Friday, November 17, 2017

Prose for the seasons

When morning comes, I long for bedtime.
Flannel sheets, our dog tucked between us, all of us drowsy and cozy.
The sweet oblivion of a solid nights sleep with help from my little yellow friend.

When evening comes, I long for morning.
The house still hushed, a lit candle to dispel the gloom and darkness,
reading my morning devotionals and praying to God.
Getting ready for the day, that first sip of coffee,
the grandkids running towards me down the front sidewalk.

When we go on vacation, I long for the comfort of my own home.
When vacation is a distant memory, I long for rest and relaxation in a condo,
on the beach, listening to the waves pound the shore...
the gentle whisper of YAHWEH coming with each crest.

In the heat and humidity of a long and hot Summer,
I long for the cold, crisp days of  Autumn.
In the Autumn, after the leaves are gone and daylight is replaced
by gray clouds for days on end,
I long for bright Summer sunshine and green trees and grass.
That humidity can go fuck itself tho.

I love Winter and the cold air. I love when it snows a lot.
I love living in that marshmallow world thingy. (hate the song)
I feel energized. I want to cook fabulous meals. And redecorate the house.
I wish we had a fireplace to gaze into during dark and snowy nights.

In late Winter, I long for Spring to get here.
The snow has now turned into a blackish/gray slush
and the cold at this point in time has grown tiresome.
I find myself scanning the trees looking for buds.
On the ground I see a smidge of green. Is that a Crocus?  LOOK! IT'S A Crocus!!!

My gardens look terrible except in my minds eye,
where I can just imagine what the perennials I planted last year might look like in a few weeks with a lot of annuals thrown in.
Birds start singing at dawn; happy to be alive and so am I.

After early Spring when that initial high of planting and pruning and mowing and gardening has worn off, and those birds need to shut the hell up...
It starts to feel a little bit warmer.
Sunlight lasts a little bit longer and so do the days.

Pretty soon the heat starts to creep back in and it brings with it
that hateful friend of his called humidity.
Let's be honest...The words Humidity and Miserable Bastard are interchangeable, right?

What's your favorite season of all?

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Thursday, November 16, 2017

What's in a name?

Ruska [Finnish] ~ (n.) the process of tree leaves turning various shades of red, yellow, purple, and brown in the autumn; the time of fall foliage.
psithurism (Greek)
No one ever has much trouble describing their kid’s latest tantrum, the terrible movie they watched last night or why we should

Word of the Day: Psithurism. The sound of the wind through trees. #inspiration #wordoftheday #graphicdesign

Old English FEER-ye-brak

I love these words and images.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Monday, November 13, 2017


I've not been able to think of a post for a few days.
I guess that's a good thing.
While I wait for my thoughts to process, I thought I'd leave you with this image-

The grown girls and the young man on the far right are my kids.
The other two young men are my son-in-laws.
The littlest humans are my grand kids-Patrick, Fiona, Charlie and Delaney.
And him and I are sort of off center.

This was a good day.
This picture makes my heart happy.

Until next time,
Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Whining is whining, tell your story or move on

Birdie writes a blog post and it reads like a prayer.
I'm not comparing myself to her, just making an observation.
She writes about the minutia of her life...
Like making soup, her kids, doing laundry, going to work, even going to bed.
She talks of her gardens, of it raining or snowing and it makes me sigh with relief and also it makes me want to move to the PNW.

What she writes about is all so normal and yet her people, her followers
respond and agree and give advice and support her.
She's got a good group of people who respond with a "Me too!" type of mentality.

Seems like there is a lot of us who are living our lives the best we can
and always hoping for a better tomorrow.

When I write, it always feels like I am whining.
I always seem to be pissed off at someone or aggravated.
I mentioned this to another blogger once and she reprimanded me with-
"Whining is whining, tell your story or move on."

Uh, ok.

Yesterday my sister pissed me off with unsolicited advice about my son who, for those of you who don't know,  is still grieving the loss of his girlfriend.
(And by loss I mean she broke up with him without any kind of warning that she was unhappy in the relationship. The aftermath, for him, was/is devastating.)
He lost his girlfriend, his home, his dog, his social life and friends.
And he moved back in to his boyhood bedroom at the top of our stairs.

He is seeing a therapist and she has given him some anxiety reducing medicine for the short term.
He is writing in a journal doing what is called a Brain Dump.
Every time the sadness starts to overwhelm him he writes it out for as long as he needs to. He's better but is still feeling down at times.

My sisters advice was for him to stop seeing himself as the victim, since according to her, my son always falls in love too hard, and causes his own anguish; that he brings this pain upon himself .
In my head I thought to myself- What do you know about that sort of advice?
For that matter what advice could you possibly give regarding grown kids and their relationships?

Cuz here's the thing...she has 3 grown kids who all still live at home.
They are 32, 28 and 22. And all of them are single.
And none of them have ever dated or had a boyfriend or a girlfriend.
Not in high school. Not in college. Not now.

Did I tell my sister off or argue with her? No, I did not.
I dropped the conversation, changed the subject, and ended the phone call sooner than I planned.
This sister is a bully and very bossy and opinionated.
She never believes herself to be in the wrong, and she never apologizes...ever.
Why I call her is anybody's guess.
Guess I love her too hard, because she causes me anguish.
(two can play this game)

Today it feels better to whine about my jerky, know-it-all, bully of a sister.
Whining IS whining! That blogger was right.

So...regarding the rest of her advice...tell your story or move on?
I'm working on it...the storytelling part anyway.
I still feel myself rising up out of these ashes.
Just not ready to do battle over something my sister knows nothing about.
She would or could cut me to ribbons with her razor sharp tongue and self-righteous talk and know-it-all attitude.
And I feel like it was a win for me to disengage first. I saved myself.
And I'm moving on.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Tuesday, October 24, 2017


When the Autumn rains come and it's gray and cloudy for days on end,
When the leaves are done blazing into color and lay in brown curled heaps on the ground,
When the wind whips up and the forecast starts to get colder,
When October begins turning into November and beyond....
The  S.A.D.  battles start.
This is a war of words, of tempers, of attitudes, of seemingly endless strife about nonsense.
And in this house it is every man for themselves.

It took us years to figure out what it 
We have finally given it a name.  But "we" don't do anything about it except argue.

He admits to having Seasonal Affective Disorder. 
He admits to the sadness and the blues and the irritation of the season.
When I suggested he buy a light, his response to me was-  
"They are too expensive".

He gets ornery, which gets me ornery. He becomes sensitive to words and requests and I feel like I'm walking on eggshells most days, not sure what is going to set him off.
This post will set him off.
Him and I have never been able to figure out how not to wound each other when we are at our worst.
Whether one of us is sick or tired or sad, it seems like the other finds the achilles heel and goes in for the kill.
At least that's the way I see it. That's the way I perceive it. That's how it feels to me.

When I get sick, my ears become filled with fluid. I become deaf as a post. It's hard to hear which makes me irritable. Constantly saying "What?" bothers me as much as it bothers him.
I've seen an ENT. I have significant hearing loss in my right ear. It's much worse when I'm sick.
The ENT suggested I educate my husband on dealing with a person who has hearing loss. 
He said to tell my husband to Rephrase the statement; Don't repeat it.
But for some reason, especially when I am under the weather, it pisses him off to have to continually repeat himself to me. 
A few days ago I asked him a question and misheard his answer, but also I don't have a problem with my eyes and I could visably see his face was angry and his eyebrows were drawn together and he answered me before I was even done speaking.
When I got mad at him for that he said- "Don't blame me for your lack of hearing".  Blame?!?

Now to be truthful, I wasn't looking to blame him for my lack of hearing. He was being rude by not letting me finish my question.
But he likes to throw that word around a lot -BLAME
Don't blame me. I'm not taking the blame for that. Blame yourself, not me. 
You're to blame.
When I ask him a question, he accuses me of blaming him for something.
Did you spill something? The floor is sticky.  
He'll say "Why do you blame me for that?"
It's like a festering thorn under my skin and I'm tired of this blame game.
It is so unnecessary!
While we were out walking the dog, I found a brilliantly colored crimson leaf, then a bright orange one, then a red and yellow striped one. Look! I said and smiled. Aren't they beautiful?
And his response was to say-
Why do you do that to me? Do you do that on purpose?
Do what? I asked
Rub my nose in it.
You know I hate Fall. Why are you showing me leaves? And why do you smile when you do it?
You're making me feel worse.
Sigh...Sometimes I think I am married to a crazy person.

 For the next 5 months he will be slightly unpleasant, sort of on edge, sort of cranky, unhappy.
The weather controls his moods especially during the Fall and Winter.
He doesn't know the definition of the word Petrichor; literally or figuratively.
He doesn't feel warm and cozy and safe and dry inside when it is gray and rainy and windy.
When it snows, he won't be able to see the glitter on the snow or taste the flakes on his tongue.
He will not be able to smell the way the icy cold air smells, or see the magic and brilliance as the snow glows under starlit skies.
He notices that I stare at sunrises and sunsets, yet he cannot see the beauty in them for hisself.
Red sky in the morning to him means... great, more rain this afternoon.

The holidays will come and go and he will keep mostly to himself at family functions.
He will sit in a quiet corner, playing on his IPhone, sometimes reading a magazine, sometimes playing with the grandkids but not really partaking of the festivities.
I've learned to leave him be during these family situations.
I enjoy myself with my mom and sisters and all of our kids and I leave him to his own devices. 
It works in a weird way.

Let me end this post by saying this-
I love this man. We all have our faults. Myself included. We all have our likes and dislikes.
But I sometimes wonder if God isn't trying to get me to help this man pull himself out of his doldrums by showing him the brilliantly colored leaf found on a sidewalk during a gray afternoon walk. Or the red and orange and pink sunrises and sunsets that look like fire in the sky.
Or by tasting that first snowflake, or seeing pictures in the clouds, or by smelling rain.
Or listening to family laugh and talk and prepare food so we can sit down and eat together.

Because honestly, what is my alternative here? 
Do I stop noticing these things myself then?
If I see something that stirs my senses, do I keep it to myself and not share it with him?
Do I stop trying to get him to see the beauty in this world?
Should I leave him be to wallow in this darkness by himself until the Spring thaw?
Do I not laugh with my sisters or enjoy the company of our large family?
How lonely would that be for him.
How lonely would that be for me too.

I don't have any answers here. 
I honestly think that light would help. But I am not the one who needs it.
I find that I am blessed to be able to see my way through life by a different kind of light.

I hope and pray that someday he can see his way through life by that same light too.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Monday, October 23, 2017


I've started diffusing essential oils in my home.
My best friend is a consultant through Young Living and gave me a diffuser and 10 different oils for my birthday in September.
I've been sick with and upper respiratory infection for the last 9 days (there's a big surprise).
Yesterday I started diffusing Thieves. I thought it smelled great. A little clove-y, a little bit like medicine maybe, but my son said he smelled a rotting dead body.
My husband said it wasn't that bad, but that yes, it didn't smell all that great.
The two of them think oils are a bunch of mumbo jumbo.
Whatever...I like the way they smell and I like the way they make the house smell too.
So I diffuse it while they are away at work.
I'm also using over the counter decongestants Sudafed and Mucinex, Emergen C, and drinking lots of hot green tea with honey and ice water with slices of lemon.
I feel better than I did last week, so there is that.

Still feeling positive and upbeat about the rest of my life.
Still sleeping through the night most of the time; sometimes even without a pill for assistance.
Yay progress!

That's it for now.
It's raining and I need to pick up my grandson from school and drop off my granddaughter at Ballet class.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Thank You for Each Moment

Thank You for Each Moment
Lord, thank you for each moment,
for the blue-sky moment,
the softening earth,
the refreshing wind,
the yellow bush,
for my full heart
and the joy rising in me.
Soften me
to receive whatever comes as a gift 
and to praise you in it.
Lord, thank you for each moment
for the twilight moment,
the pause,
the good tired,
for the quiet reflection,
the slowing down,
the mysterious sunset,
for the wisdom growing inside me.
Gentle me
to feel whatever comes as a gift
and to praise you in it.
Lord, thank you for each moment,
for the midnight moment,
the loneliness,
the fretful wondering,
for the watchful stars,
the long ache,
the sleepless wait,
and the hope straining in me.
Focus me
to see whatever comes as a gift
and to praise you in it.
Lord, thank you for each moment,
for the high-noon moment,
the job,
the necessary routine,
for the sweaty struggle,
the impulse to change,
and the courage gathering in me.
Ground me
to wrestle with whatever comes as a gift
and to praise you in it.
Lord, thank you for each moment,
for the shared moment,
the listening,
the unguarded word,
for the fragile openness,
the ready smile,
the accepted difference,
for my passionate heart
and the trust rooting in me.
Stretch me
to grow with whatever comes as a gift
and to praise you in it.
Thank you for each moment,
for the charged moment,
the confrontation,
for the hard decision,
the unexpected growing,
for my intense heart
and the truth expanding in me.
Free me
to be open to whatever comes as a gift
and to praise you in it.
Thank you for each moment,
for the holy moment,
the music,
the child’s eyes,
for the sunlight,
the touch,
the tears,
for the trembling pleasure,
the unutterable beauty,
for the life and love and heart in me aware,
and the wholeness spreading in me.
Touch me
through whatever comes as a gift
That I may be grateful
and praise you in it.

~from Guerrillas of Grace by Ted Loder

One of my favorites by Ted Loder. His poetry reads like the prayers that go through my own mind. But he's much better at writing them down than I am.
My prayers usually come out more like Anne Lamott's words-
Help Lord
Thanks Lord
Wow Lord

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly