Rainy Days

I LOVE rain days!  I love when I hear on Friday that Sunday is going to be an all-day rain event!  All day rain!  I can't help it, I get all wiggly with anticipation.  Don't misunderstand, I love sunny days, but I really LOVE rainy days. 

In my mind, I am already planning how I am going to spend my rainy day.  Which actually, is really not much different than any other day.  But it is.  It's a rainy day.  The light in the house is different.  The light outside the house is different.  There are shadows and depth where there once was none.  I feel cozier and snug in my home on rainy days.   

We enclosed our porch a few years back, and when it's raining, and not too cold, I love to sit inside the porch and listen to the rain.  I am surrounded by the rain, I am part of the rain, and yet I'm not.  I feel like I am inside a shaky globe.  It's a fabulous feeling. 

Rainy days.  Hope your rainy day is just as grand! 

"Dear Life"

I just finished reading "Dear Life: A Doctor's Story of Love & Loss" by Rachel Clarke.  Actually this is the second time I have read it in 8 months. The first time I read it was because empathy, compassion and end of life is a topic I am drawn to. The second time I read it was because empathy, compassion and end of life was something I was experiencing in my own life. 

Dr. Clarke is a Doctor specializing in Palliative Medicine.  She chose this area to specialize in after serving for many years in the hospital system.  She witnessed a need, a need that she could fill. It was also in this area that she found her calling and life's mission. 

I would like to share a few quotes from her book.  The first is her answer to the question about how she could do this (care for the terminally ill) every single day. So many people said to her 'don't you find it depressing?'  Her response; "....nothing could be further from the truth.  All that is good in human nature - courage, compassion, our capacity to love - is here in it's most distilled form.  So often, so reliably, I witness people rising to their best, upon facing the worst.  I am surrounded by human beings at their finest."

And this: "What dominates Palliative medicine is not the proximity to death, but the best bits of living.  Kindness, courage, love, tenderness - these are the qualities that so often saturate a person's last days"

These quotes, her experiences, her wisdom and compassion is exactly why I read this book. Twice.  Dr. Clarke is honest and straightforward about the failings of our medical field. "We make paradoxical demands on our doctors.  We want them human, empathetic and caring, but only up to a point.  We also want the detachment that enables them to swoop to a crisis and crack on undeterred all instincts to recoil suppressed."

And this; "If in striving for longer and better living, doctors end up merely prolonging your painful demise, then medicine has surely lost its way."

End of life. This is not an easy topic to think about and acknowledge.  And it's not a talk we want to have with those we love, but it is so important.  So many times Doctors will steer terminally ill patients to choose "life saving" measures which unfortunately, in the end, greatly diminish their quality of life.  If you have these conversations beforehand, and your wishes are known, then you choose life, and death, on your own terms. 

The question Dr. Clarke asks, the question that we should all ask ourselves and those we love is this:  "What are your tradeoff's? What are you willing to do to ensure that your life, your remaining life, is comfortable and peaceful". 

The answer will be yours and it will be different for every single person.  But it's your life.  In this situation, you have every right to decide, on your terms, how to end this life and begin your new one. 💗

Prom

I never went to any of my high school dances, homecomings or proms.  Never.  Not one.  And just in case you are wondering - I wasn't even asked. In fact, I never even dated until after I got out of high school.  

This topic never bothered me.  Honestly, I never really gave it much thought until I found myself talking with two of my girlfriends.  We got on the subject of high school dances and I said that I never went to a single dance.  They found this interesting and one felt sorry for me.  I think of it now, the same as I've always thought of it, as a non-issue.  

I just wasn't that kind of kid. I had friends in high school, but I'm not a social person.  I do much better when I am in a small group of people, or better yet, one-on-one.  I KILL it one-on-one. Dances, large groups of people, it didn't appeal to me then and it doesn't appeal to me now either.  

I didn't go to a single High School dance and I am totally fine with that.  I have never once felt that I missed out on something.  In fact, I can guarantee that if I did go, I would have regretted that more. 

Sometimes people feel sorry for me.  They feel bad that I missed out on this experience.  I think they feel worse about it than I do. I didn't feel bad about it back then, and I don't feel bad about it now.   

I did an online search with the subject "So you didn't go to prom"....and thousands of topics came up.  As I scrolled down I saw one line that had a list of celebrities' that didn't go to their prom. And of course, they are all famous people with fabulous lives now.  I guess we are supposed to feel justified that we aren't that bad because famous person A didn't go to their prom either.  Or that you can still go on to live a great life like famous person B even if you didn't go to your prom.  All it did, for me, was reinforce that there is absolutely too much pressure to participate in this event. Too much importance on something that should be your own decision. 

Did you go to your prom?  Awesome!  You didn't go to your prom - that's awesome too!  However, you live (lived) your life, it's your choice.  And just think, I don't have to worry about horribly embarrassing photos of me in a pink, tulle fluffy thing showing up on social media. 😊

 

My Studio

My Studio - just saying the words "My Studio" fills me with joy.  Just knowing that I have this space, this studio all to my own, gives me hope and optimism. This studio is where I will fulfill my mission of spreading joy, one card, one kindness, at a time to as many people as I can, for as long as I can.  

I spend about 6 or 7 hours a day in my studio. I usually listen to audio books, and lately, I've been listening to TED Talks because I want to learn while I create.  I have a large window which overlooks the front of the house and I watch the neighborhood activity.  I know when the mail and packages come. I see the kids when they come home from school, and I can see what Missy see's when she growls her "I may not be outside, but I am here in my/Nora/guest room and I see you, so you better get off my street right now" growl.  And in the summer, I watch the hummingbirds. It's a great space. I don't 'work' in my studio, I 'create' in my studio. 

When people come to my house for the first time, I always show them my studio. Not because the room is especially nice, it's more about function than cozy.  And most likely the studio is in a state of disarray because I am always in the middle of a big project. But I show this room because this is me showing you me.  I am showing you who I am.  When I show you my studio, I am really showing you my heart and my soul. I know how fortunate I am to have this space of my own, So I invite friends to come create with me because my studio is your studio too. Spend time with me and let's create together. Come to my studio. This is who I am. 

I have been blessed with a husband who supports and encourages me in everything I do. He has never once complained about giving up space in our house for me.  Nor has he ever said a word about the amount of time I spend in my studio.  Never once.  He told me once that he is so glad that I have this room, that I have this outlet, that I have this room to create in.  He told me that he is so glad that I have this outlet which allows me to create and which allows me to give. He knows my heart. He knows I have to do both.  It's in my soul.  I have to be nurturing. 

Because I do so many different things; cards, jewelry, sewing, photography, writing etc.... my studio is chock full!  But everything is functional and necessary. Everything is organized in their own sections by crafts and I know where everything is - at all times.  It's chock full, but it's my studio.  It's my space where I create.  It's my place where I feel at home, comfortable and energized.  It's the place where I look forward to coming to each morning.  

When I lay in bed at night, before I go to sleep, I say my prayers, and I offer up my gratitude for all I have been given that day. I always have the studio on my list to be thankful for.  Always. I am thankful for the studio and for the outlet which allows me to fulfill my mission. And I wake up each and every morning with gratitude. I make a conscious effort to live my life in gratitude and it starts each day in my studio. 

Sometimes, commitments and activities keep me out of the room for a day or two and I feel it. I feel the ache and the pull to come back.  And then I return. I sit at my desk, pick up my watercolors and begin to paint again.  I am creating.  I am at home. I am grateful. 

Man with an Eye Patch Standing in a Cabbage Patch

Today's short blog is about this picture: Four well-dressed adults standing in a cabbage patch.  

I don't remember where I got this picture from.  I wish I could remember, but I don't.  There is nothing on the back to indicate why four well-dressed adults are standing in a cabbage patch.  But it's a great picture isn't it?

Everyone is smiling.  Well, everyone except the man on the far right.  You saw him right?  The man with the smallest cabbage, and the 'look' on his face.  And, oh, an eye patch.  

Besides the obvious delight the woman second from the left has with her HUGE cabbage, the two other women are happy too.  But the guy with the eye patch?  What is that look on his face?  Envy?  Astonishment?  It's hard to read, but he doesn't appear to be happy with his cabbage at all.  Or, with the woman with the largest cabbage.

I have a few thoughts:

1) Was this some sort of contest?  But if the contest was for the participants to go into the patch and find the biggest cabbage, why are they dressed up?  Wouldn't you be wearing overalls or other cabbage-picking attire? 

2)  Maybe they were just driving by, out for a drive, on their way to a restaurant, and they came upon the patch.  That would certainly explain why they are well-dressed. I do that often, pull over to the side of the road and venture into farm land to pull up produce. But why take the picture?  Had they never encountered a cabbage patch before? 

3) And Wowzers!  Look at the size of that cabbage the gal second from the left is holding!  It's not only the leaves that make this HUGE, but it's the cabbage itself.  She sure did pick herself a winner. And she is proud of her pick, that is clear. 

4) And then there is the guy with the eye patch.... Is he a pirate?  

5) If he is a pirate, why is he on dry land? Is his ship docked nearby?  

This picture cracks me up every time I look at it.  It's just so darn silly.  Looking at this picture leaves me with so many questions:  So, they have their picture taken, then what?  Did they get back into their car (ship?) with their cabbage and continue on their way?  Did they pull over at the zucchini patch up the road too? 

As you probably noticed, this is not a serious, inspirational or deep blog....it's just a blog about a picture that makes me smile every time I see it.  I hope it makes you smile too! 

If you have your own theories about this picture, I'd love to hear them!  

 

Thank you Mom

I've been keeping a list of things I want to thank my mom for.  I was going to put it together and publish the blog on her birthday in May, but I don't want to wait.  I want my mom to know just how awesome and special she really is.  Here it goes....

First, Mom, thank you for naming me "Janet".  You named me after your best friend Janet Gardner.  You met her when you were both in Nursing School and remained best friends, like sisters, until her death on December 3, 2017.  

Growing up, I always felt honored to be named after your friend but it was only when I became an adult, and spent time around the two of you, did I fully appreciate and understand this honor.  The bond, love and friendship you two shared was an amazing thing to witness.  You two shared so many adventures, triumphs and tragedies in your lifelong friendship. You remained best friends until the day she died and I know you miss her greatly.   I am honored and proud to be named "Janet" and I only pray that I can live up to her and do the name justice. 

Thank you for bringing us up in such a loving home. I never, ever doubted the deep love that you and Dad had for each other.  I know that times weren't always easy, but you always presented us with a united front.  You taught me that love is a commitment and you stay the course. 

Thank you for the great and clever Halloween costumes you made when we were growing up.  You made some pretty amazing costumes for me and Cathy!  You made Halloween fun for us and created some great memories. 

And Christmas too!  And every holiday...St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Fourth of July... every holiday had it's own tub filled with decorations. You took such great joy in putting out the decorations each year.  In fact, when it was time to go through your things and pack up the house to move, I do believe that you labored most over the tubs of holiday decorations.  You didn't want to get rid of anything. Even when Cat instructed you to hold it and ask yourself "does it give me joy?", you answered "Yes".  To EVERYTHING! 😊 And so the tubs came with you to North Haven. 

Thank you for that spring day when you and Bernie were waiting in the front yard for Cathy and me to come home from school.  Bernie was young, barely crawling, but you both were outside, sitting in the grass, waiting for us. I can still remember coming up the road and seeing you both there.  Such a simple thing, but look, I remember it and treasure it more than 45 years later.  

Thank you for always making sure that we sat down to eat dinner at the table every night.  When I say that now, it seems so old-fashioned and outdated, but it really was a strong bonding place while we were growing up.  It's sad that children don't have this and I believe that it is a loss for them.  I'm glad you provided us with that experience. 

Thank you for making sure that your parents were such a strong presence in our lives growing up.  Going to Prospect to see Vo-Vo and Feety, not only for the holidays, but all those times during the week, was special to me.  And again, one I didn't appreciate at the time, but I do now as an adult. I love that you wanted us to know your parents and I admired your commitment to them.

Thank you for being there that day as I was walking home in the torrential rain. You were a RN and you worked days while we were at school.  We lived too close to the high school to ride the bus (we were just under 2 miles) so we walked every day.  Both ways.  As a side note, we lived on 'Long Hill Road', so yes, we did walk up a hill everyday.  And the road was called "Long Hill" so it was, well, it was a tough walk home.  And we lived in CT so there was absolutely snow involved.  Anyway....

This one day I was walking home and you drove up along side of me and picked me up.  I won't embellish the story and say that you bolted from work to pick up your child so she wouldn't have to walk 2 miles, up Long Hill, in the torrential rain, but for some reason, I was soaked to the bone and you pulled up along side of me.  Just like that you were there.  I never expected you to be there. I never asked you to be there. But there you were. That feeling of seeing your car and getting out of the rain has never left me. 

Thank you for not forcing me to eat meat.  For as long as I can remember, I never really liked meat.  I didn't like the texture, I didn't like the idea of it, and honestly, the taste never appealed to me either.  I was around 11 or 12 when I decided this and you never forced me.  You made sure that I had the right things to eat, but you never made me eat meat. 

Thank you for not saying "Well, I hate you too", when I screamed "I hate you!!" too many times during those awful teenage years. 

Thank you for sending me jars of peanut butter while I was in basic training.  Every care package contained a jar of peanut butter.  You weren't going to have me go through basic training without peanut butter. 

Thank you for coming to see me graduate from Basic Training.  I appreciate that you and Dad came to Ft. Jackson even though it was later because I was hurt and on crutches.  You both made the time to come see me and I appreciate that.  That was one of the hardest things I had ever done to date, but it never occurred to me to quit, I knew you were both proud of me for joining and I wanted to make you prouder by finishing. 

And thank you for saving all the letters I sent home from my Ft. Jackson days.  You gave me the package with all the letters a while back and it was such a thoughtful thing for you to do - save them for me.  To be able to read the letters and experience basic training and my school training again...all those things I forgot. 

Thank you for letting me move back home when I left the house to go live with a boy that was awful and treated me badly.  And when I called 6 months later, you let me come back home.  That was an incredibly hard call for me to make and I'm glad (now) that you didn't make it easy for me.  I had hurt you and Dad deeply, but you didn't say "No" and you let me come back home. 

Thank you for the intervention all those years ago when my weight had gotten dangerously low.  I never saw it, I couldn't see it. But you saw it. And you needed to get me help. Thank you. 

Thank you for being the woman at the party wearing the sweatshirt with glitter, the hat that twinkles and the smile on your face.  Your love of life is contagious. 

Thank you for loving my friend Emil too.  You always asked about him and sent him cards.  You loved him because he was a good and kind person, but also because I loved him so.  His death really hit me and you felt the loss too. 

Thank you for remembering all our favorite foods and making them for us.  You know what cake, barbeque sauce and chips Austin likes.  You know what Leah likes for her birthday and what kind of drink all the grandchildren like.  You remember all those little details because it is important to you to make people feel loved.  

Thank you for making me proud to be your daughter more times than I can count.  When I worked at Elim Park, you were in charge of the South Wing.  I will always remember seeing you at work and seeing the respect you received.  Everyone from the other RN's, to the head of Administrations, respected you.  You deserved it.  You are the most ethical and honest person I know.  You never made a decision out of anger, resentment or spite.  Everyone knew that Nora Pech would treat you fairly.  You may not like the answer you got, but it was fair. And you can't argue with that. Bill is exactly the same way.  He is the fairest person I know, next to you.  

Thank you for welcoming my husband into the family.  When I introduced this man, who was 16 years my senior, all those year ago, both you and dad couldn't have been happier for me.  You always remember his birthday and our anniversary like he was your own child and that means a lot to me, and to him.  And when you come to visit us, seeing the two of you, two of my most favorite people in the whole world together, just makes me love you both even more. 

Thank you for watching Ginger for us all those times we went on vacation.  We never put her in a kennel and you came to our house and watched her.  

Thank you for sharing the guest room with Missy.  She is a bit of a brat and likes things the same way all the time.  But you let her into your room in the morning, way before you are ready to get up, just so she doesn't have to sit outside the door crying. 

Thank you for being such a good friend to so many.  Your loyalty to your friendships is an inspiration to me.  The fact that you have had friends for over 60 years, that blows my mind!  But I'm not surprised.  You came to SC and I introduced you to my friends, and now, they are your friends too.  Everyone loves Nora and they all ask about you and want to know when you are coming down again. 

Thank you for loving all four of your children the same.  You never pit us against each other or made us compete for your love and attention.  You love us all the same, and you love us all differently.  You allowed us to be individuals. 

Thank you for being such a cheerleader for everything I do.  Whether it's my cards, my writing, my photography or serving on a board, whatever I do, whatever I tackle, you never doubt my ability to do a good job.  Having you say "I am proud of you" means more to me than I can ever expressed.

Thank you mom, for all these things, and for all the million other things that you do for me and for so many other people.  I am the person I am today because of you.  Thank you. 💗

 

Annette Bening

I watched a nice little movie the other day called "Hope Gap".  It was released in May of 2020 and because it didn't contain super hero's, sensational car crashes or it didn't push a political agenda, it quickly faded away. 

Hope Gap is a real place and it is a beautiful stretch of cliffs in Sussex, there are stunning aerial shots of the cliffs and shoreline.  The story takes place in Seaford, which is a beautiful little village in London. "Hope Gap" is a simple little film about the end of a marriage and all the heartache that involves.  I'm glad I discovered this movie, not because it was that good of a movie, but because of Annette Bening. It was a fabulous movie because of her. 

Annette Bening is real in this role. She is 100% real. She has not botoxed her forehead, tightened her neck, or removed her smile lines.  It's that awesome!  Here is a woman who is 62 years old and is not afraid of looking 62 years old.  She is proud of looking 62 years old.  Fabulous!

How many times do you see magazine headings that flaunt this movie star's "secret for looking good at xx years of age"?  And then you look at the picture and she's not natural. There is nothing that she has done that is relatable to me, or I believe, to 75% of the female population. 

Or, if they want to be particularly nasty, they will say of the women, like Bening who chose not to fall victim to the trap, that they have "aged bad".  If you are allowed to age, you need to fall to your knees and be thankful. There is no shame in looking your age.  Own it. You earned it. 

Thank you Annette. 

Joy and Happiness at Aldi

I came across this story yesterday in my "Good Things" notebook.  I also shared it when I was on Facebook and I thought I would share with you in my blog.  It's from many years ago but I still remember that morning and just rereading the words bring me joy and happiness!  I hope it brings you a smile too! 

"I stopped into Aldi's yesterday morning to get some fruit.  It was supposed to be a quick in and out trip, but what a blessing it turned out to be!

As I was waiting in line, I hear a man shouting out greetings to the staff. Apparently he is well known here at this Aldi's because everyone was shouting greetings back to him.  I soon saw the source - it was an elderly Mexican man and he practically dances up to stand behind me in line.  I smile at him and I say "Good morning!".  I then ask him "Do you wake up like this?!"  He tipped his baseball cap and said "Yes young lady I do and I will tell you why".  

He then proceeded to tell me that every morning, when he wakes up, he thanks God for blessing him with another day and then he kisses his wife.  He then thanks God for blessing him with his wife. I ask him how long he has been married and he answered "Sixty-five years". 

He told me that everyday he plays two hours of tennis and then plays 8 holes of golf.  He then runs the errands his wife gives him before he returns home. I told him how awesome this was and I gave him a way up high high five. 

He continued:  "Do you know why I am doing all this?". He said "Next month I am going to be 89 years old and I want to party and dance all night long!".  And then right there he proceeded to swivel his hips and shuffle a dance.  I KNOW!  Adorable!

Well, I just had to give him a big, huge hug*.  He smiled and told me that I made his day.  Image that!  And here I was thinking that he made mine!"

* Before COVID when you could hug people 

Movement

"All You Need is Love". I believe that I have heard this Beatles song approximately 9,643 times in my life, plus or minus.  It's a great message isn't it?  "Love is all you need".  It's that simple: "Love, love, love.  Love is all you need".  Great song. Great message. 

But then there is this. Earlier this week, I was in my studio working and I heard this same song. But this time, instead of simply hearing, I listened, and I heard this line: "There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be".  I replayed that one line over and over and over again.  How did I miss this message?  All those times I heard this song and I missed this message?  I really needed to hear this. And it's been on my heart to share this with you. 

My message is not meant to diminish your pain or suggest that you simply "deal with it".  I know so many of your struggles and I would never suggest that reading a line from a song could make pain go away.  The message I heard was that this, this here right now, is necessary.  Necessary, but not a defeat or knock-down. Necessary, but not a call to do nothing. 

Gut-wrenching, heartbreaking "I can't do this" struggles can overwhelm you and overtake you.  But I believe in you. I believe in you because I know you have it in you to be strong.  I believe in you because I know your track record.  You did not get this far by standing still. I know because if you are reading this message, I value and treasure you and our friendship. And I believe in you. I see you and I believe in your strength.  

Don't judge or berate yourself because of someone else's agenda for you. Don't give up because you simply Can. Not. Do. One. More. Day.  But you can. You can because standing still is not an option in life. Even if you move slightly sideways, it's movement. And if that is all you do today, that is enough. Tomorrow you will move a little bit more.  And when you think you can't, you will see that you can, because you did. 

Please, do not allow your thoughts to defeat you.  You are strong and you have control over your thoughts and you do not have to accept anything that is robbing you of your joy, meaning or peace. You can acknowledge those thoughts, but you don't have to invite them in. Even if your movement for the day is to side-step that negativity, it's movement and I'm proud of you for that. And if that exhausts you, rest. Tomorrow you will try again. 

You aren't behind or forgotten.  You are where you are meant to be. Every step, every movement is necessary and important.  I believe in you. 

Wishing you a "Missy" Christmas

This year I sent out my Christmas cards with this picture of Missy.  It is one of our favorite pictures of her!  How do you not smile when you see this?

This little dog is just chock full of sass and spunk. She brings joy to everyone she meets.  Literally.  She brings joy.  I can not walk her in our neighborhood without at least one person stopping us to pet, well, more accurately, rub her belly. 

As soon as Missy spies someone, she is pulling on the leash with her back-end wiggling with delight towards the neighbor, UPS carrier, the lawn guy, the water meter reader etc... Missy LOVES everyone.  Everyone.  This little gal LOVES everyone she meets. 

Before we approach, I always ask the person if it is okay for Missy to come see them.  I have yet to have someone say "No".  It's true, no one seems able to refuse her and her gift of friendship. 

Perhaps they see the pure joy in her and her eagerness to spread it to them.  Perhaps, like me, they are dog people and will seize every opportunity to pet and love on a dog.  Whatever the reason, Missy gets love and the receiver gets a smile.  It's a win-win for everyone!

I included this picture in our cards, because, well, you know 2020 and all.  It was a year like no other.  I included this picture because it was our way of sending you joy.  It was our way of saying: We can do this. We can all put on our green bow tie, smile and spread joy as we head into 2021.  

Wishing you and all you love and hold dear a Merry Christmas and a blessed 2021.

Bill, Janet and of course, Missy Alden 

It's in the Details

My brother-in-law, Gary Guimond, besides being one of my favorite people, is an exceptional woodworker.  He is Bill's youngest brother and there is 11 years between them.  Bill, Rick, Robert and Gary are Betty's boys through and through.  They all have the strong ethic and character taught through a strong mother and woman.  

As I said, Gary is an exceptionally skilled woodworker.  He has always had an area in his house where he could work on projects for his home and for others.  He never did it professionally, but his work shows the skill and the care of a professional.

Gary and Carol moved to Lyman, SC in 2013, shortly after we did.  The home that they purchased had a large garage which was soon expanded to create a full woodshop for Gary. It wasn't long before he was fully operational and he began working on pieces for their home. 

He soon started working on small pieces; toys, cars, dogs, crickets, spinners, ping pong shooters and little pull toys. At first glance, so simple, yet so perfectly crafted, so exceptionally finished. Carol and Gary were going to do the Farmer's Market and events that occur almost every weekend here in the Upstate of South Carolina.  

We have been at the shows where Carol and Gary set up a booth, and it is always so well stocked and displayed.  Gary's "job" was production and Carol's was "marketing" and they both did their job perfectly.   There were always children at their booth.  In a world where every toy is made to make noise and engage a child with a screen, there is no greater pleasure than witnessing the wonder of a child with a simple wooden toy.  

The spinners Gary creates are always so popular too.  At the face of them, you don't take into consideration the level of work they require. It isn't until you looked further at the perfectly cut pieces, the precision of all the edges and the careful painting that you recognize and appreciate Gary's skill. This is typical of Gary.  He puts so much attention into the details.  

Visits to their home usually involved a trip out to the woodshop to see Gary's latest creations.  A stop in the shop always delighted the senses.  To see all the various stages of work. To smell all the fresh cut wood and to feel the sawdust under foot. Gary works very precisely, and the shop is organized with all the different stages of production.  I always walked away amazed.  He works efficiently, as one who pays attention to detail.  It is evident everywhere in that shop. 

Gary is not one to boost or brag.  He does good work, excellent work, but when you point it out to him, he waves it aside.  He's uncomfortable with the attention on himself, with the praise for his skill.  He is aware of his skill, but he doesn't enjoy the spotlight on himself.  It's much more than that for him; he does what he does because he enjoys it.  He does what he does because he has a giving heart. 

After doing the shows for years, Carol and Gary have a routine and have developed steady customers. Their booth is always a favorite and they do very well wherever they go.  

At the shows, Gary is the 'muscle'.  He unloads the tubs and toys and Carol sets up the display.  After the booth was set up, Gary tried to fade into the background.  Carol was the saleswoman and Gary is there at the end of the day to help load up the truck - he didn't need any more than that.  He was more comfortable having Carol interact with the customers.  But I've been to the shows, Gary doesn't fade into the background, Carol will not allow that.  Carol is quick to point out the master of the toys and he always appreciates and thanks the compliments.  

It was during one of the shows that they met Amy Moore.  Amy is the owner and craftswoman behind Inglenook & Co.  Amy started out making handmade soaps and quickly ventured out to candles, men's products and whimsical handmade items.  Gary started making wooden soap dishes for Amy, and over the course of four years, he has supplied her with more than 1,000 dishes.  Amy was so pleased with his work that she asked him to design and create a wooden cart that she can use for her shows.  It needed to be sturdy, practical and able to be moved easily.  It also needed to be attractive because after it was used to haul the supplies, she would use it for display.  Not an easy task, but she went to the right man.  Gary created that first cart for her and then went on to create three more for her.  I've seen the carts. They are perfect from the wood he chose, the corners, the durability and the finished surface. Gary's skill is evident in every inch of his work. 

In addition to the woodworking, Gary loves working in their yard.  They have both created a wonderful oasis of vegetable, fruit trees and flowers.  Sprinkled in are bird baths, bird feeders, whimsical metal art and fountains.  A visit to their house usually included me walking around with my camera taking photos of all the beautiful blooms and views. 

They both love to garden, and they are both good at it.  They take the time to learn the plants, the soil, the exact conditions needed to grow their tomatoes, snap peas, figs, cucumbers, zucchini and peppers. Every year they had enough to eat, share and store for the winter.  We are fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of their bounty and we most appreciate, and enjoy, their efforts. 

As beautiful as the the outside of the home is, it is the inside where you feel the true love.  As soon as you walk in the front door, you feel at home. We've been to their home more times than I can count, and each and every time, we are greeted with hugs from Gary and Carol.  The very first step into their home fills you with love and welcomes you. 

And then you smell something wonderful cooking.  Both Carol and Gary love to cook, and they are good at it.  Whatever they are baking, you can almost guarantee that it contains something that they grew in their garden.  Carol and I are both vegetarians, and Carol attends to our portion of the meal.  Gary takes care of Bill - he usually has a steak or burgers ready to go out on the grill. 

As you walk further into their home, and into their kitchen, you see the dining table all laid out with the best of everything:  napkins, glassware, silver and china.  Carol has many beautiful pieces from her family and she is a master at using them.  Every detail has been attended to, and is perfect. 

We spend a lot of time outside on their back porch.  We are so comfortable and content in each other's company and we relax, tell stories, and eat.  We sit, drink wine and beer and snack while we watch Missy and Sammy chase each other around the back yard.  We feel so at ease with each other, it has become a treasured friendship. It's such a perfect spot, their back yard, their home, and it is because they created this heaven.  They put a lot of thought into making it comfortable, not only for their use, but for their guests as well.  

Carol is a gem.  She has become such a dear and close friend not only to me, but to Bill and Missy too.  She has never come to our house without a toy for Missy.  Missy remembers things like that! Missy adores Carol and Carol adores Missy.  

Carol is the perfect match for Gary.  She is strong, yet gentle and she completes Gary in ways that make them both whole. Gary has softened and slowed down in the years with Carol.  To be in the company of them both is to know that they share a deep love and a deep friendship. 

Because of COVID, most of the shows that Carol and Gary had scheduled were cancelled.  That left them with a lot of toys.  A contact at Shriner's Children's Hospital arranged to have all of the toys delivered to the children just in time for a Christmas party that they were having for the children.  To have all this fall into place, and for all the children to have a new handmade toy created by Gary - I can think of no greater gift.  

First glance and you think you have Gary figured out.  Tall, bearded man.  Dressed in flannels and jeans with a Miller Light in his hand.  But you have to look closer or else you could miss the details.  The love that he found in Carol and his life in Lyman, his delight in creating and sharing his work, his garden, his home. 

Unlike his toys, Gary is not "polished around the edges" but make no mistake, he is suited and content with his edges.  It's the edges after all that help make up the person, that make up the man that he is.  It's when you get past the edges that you glimpse the man.  Go beyond the edges and you are rewarded with a kind heart, a dear friend and a good man.  Gary you are loved. 

Things We Keep - Jinny

This is Jinny.  I received her as a gift for my first Christmas when I was five months old. This year Jinny will be 58 years old. 

I was told that when Jinny was new, she was covered in a soft velvety material and she had white plush fuzzy 'fur' around her face.  The only remnants of the velvety material is right behind her legs, where it hasn't worn off.  The white fur is long gone and the material worn thin. I have to keep Jinny under glass to lessen the further deterioration of the brittle fabric.  

Why did I keep Jinny for all these years?  She is not particularly cute, nor cuddly.  In fact, as Bill has pointed out, she is a bit scary.  "It's the plastic face" he says.  He's right of course, she is not a "sweet" doll.  

I'm not even sure that she was sweet when she was new, but yet I kept her.  Every single seam on Jinny has been repaired.  And her face has remnants of markers - thanks to my older sister Cathy, but yet I kept her. For more than 50 years. 

I don't remember carrying Jinny around everywhere I went.  I also don't recall tea parties with her and my other dolls either.  I really don't have any special memories of Jinny except for one.  It was when I around 5 or 6, I was crying at the side of my mom while she repaired Jinny with a needle and thread.  I have that proof of my love for Jinny, and of my mom's love for her child who wouldn't go to sleep without Jinny.  

Jinny is the oldest thing I own that belongs to me.  Through 11 household moves, Jinny has stayed with me.  While I have a difficult time connecting feelings of love to her, I have an easy time applying sentimental feelings for her.  Jinny has made it with me for 58 years, she deserves to be preserved for the next 50 years. 

In my house I have many items that have no direct connection to me.  I pick things up at estate sales, flea markets and auctions.  Other people's belongings - other people's memories.  I have their photos, their diaries, their autograph books from grade school and their Christmas cards.  I have their embroidered linens, quilts, their leather luggage and their china tea cups.  So many treasures that belonged to someone else have found their way into my home.  

I see these items at estates and it hurts my heart to think that there was no one in the family that wanted these 3rd grade report cards, these quilts, these photos.  I feel bad and I take them home.  Someday, when relatives are going through my belongings, they will hold up an item and ask "Is this something?".  Someone will inspect it further and say "Doesn't look familiar" and it will get added to the 'Yard Sale' pile.  

Perhaps they linger longer over my scrapbooks and pause to turn the pages.  They will see all the silly Calvin & Hobbes comic strips, the poignant quotes and the pictures from magazines that brought me joy.  They turn a few more pages, and find a locket of red hair from my niece Kelsey's first haircut, a picture my now 47 year old brother Bernie drew when he was 6, and a birthday card Bill's oldest granddaughter Rebecca drew when she was 8.  Six large scrapbooks full of delightful little nuggets of joy that have no monetary value but which mean the world to me.  

And then they find Jinny.  They will see that she was kept under glass and someone will say "This, this here must be a real treasure".  

Dogs in Cars

Dogs in cars.

Bird nests.

Sweet pink diaries with little keys.

Clean sheets hung on the laundry line.

A gentleman tipping his hat.

Starting a new book.

Skeleton keys.

Handmade quilts.

Sharpening a pencil with a hand cranked sharpener.

Big fat blueberries.

Baby toes.

Homemade peach ice cream.

Families dressed for church.

Kind Phlebotomists.

Smiles that reach the eyes.

The morning sky.

Hummingbirds.

A music box with a twirling ballerina.

Heartfelt compliments.

Gospel choirs.

American Flags.

Baby shoes.

Small towns.

Children's giggles.

Libraries.

Grilled cheese at a 24-hour diner.

Sunrises in Key West.

Making someone laugh.

Kindness.

A wave from the front porch.

Double rainbows.

Helping someone in need.

Sunlight through stained glass windows.

Saying "thank-you".

Beautiful penmanship.

Marching bands.

When someone tells you are good at something you love doing.

Naps on a Sunday afternoon.

Plaid flannel shirts.

New paint brushes.

Dimly lit rooms with candles flickering.

Church bells.

The first night back in your own bed.

Glass door knobs.

When a young child draws you a picture.

Sharing a smile with a stranger.

The sound of rain on the car roof.

When you call someone and they say "I was just thinking about you".

Comfortable silence between friends.

So many delightful pleasures to discover each and every day.  Wishing you a day full of your own pleasures.