Category Archives: Doing life

And there was cake

A number of years ago we had my Mom’s old home movies transferred to discs. When we went to pick up these time capsules revealed, they played party after party! The tech commented, “You sure had a lot of cake!” And we did! Every birthday was a celebration and cake was required. And candles. And ice cream. And off-key singing with gusto! Mom never forgot or was too busy to celebrate the ones she loved.

This morning I baked cake, an everyday sort of cake but one I remember best and bake often, Mom’s Cinnamon Coffee Cake and we remember –

And I write and call and encourage everyone to have a treat today, a splendid, memorial treat and celebrate. Happy Birthday, Mom! We remember you and all the good times!

Through a lens

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

and every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Recently I read this post by Chuck Summers on his need to take photographs. I felt a kindred spirit as I too can feel a need to step outside even just my kitchen door and capture something wonderful – a blossom, a darkening sky, a tendril, a bird or squirrel – reminders that one day is never the same as the one before nor is an hour or even a minute.

And bees do not always sleep in a hosta bloom.

Everything can change in an instant. Possibilities abound! Somehow, entering into the world of photography in my small way enables me to engage my whole day with different eyes. As Chuck Summers says, “There is something extremely therapeutic about spending time in the midst of God’s Creation.”

And at the end of day, I sense the words we sang at every campfire closing –

Day is done, gone the sun

From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky

All is well, safely rest

God is nigh.

Amen

waiting

House Wrens nest each year in this tiny house hanging in the magnolia tree. Their cheerful song seems larger than such a small bird could sing. The rains have kept me from the gardens lately so I didn’t realize till just yesterday that they have a full house. The chatter of the hungry young while they wait and their eager greetings of their hunter parents is also very loud. The more food, of course, the quieter things become. When the meal service is done, I hear the parents again singing cheerfully from a branch in the tree. Lucky them, no kitchen clean-up!

I’ve been doing a lot of waiting lately. Waiting in designated waiting rooms. I’m at a loss to understand why medical facilities feel the need to blare stressful programing at those waiting long waits. How much nicer if they might offer water or coffee or tea, or soothing classical music to feed the hungry soul.

Do you wait well? What helps you to wait?

April views and musings

I found that blog conversion and learning this new thing felt a bit like I was pushing through my own darkness and into new light. But construction has begun and changes will come in time!

There is always much to do in the spring gardens. Picking up, raking, digging, pruning, planning, all wonderful activities for reflection.

So much beauty and vibrant color after the dull of winter almost hurts the eye while it refreshes the soul. It slowed my anxiousness and Cousin Cele came to mind. We met through the “magic” of internet research. Cele had a great deal of family history to share with me. At our first meeting she brought a book she had created from her mother’s family complete with photographs. I was rather amazed and told her I needed to take a class in the photo editing program she used. Her reply surprised me – “Classes are all well and good but sometimes you just have to get in there and do it.” Cele was 87 at that time. Whether for gardening or blogging or cleaning house, “sometimes you just have to get in there and do it” is good advice!

A walk in the rain to drink in the fleeting wonder of spring blossoms. I never tire of it!

Coming to ends

For at least a week, I would wake and think it must be February 28. It finally is! After a month of gloomy winter, yesterday and today have had sun and I was happy to go in search of spring coming. I was not disappointed.

I have known for a while that the blogging platform I use would come to an end of itself and now notice has been served. Please wish me well as I move my work to another service. My on-line address will remain the same.

Tuesday breaking dawn

I love the breaking open of a new day! Today was especially lovely to me and a wonderful morning for baking.

The coming of the Lenten season always brings up one of the few symbols of my German heritage that we enjoyed while growing up – donuts!

My Mom always made cake donuts covered with sugar or cinnamon sugar which I must confess we enjoyed well into Lent as her recipe made so many. My variation started last week when I mixed flour and water, added a little yeast, and set it to grow a lively sourdough starter. First there were pancakes and now donuts from its bubbling crock. A mere ten from my recipe, fragrant with nutmeg and covered with cinnamon and sugar will sustain me with thoughts of home.

My mother-in-law made “kreppels” probably from “Krapfen”, deep fried dough sprinkled with powdered sugar, for her family. Although hers were plain, I remember the German bakery near home with rounds of fried dough filled with cream or marshmallow and dusted with sugar, a favorite for my Dad. I find myself smiling now remembering the explosion of cream in my mouth when I bit into the soft browned dough.

Donuts now in the freezer will satisfy us for some Sundays to come. And the mysterious fragrance of the starter will call forth more pancakes or perhaps some biscuits another morning.

New Light

New light, as if the New Year were waking and stirring life.

Although the world outside sleeps, the promise glows in the window.

Do you feel this newness stirring you? Oh, not with resolutions, but with new hope and vision and creativity waiting to burst forth. I’m always happy for these beautiful blooms to burst open in deep winter.

I’m letting the stirring happen and waiting to see what bursts forth in my life.

I’m From Twelve Days of Christmas

It has been about seven years since I stepping into the family history adventure. In this time I have met new family and said good-by to several senior members of these wonderful tribes. My life has been so enriched by the stories and I have grown interested in memoir. How I wish to come upon some long ago writings!

This year I found Spiritual Memoirs 101 and sometimes I even do the exercises!

This is a quiet time and so I’ve mused on the “Where Are You From?” Christmas exercise, one which you might find fun as we continue on through these twelve days of Christmas. So many are ready to put out the tree but for my family, we would still be in Christmas mode, and would stay so past Twelfth Night giving Dad a chance to celebrate his birthday in a festive house before boxes had to be fetched from the attic, packed and then hoisted up again.

I’m from twelve days of Christmas

I’m from sugar cookies rolled thin, Quality Street candy and candy canes too

I’m from homemade fruitcake, family dinners and packages sent ’round the world

I’m from Advent wreaths and singing O Come, O Come, Emmanuel on dark December mornings

I’m from candle lighted windows, frosty cold bedroom and a warm, cozy kitchen

I’m from prickly holly and an angel topped tree

I’m from red felt stockings hung down the stairs and secrets and laughter and Christmas tears

I’m from row house grandparents and Manger gardens with trains

I’m from Christmas movies and carols sung off-key

I’m from department store Christmas windows and market stalls of treats

What Christmas treasures have been mine! Like an amazing box of ornaments from a storehouse, each one unwrapped, the beautiful, the not so, some broken and ugly and all come alive again in memory. I sit here long years later, listening to wind howl, gazing into candlelight and feel the smile play on my face. For just a moment it can all real again, the crisp snap of a cookie, the pungent smell of sherry soaked fruitcake, the couch where I sat in tree and candlelight and longed for snow. I can feel the cold and crowds pressed in to see the wondrous animated scenes in the store windows and smell the roasting peanuts near the market bus stop and even warm my hands once again on the large bag of them I hold for the long ride home.

There were tears that stained Christmases too. Time and understanding have faded them gently to the background like the soft crumpled tissue that will cradle it all until another Christmas comes.

November in Layers

The month was layered…layers of blankets and quilts…sweaters and scarves and caps. Mornings were layered with fogs and mists that gave way in wisps to show sparkly carpets of frosted grass and leaf in rising sun over fields and woodland. And oakleaf hydrangeas wear frost in elegance on their now colorful leaves.

Trees are more defined in November, dark trunks and branches against evergreen and the late color of red maple and coppery blueberry and golden viburnum glow in the afternoon light, like layers of a masterful painting.

There are layers too of bird chatter as snowbirds and wrens scuffle around in mulch and dried leaves near the door while finches perch for fresh water and all kinds of birds cling to the feeders surveyed by chattering, fat, furry squirrels while flashes of cardinal and bluejay brighten the yard.

My thoughts are all layers too, stuff and plans, memories and dreamings… some shrouded in frost or cloud, some bathed in sunlight or moonlight. But always as I survey my small piece of world, I look to see through the layers, to really see, and to be grateful, giving thanks for all that I have been given in this life.

When life overwhelms

There is a saying that comes into my mind this morning – all things continue as they were. It seems to go with my thoughts of yesterday. I was driving with no place to stop to capture the beauty of sky and autumn leaves around me; how could the day be so beautiful? It should be rain to weep for me my unshed tears and hail to match my throbbing head; lightening should rend the heavens and thunder peal for my lack of words.

Have you ever had the loveliest experience and seemed to be ‘walking on air’ in your exuberance? You were so delighted with everything happening in life that you wanted to shout and dance about and shake the gloomy faces around you and tell then that life was wonderful!

Or have you had the worst news ever that tells you life will never be the same for someone you love or yourself and they are the same in your pain? And you want to shake the people laughing and dancing and tell them that life is hard.

We’ve all probably had both, many times, or will. These times seem as relentless as the ocean waves. And we long for calm seas. But they will not carry us anywhere and I must, we must, hope and long for the joy to come again. And I must see the beauty in the ocean power and majesty while wary of the same.

Where does your strength and endurance come from?

The words of a Psalm come to me, “My help comes from the LORD, maker of heaven and earth.” and I go and read the ending, “The LORD will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life, the LORD will watch over your coming and your going both now and forevermore.” And like many before me, I wonder at the words and hope and pray this for the one I love whose hope is small today.