Fade to Black

27 09 2017

Some days are so beautiful that they hurt our eyes. Today is one of those. The sunshine, while mid-summer warm, still has taken on the special golden quality of autumn light.

So beautiful it hurts my eyes because it is so magnificent and so fleeting.

When I sat down to write today, this was all I could think about, soI harvested a petite bouquet and Rebel and I contemplated our good fortune to be able to enjoy all of this beauty, brief as it may be.





Au Revoir, August

30 08 2017

August – an adjective meaning respected and impressive.

Well, August, I am not impressed. You have disrespected your reputation as the hot chick of months, boo-hooing rain from chilly gray skies a few too many days to go unnoticed.  Seems like even you are in a funk this year.

I guess I can’t blame you. There’s plenty of awful stuff in the ether (and in Virginia and Texas and North Korea and D.C.) to spoil any sunny disposition, but COME ON,  you only have one more day this year!  Shake off this gloom – that’s November’s gig.

August and I know that we’ve been less than our best this week and I think we’ve both had quite enough of our pitiful selves. She’s making an impression, today though, with lovely sunshine and a comfortable breeze.  August, I owe you – and myself – more respect than to sit and mope over things that will not change whether or not I cry over them.

August is here for one more day this year. That means one more day of my favorite ice cream as the flavor of the month,  one more day to write that curvaceous number eight in my checkbook, one more day of summer’s not even close to over yet. 

August, I’m sorry I hollered at you.  It’s not your fault that you happened to be a reflection of my crankiness.  I’m shaking it off by cranking up the lawn mower, strolling around my little property and remembering how lucky I am to have such a lovely and peaceful place to call home.

I’ll miss you when you go, tomorrow, but I’ll see you again next year – and that’s pretty impressive.

Bye, August.


Que Sera, Sera

2 09 2015

In a few weeks, my dear father-in-law will be eighty years old,  so we’ve spent the last week in Mexico, celebrating this milestone with seven days of sunshine, food, drink, and family.

I am a very lucky woman to have married into this smart, funny, and kind group of people.

While this week has been wonderful, it has also been melancholy, for my own dear father’s birthday is also toward the end of September. It seems odd that the happiest family moments can draw the most bittersweet of memories, the sharpest pangs of grief.

Dad’s been gone for over twenty years, but I often hear his voice in my head, usually gently teasing me, always supporting me. This week, I heard him singing to me.

          Goodbye Joe, me gotta go me oh my oh . . .

          Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be . . .

          Bet my money on a bob-tail nag; somebody bet on the bay.

These were songs he sang to me when I was a little girl. They remind me that my earliest memories are of my father’s love. I suppose the family love that surrounded our group this week is what drew that music to my ears.

I am a very lucky woman to be the daughter of a smart, funny, and kind man.

Now, I am going to sing myself to sleep. Dream sweetly.

Help! I’ve “Fallen” and I Can’t Get Up

1 10 2014

Alright, I give up. It’s fall.  Some people call it autumn, but it’s fall to me.

Fall, as in:

  • Fall-ing temperatures
  • Fall-ing leaves
  • Fall-ing from grace
  • Fall-ing out of favor
  • Fall-ing flat on my face


Fall also (when I overlook the overcast skies and remind myself that Daylight Saving Time always returns in the spring) means:

  • Fall family holidays on the calendar
  • Fall Into Fine Craft – my only craft fair exhibition this year
  • Fall Ball – the World Series, which might/better feature my team, the Washington Nationals
  • Fall menus –  happy husband because it’s pumpkin pie season
  • Fall television season – we LOVE TV


Yes, fall is like the rest of life – good and bad, happy and sad, here and then gone . . .

Hmmmm . . . okay.


Even though I will never be your fan, Fall, I will try harder to focus on your (few) positive attributes.

  • You’ll be refreshing, not cold.
  • The leaves will not be dropping; they’ll be dancing in the wind.
  • You’ll be my third most favorite season, not the one I dislike most, next to winter.
  • You’ll bring feelings of nostalgia; it won’t be melancholy.
  • I’ll step lively, not drag my feet, so, this autumn, I won’t be falling.


Happy October, everyone.

Spelling Bleep

16 02 2011

Go away, blues, seasonal affective disorder, melancholy – whatever you call yourself.  You have worn out your welcome and me.  Like a dull but persistent headache, you have hung around, just under the surface, making everything else in my life a little bit less pleasant than it should be. 

You know, when you have that little nagging headache, as soon as you take an Advil, you are on your way to a better day?  Well, this morning, I found a dose of temperament Tylenol – legal, free, effective – in a Facebook post. 

There are lots of clever Facebookers and lots of humorous articles and cartoons, but this morning, I found a real winner – one of those funny-by-accident posts that make you groan and giggle at the same time.  There, in a comment in response to a lovely painting by Suzanne Grissett Buckner, it was.  Psychic gold just when I was feeling broke.  To see better images of SGB’s work, visit www.SuzanneBuckner.com, but here is a snapshot of the work that produced the comment –

and here’s the comment, exactly as it was posted:

ooo she is so sofisticated. Does she live in Paris? I think she might 🙂


I’ll admit I am part German.  I feel somewhat better about myself when I am confronted with someone who does not use Spellchecker, but  to misspell that particular word in that context, commenting on a (very wonderful) self-taught, Alabama ( I was born south of the Mason-Dixon, too, y’all) folk artist’s work, is truly a gift from the ether!

Thank you, Ms Buckner, for posting your fabulous art on Facebook.  Your work is delightful.  This comment was just the sparkler on the birthday cake!  I am going to walk around all day feeling sophisticated – nah, just better.  Laughter is really good medicine.