable side dishes and appetizers--just in time for the holidays.

It's all about using ingredients fresh from a seasonal garden,

slicing bread that comes in round forms,

and keeping kitchen tools simple.
+ + +
His Asparagus Canapes recipe calls for whole wheat bread but I substituted with an artisan bread--a small, round loaf of multi-grain boule for its rustic texture, look, and taste.

It's pure joy in the making--simple, easy, and quick:

Parsley buttered bread slices topped with tenderly cooked asparagus spears and grated Gruyere, laid on a buttered cookie sheet, and heated in a 250-degree oven.

Made in minutes...

Tasty and satisfying!

For a book of your own, click on the cover image on my sidebar.

A French Carol for Advent

2010-12-11T20:00:00.000-05:00

People , look east. The time is near of the crowning of the year.

Make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table.

People, look east, and sing today--Love, the Guest, is on the way.

Angels announce with shouts of mirth him who brings new life to earth.

Set ev'ry peak and valley humming with the word, the Lord is coming.

People, look east, and sing today--Love, the Lord, is on the way.

Text: Eleanor Farjeon, 1881-1965

Split-Personality Decorating

2010-12-06T18:02:00.000-05:00

I'm torn between two decorating worlds--
one that practices simplicity and minimalism
and the other a stylist's world requiring many objects of affection.

Blogging presented me with a similar conflict.
Do I go with the ancient/modern aesthetic I like so much
or go with the flow of the beach while living in Florida?
I resolved it with two blogs, one for each of me...

When it comes to Christmas decorating, the style question pops up every year...
do I go simple, pure, and worshipful
or Florida quaint and quirky?

The solution? A house we acquired during the fix-and-flip era...
one we can't sell, thanks to the real estate fiasco. It's now a seasonal rental for Canadians
January- March and a guest house for family during the holidays.
This year, I'm rolling with a Florida beach attittude over there.

At our house, I'll keep the faith with simplicity--

white candles and Narcissus only--but a goodly number of them.

What's your Christmas decorating style?
I'd really love to know :)

Walking in the Dark

2010-11-29T20:44:00.064-05:00

My body (and house of my spirit) has a mind of its own.
Like clockwork, it rouses me from sleep at 5 a.m. every day.
It wants to walk in the dark.

Somewhere between sleep and awakening, I argue the reasons for staying abed--the warmth of the blankets, soft comforts of the mattress, the scent of the sweet one sleeping next to me...wouldn't you
rather (I say to my other self) loll around in the sheets anticipating the day and dreaming a little longer?
I rarely win.
By 5:30, my legs carry me out the door
and into the wonders of the night.

The splendid solitude of the dark comes with quiet companions.
The moon, for one, lends mystery and magic to aerobics and the art of night strolling. Waxing or waning, occasionally disappearing behind a mist of clouds or disappearing altogether, it can be counted on for a friendly crescent smile, a full-blown circle of light, or a moonbeam kiss for keeping it company.
For another, my long black shadow, defined by streetlights, leads me down the very center of the shell-crush, traffic-free street--a death-defying feat if done by day. The cats who live on the corner of Orange Street and San Marco sit stoically on their paver driveway as I pass by--except for the black one whose padded feet always scurry across my path.

Lanterns of all sorts light the way. Lightposts, security lights, and streetlights prevent stumbling and, as Christmas draws near, more houses wear garlands of light that wink and glitter from rooftops. Single LED candles greet travelers from Amanda's windows and, although it's the first of December and she's hung a wreath on the door, two jack-o-lanterns still wickedly grin from Margaret's walkway. Year round, the elusive glow of television coming from houses of resident night owls always mark my route.

The silent night composes a quirky nocturnal song.
It's done with the whispers of sprinklers furtively watering lawns against water-use rules, the sloshing of wet clothes in the washing machine parked in old Mr. Soderholm's carport, and the 6 o'clock chime of the hallway clock at 525 Glen Oak Road. On Larchwood, monk parakeets chatter and squabble from their nest in a Canary Island palm and, once a week, a myterious moving vehicle creates rhythmic slaps on the concrete with rolled-up newspapers tossed from its window.

+ + +

Walking in the dark requires no sunscreen, the gulf-coast air moisturizing my skin.
Breathing in and breathing out, my pace slows after three miles.
My body's feeling fine, my spirit lifted up.
As I turn a corner near the lake district, an elusive potpourri drifts by--
is that sea salt, fireplace smoke, and jasmine blooming on the vine?
It must be the magic hour--just before the sun slips over the edge of the earth.
A new day is about to happen.

As I turn toward home, school children, talking on cell phones and waiting for the bus,
huddle together at the corner of Bal Harbour and Jacaranda.
Four doors from my house, the man with three kids, a carpet-cleaning truck and
five bicycles runs on the treadmill in his opened garage.
A dog walker, plastic bag in hand, emerges with the family hound and,
next door, Carmen's kitchen light is on.
Everything's as it should be.

Mr. Softie's up--
the smell of coffee greets me as I step inside my door.
6:30 and all's well with the world.

Like Water for Sharing

2010-11-26T07:32:00.002-05:00

Village fountain high in the Swiss Alps. Murren, Switzerland.

Water is the only drink for a wise man.

-Henry David Thoreau

Water, taken in moderation, cannot hurt anybody.

- Mark Twain

I never drink water. I'm afraid it will be habit-forming.

- W. C. Fields

Reverie

2010-11-17T17:31:00.008-05:00

A wondrous kind of quiet comes with feathery layers of new snow and goose down.

Falling softly in fat, hypnotizing flakes, the season's first blanket of snow settles lightly over the landscape without interruption, covering earth's dark and dusty leaf layer with a white and airy comforter.

Concrete streets and sidewalks, still hoarding heat from the summer sun, melt the snowfall on their surfaces, leaving manicured patches of white lawn and field between them.

Photograph: Brother Stan

Deck chairs and golf carts, not yet returned to winter storage, gather layers of snowflakes on their backs and bottoms, inviting wonderland sitting with softly contoured snow pads and pillows.

In a few hours, the snow muffles the sounds of the expressway nearby, and,

under the snow, garden flowers and bare buds snuggle into winter's white dress.

By evening, down comforters come out of storage for winter cocoons.
Little is needed for a good winter's nap--a sack of white feathers, a pillow, and a fitted sheet.

If ultimate luxury is the heart's desire, a feather bed laid over the mattress lures a sleeper

into a naturally plumped-up nest.

+ + +

Ah, sweet night and down under.
Count the layers of warmth in the house--the soft sounds of late-night television in the next room,
the giggle of children recently tucked into beds,

the white-noise of the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.

Slipping between icy layers, you wait for body heat to warm your winter's bed.

In a minute, your limbs relax to their natural length and soon the old seducer, sleep, comes
to sail you over the long, dark landscape to the other side of the moon.

participating in imperfect prose on Thursdays

12th Century Abbey in America?

2010-11-12T07:14:00.002-05:00

I have to hand it to William Randolph Hearst.

+ + +

My pilgrimage to the monastery in North Miami

unearthed a surprising backstory.

+ 1133-1144 A. D. The Monastery of Our Lady, Queen of the Angels was built in Segovia, Spain.

Upon the canonization of Bernard of Clairvaux, a Cistercian monk,

the monastery was renamed in his honor and

Cistercian monks occupied the monastery for nearly 700 years.

+ 1835 A.D. Due to a social revolution in the area, the Cloisters were seized, sold,

and converted into a granary and stable.

A stable? Really?

(Originally, the cloisters had no flooring.)

+ 1925 A. D. Newspaper mogul and antiquities collector Hearst purchased the Cloisters.

Dismantled stone by stone and bound with protective hay, the structures were packed in 11,000 crates, numbered for identification and shipped to the United States.

About that time, hoof and mouth disease broke out in Segovia.

The U. S. Dept. of Agriculture quarantined the shipment, broke open the crates and burned the hay, fearing it was a possible carrier of the disease.

Unfortunately, the workmen failed to replace the stones in the same numbered boxes

before moving them to a warehouse.

As soon as the shipment arrived, Hearst's financial problems forced

most of his collection to be sold at auction.

The stones remained in a warehouse in Brooklyn, New York for 26 years.

+ 1953 A. D. One year after Hearst's death, Messrs. W. Edgemon and R. Moss

purchased the stones for use as a tourist attraction.

It took 19 months and $1.5 million dollars to put the monastery back together.

+ 1964 A.D. Bishop Henry Louttit purchased the property for the

Diocese of Central, Southeast and Southwest Florida.

Shortly thereafter, the monastery was put up for sale.

Col. Robert Pentland, Jr. a multimillionaire banker, philanthropist and benefactor of many Episcopal churches, purchased the Cloisters and presented them to the parish of

St. Bernard de Clairvaux in North Miami, Florida.

Today, the Cloisters are a popular setting for weddings, fashion photography, tourist sightseeing,

and masses held in the chapel (once the monks' dining hall).

Here, kitty-kitty...

The cloisters make a comfortable home for six cats

who live on the grounds and in the gardens.

The cat lady comes to feed them every day.

Pouring Wine, Abbey Style

2010-11-11T06:44:00.003-05:00

I love an excuse to pour a glass of wine.

When it's the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month,

it's time to taste the new wine--An ancient European feast day, Martinmas marked

the end of field work and the beginning of winter. It was (and is) celebrated in various ways.

I like Portugal's simple celebration:

Associated with the maturation of the year's wine,

St. Martin's is the first day for tasting it.

Around a bonfire, chestnuts roast under the embers

while a local light alcoholic beverage called "foot water" is poured.

A little ditty goes:

It is St. Martin's Day,

we'll eat chestnuts, we'll taste the wine.

+ + +

In the United States of America, 11/11 is celebrated as Veterans' Day.

So...

at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month,

I drink a toast to those who so valiantly served.

Pax vobiscum.

+++

Viva la Venice

2010-11-01T14:23:00.002-04:00

O, to be in Venice.

O, wait...I am in Venice.

No, not Venice, Florida...

Venice, Italy.

+ + +

Italian phrases, anyone?

just revisiting...

Have a Haunted Halloween!

2010-10-29T10:56:00.004-04:00

Spanish moss clings to the trees along Venice Avenue.

Lovely, this time of year...

Sun Worshippers

2010-10-26T09:15:00.000-04:00

Chairs are like people...characters with shapes, lines, and colors.

Like church pews set in tight rows, these pretties occupy the boardwalk at Sharky's On The Pier.

+ + +

OK, so they're cheap plastic chairs from Publix.

But they have smart shapes, humble price tags, and a pure-and-perfect purpose:

beachy laps for those who come to worship the sun.

Cathedral Ceilings

2010-10-20T06:27:00.000-04:00

If I were more like my sister Solveig, I could tell you this German cathedral's name

and give you a quick rundown on its history.

But, alas, my brain doesn't retain. It doesn't inquire. Or register a back story.

It's my heart that requests. An image, please. A photo to save and savor the memory of this space.

A portal to revisit the emotional power of its soaring ceiling.

To remember the lines, colors, and shapes of

yet another gateway to heaven.

+ + +

It's no wonder cathedral ceilings are adapted for homes.

They feel better than standard 8' ceilings.

Volume lets the spirit soar. The imagination's free to fly.

And the crystal lights of chandeliers glitter like the stars!

Apple Tuesday

2010-10-19T05:57:00.000-04:00

Bite into a delectable apple

to celebrate this early 20th century American holiday!

To make an apple "mojito,"

combine three ounces of apple juice, a sprig of fresh mint,

and a squeeze of lime in a shaker filled with ice.

Give it a shake, pour into a glass and top it off with ginger ale.

Happy Apple Day!

TABLE GRACE: October Centerpiece

2010-10-12T06:05:00.015-04:00

Pumpkins, pure and simple.

White pumpkins...signs of the ghostly season.

A seashell or two.

Asparagus fern that's going to seed.

Roasted pumpkin seeds, pistachios, and white-covered raisins.

+ + +
Shafts of late afternoon light shift across the room as the sun goes down.

The table is ready.

Saturday Sighting

2010-10-09T18:37:00.005-04:00

When I first spotted these specimens at a farmer's market, I thought I was looking at seashells. On the contrary, they are quite something else: Morel mushrooms.

'tis the season for hunting mushrooms in the forest and the gatherers of these morels had a complete selection of colors and forms. Visually tempting, certainly. I wonder how they taste...

Birds of Paradise

2010-10-06T16:01:00.011-04:00

Upon our return to Florida, we are surprised to see these blooms in our "jungle garden."

I never understood why these flowers are called "birds of paradise" but I think I see it now.

Bluish heads with sharp beaks are showing off their colorful headresses of orange and purple.

I continue to learn from this tropical landscape with its subtle seasonal changes,

glitzy look at Christmas, and easygoing charms.

Hello, Sunshine State!

2010-10-03T08:06:00.009-04:00

We've got the blues...

Looking South

2010-09-29T07:51:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year...
This is where we spend summer nights
watching the phases and journey of the moon,
viewing rainstorms and fireworks,
feeling the heat of Iowa cornfields,
and staging intimate parties.
Soon this little view from our summer balcony will freeze over
and boys won't fish in the pond anymore.

+ + +

Yellow school buses drive past,
swimming pools close
and we make our last trip north to visit Mom.

It's that time of year...

Like Monarch butterflies,
we migrate south to winter over.
By the first of October,
we'll be home in Florida again.
The nicest thing about this is that a laptop travels well
and we can stay in touch.
See you in the south.

If It Walks Like A Duck...

2010-09-24T11:40:00.000-04:00

Giving Way to Autumn, Giving Away To Winners

2010-09-21T20:01:00.000-04:00

The morns are meeker than they were,
the nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
the rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
the field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

Emily Dickenson

+ + +
And now for the winner of my book giveaway--
make that plural...a winner for each title.

First Home--Julie Holloway
Style By Nature--Bev Kurkowski
3-Ingredient Decorating--Linda Letnes
Style By the Aisle--Stan Rolfsrud
Redecorate Your Home the Lazy Way--Susan Erickson

I'll be in touch to get your mailing addresses :) and thanks for participating in the happy celebration of my first year of blogging!

BABY GRACE

2010-09-15T21:08:00.001-04:00

He smiles up at me from his playtime saucer, amused.

Shyly, I sing to him, buoyed by the music from a compact-disc player nearby and, as I float along on a blissful flute melody, his eyes light up and his expression changes to something resembling rapture--

a wondrous look I've not seen on his face before.

Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of his baby face and

gratitude for his glowing appreciation for my simple song.

"Oh, you're so beautiful!" I say and, suddenly, great tears of joy well up from my heart, filling the space between my ears. I hide my reddening, ugly-cry face behind my hands.

Puzzled, he follows me with his eyes to learn what gives.

But I'm unable to mask my turned-down mouth with a goofy smile, and, in a moment, his chin begins to tremble with empathy and his tiny lips turn downward to match mine.

Sobbing, he reaches his arms upward and I pull him to me in embrace.

We hold together, connected heart to heart, his chubby arms wrapped about my neck.

At first, we sob loudly to let go of the urge to cry. Then our heartbeats, steady and sure, bring calm. Soon only a few, quiet sobs of air bobbling in his lungs are left. I hum softly behind his ear and we sway side-to-side with the music. For a minute longer, we hold together, fascinated by the mystery and wonder of this strange moment of connection, this kiss from God so alive with love.

Then we turn to the mantel mirror to look at our tear-stained faces and smile again.

+ + +

Down-to-earth souls we are, connecting by way of the senses--touching, tasting, seeing, hearing, and smelling our ways into each other's worlds. At times, we touch upon the pleasures of a sixth sense--the mysterious ability to know love in larger forms.

+ William Shakeseare

If music be the food of love, play on...

State Fair Prizewinner

2010-09-13T11:07:00.000-04:00

A lovely lady, garmented in light
From her own beauty.

+ Percy Bysshe Shelley