Word for the Day - 2020

Love

When February comes along our thoughts go to LOVE.

The song comes to mind when embracing this word.

"What the world needs now is LOVE, sweet LOVE."

In the middle of winter the color of red and love just reach out

and grab us in our dreary, grey cloud days.

We crave the colors of spring time and blue skies.

It is often said that "Love is in the Air".
An ad came in my inbox this morning with those very words.
My thoughts immediately came "I hope so",
as we need more love in the air these days.
We need a healing of spitefulness, anger, corruptness, and the flu.
I pray for more love and understanding and healing around the world.
So let's send out the love today and each day going forward.
I can visualize each of us sending loving thoughts around the world,
thoughts of love go to you from me.

A Mother's Hands

These hands belong to my aunt, but were so much like
my mother's I asked if I could take a picture of her hands.

A Mother's Hands

I used to think: her small hands

Spread on her apron, are,

One, like the morning planet;

One, the evening star.

(Yet so seldom quiet-

Much, much to be done

For a home, a family,

Between a sun and sun.)

I used to think: they twinkle,

As she knits, she sew,

Takes bread from the oven,

Tends gay posy rows.

I used to think...but now that

God has strangely willed

A mother's precious, busy hands

Be heart-breaking stilled,

I wonder, was she called thence

Because He needed her-

Oh, not more than we-for tasks

Even starrier?

~Kitchen Sonnets by Ethel Romig Fuller

I haven't shared one of her poems for awhile.

She was poet laureate of Oregon many years ago.

My "live-in gardener" and his mother.

My daughter and her son.

Mothers hands hold precious ones, safely in their arms.
A smile, a look of wonder surrounds a mother and her child.

Happy weekend, dear friends!
Hope you are having a good one.

A Very Special Teatime

 In winter time there usually is one teatime by the fireplace.

Yesterday was that day.

A day not too cold, but just right to sit for awhile and nibble.

 There was a bit of sipping too, tea in fact.

A lovely tea from India called Sungma Organic Musk, a second flush 2018 Darjeeling.

 An old family quilt served as a tablecloth.

Vintage teaware is my delight.

And a painting of roses, a bouquet from France.

 The nibbles were egg salad, always my favorite, and toasty hot mushroom on toast.

 Then a carrot cupcake with chocolate hearts on top,

a definite nod to the upcoming Valentine's.

What inspired me to make teatime in the middle of the week you say?

This old recipe box I have had sitting on my shelf for years.

One of my favorite tea sandwiches comes from this box; 

so I decided there must be more to explore.

So from time to time I will share a recipe as I try them.

Today was Hot Mushroom and I loved it.

The box comes from the very first time I went to afternoon tea many years ago.

A friend took me to the lunchroom of the Palo Alto Auxiliary at the Allied Arts Guild

in Menlo Park, California. The lunchroom was a non-profit project to maintain beds

for children at the Children's Hospital at Stanford University.

The Recipe for Hot Mushroom tea sandwiches:

2 cups chopped mushrooms, do not chop fine

2 green onions including some of tops, chopped

1/4 cup butter

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup flour

white wine

1/3 cup sour cream

Saute mushrooms and onion in 1/4 cup butter. 

Cook about 2 minutes.

Add flour and cook 2 more minutes.

Combine mushroom juice with white wine to make 1 cup liquid,

add and cook 3 minutes. Cool. Add sour cream.

Spread on toast and broil.

My toast was cut with a heart cookie cutter,

but you cut the bread any way you would like.

Enjoy!

Take an afternoon off in the middle of the week
and have tea.

Word for the Day - 2020

Stroll,
A walk; A daycation. Dance from Wikipedia

Now I hadn't thought of a dance when the word came to me this week,
but indeed I remember that dance many years ago.
So a dance it will be. Can you imagine strolling down these trails?
I think I must love paths to stroll because looking through my pictures there were many paths.

Corey of French La Vie blog wrote recently: "A flâneur is someone going for a stroll, taking in the sights and sounds of the streets and possibly having some elevated thoughts as they do it. It has a sense of sophistication, possibly even intellectualism, as it originated in the 19th century when only the monied classes had the leisure time to take aimless strolls."

Now I had started this post before I saw Corey's post, but
her words were just to good not to repeat. Thanks, Corey!

Secret, tucked away places and then avenues that beckon us.

Both in the country and in the city strolling is beckoning.

Do you love a country lane for strolling?

Come with me and let's take a stroll.
I can almost hear strolling music, can you?
Stroll just forms romantic thought more than a simple walk.
Listen to the music and stroll, dear friends!

https://www.filmsforaction.org/watch/today-i-rise/

I am sure I have shared this poem before, but some days it just has to be shared again.

In the video there is the girl with the broken wing attempting to fly,

there is the woman walking to the podium,

and the mother comforting her child.

I am all of those things and so much more.

You are all of those things and so much more.

We must be willing to embrace our power

and hold it our precious hearts and hands.

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou - 1928-2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
 I rise.

 Happy weekend, dear friends!

Blossom

 


                          "Suddenly I realize
             That if I stepped out of my body I would break
                   Into blossom."    ~James Wright

 In the middle of winter we need blossoms.

 Do you pick them up when walking through the market?
I do quite often, because I need them in the dark days. 



 What do you do to make it through winter?

I found this comment on Instagram @valentiphoto

this week and just loved

the permission to photograph beauty in flowers.

"So, never think your work doesn't "count" because you're 
photographing flowers, cuddly dogs, loved ones smiling, and glorious 
vistas. Where would we be without those things? Pretty is medicine. 
You're doing important work. You're reminding the world that joy is 
sacred, that delight is inherently valuable, that peace is at hand. I 
can't think of anything more powerful or worthwhile." ~Instagram 

JOY is sacred, indeed! 

Each of these pictures came from my garden

last June! Isn't it great we have this

to look forward to this coming June?

I love it!!! 

Word for the Day - 2020

 Query, a form of inquiry - wikipedia

A question used for reflection and spiritual exercises among members of the Society of Friends.

A word quite familiar to me, as I have been in the Quaker tradition for many years.

I realized it might not be as familiar to you and wanted to share.

Each of our meetings for worship has "queries",

questions for us to reflect on.

Here are queries from yesterdays worship:

How do I understand "being blessed" personally?...

"Being blessed" as a nation?

When I'm in the midst of persistent conflict, where do I find hope?

As you might notice I often end a blog post with a query.

I hadn't realized it was because that is what I am use to as a Quaker

or if it is just common nature to end with a thought question (query). 

Is this a word you are comfortable using?

Wasn't sure what picture would fit the word query,
but this picture just feels like reflection to me.
Have a great week, dear friends!