On the road to healing with Minions, music and happy day bouquets!
What a fantastic way to send flowers long distance! I received this ‘Bouquet in a Book’ in the snail mail a few days after my foot surgery from my blogger sista & co-honorary Manc bud, L.Marie.
Totally unexpected. Thoughtful. And fun.
Just like she is đ
I’m sharing my ‘adult’ pop-up book bouquet with all of you because it just might help to make your day a happy day, too – along with Stuart Minion (UKE ready to play), my jazzman Dad in spirit (represented by the statuette), my Ma’s outrageous lilies (one in a series of color studies), and a framed color copy of an art postcard I bought long ago of William H. Johnson’sBlind Singer (which has an interesting story behind it for another time).
Saw the Doc the other day to get my stitches out (ick, but whew, glad thatâs done) and Iâm on the next leg of my foot surgery recovery. Yep, that was an awkward pun đ
In three weeks Iâll be out of the Boot and closer to getting back into my ânormalâ shoes – which implies getting back to my more ‘normal’ exercise routines. We’ll see. Until then, I discovered a fantastic YouTube Video by a youthful exercise coach on exercises that can be done while serving time in the Boot.
Caroline Jordan’s, Hurt Foot 30 minute Total Body Workout was filmed entirely while in the Boot during her own ‘hurt foot’ recovery. Already, Iâve kept up for about 15 minutes at a time in different sections of the 30 minute routineâŚnot bad for a lady of âSixty Phoâ! HA! If nothing else, I should develop wicked upper arm strength (and possible sculpting), even if those glutes are neglected due to circumstances beyond my control.
Now excuse me while I do the last of three sets of TOE exercises my Doc ‘prescribed’ for me to do on a 3x’s daily basis…
Winter Solstice: a day with the least amount of sunshine potential; the shortest day and longest night; a time of reversals.
To me, the Winter Solstice feels more like the ending of the past year with the dawning of the true ânew year.â Â An organic New Yearâs Eve, so to speak. What better time to reflect on the past year, letting go and easing into the ânew yearâ as each day from this point in time gains length.
With these reflections comes the announcement that this will be my final posting for 2018 with an undetermined first post date for the upcoming year. Thatâs just my convoluted way of saying Iâm taking a blogging break!
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That said, let us continue.
In reviewing my Morning Pages* over this past year I realized it has been a full and satisfying 12 months. No family or close friends died or declared any horrific medical diagnosis, the selling of my folksâ house went smoothly and the settling of their estate is almost completed, we visited and celebrated with family members and friends throughout the year and throughout the country, and the scary emergencies we did encounter were accompanied by His âpeace that passes all understandingâ as we walked through those life-paths.
It seems we landed in a junction of respite from several years of elder care, personal pain, disappointments, grief and such.
Fielding the good with the bad, several themes** emerged as well â often revealing forward movement on goals, desires, hopes and dreams; working through the ups & downs of life; grappling with deeper issues in living a purposeful life.
Why then this lingering sense of sadness?
Is it the darkness? The longer nights and shorter days? Grey black skies, claustrophobic fog?
Not really.
I relish this Winter Solstice evening – prolonged darkness, giving permission to hunker down, and delve into soul searching, validating this yearning to be still and listen to what the Lord through His creation and past events is speaking to me.
Then what is contributing to this heaviness, this disheartening sense of impotence in making a difference in life’s inequities?
Ah yes, of course. Events over this past year, worldwide and oh-too-to-close-to-home local happenings.
Never ending hordes of everyday people fleeing their beloved homeland for a safe place to stay aliveâŚSyrians, Central Americans, Africans…
Governments killing their own citizens in the name of advancing their own personal agenda.
Free world border ‘wars’ using displaced, desperate persons, families & children as fodder for unwinnable negotiations.
Increased homelessness in the midst of hardworking middle class professionals â and all the ramifications of undeserved shame while struggling to continue to survive in an ever increasing hostile American society.
Constant bombardment of Trumpian Temper Tantrums affecting everyday Americans (sorry, I don’t normally specify political opinions…please give me latitude during this Winter’s Solstice)
And yet, this is all not newâŚthe poor have always been with us, the rich and powerful have always manipulated laws to benefit themselves, increasing their wealth and opportunities, to the detriment of everyday people, and, what of the ever presence of war â always with us.
1968 was a bad year – Vietnam War, numerous assassinations, student protests…Decades earlier, WWII, Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, the Holocaust…
The worldâs suffering is so personal.
It hurts.
And yet, I am reminded:
“God wastes nothing – not even our darkness”
*from which I am taking an indeterminate break also, after 28+ years of faithful jottings!
**my music, hubby’s new business, finding home, strengthening relationships…
Got this postcard from our son Joe in the snail mail a few days ago.
Welcome to the 21st century, Vietnam and Baby Boomers!
 The slogans written on the VW bus are as follows:
Make Phoâ Not War
Draft Beer, Not boys
Peace
all we need is peace
Love
Hoian (Quang Nam Province)
War is expensive, Peace is priceless
And the best for last:
Vietnam against War (using the V and W in the VW logo)
Coming of age during the Vietnam War, the country itself has never held any appeal for me to visit. Dove or Hawk, protester or soldier, the war in Vietnam was complicated. The dread of the draft during wartime isnât too much understood these days as we have an all-volunteer army which implies a desire to be involved in the military in some form or another during times of war and of peace. Those days, enlisting was an option that meant a guy of draftable age could at least choose a branch of the military in which to serve. Hubby chose the Navy.
As such, while hubby served during the Vietnam War, his assigned job as a naval optical man. Heâs very adamant about making the distinction that heâs a Vietnam era Vet, not a Vietnam Veteran in deference to those who did indeed serve their tour of duty in Southeast Asia.
Anyway, I have to admit our sonâs month long trip hiking, biking and scootering the entire length of Vietnam starting in the North and ending in the South, opened my eyes to its natural beauty, culture, native coffees & foods, and as a travelerâs destination.
Like many of you, I was first introduced to those fresh Vietnamese Noodle Bowls in the 1990âs and graduated to the more complex flavors of Pho’ in recent years. So now, Joe’s fun postcard entices me further as he wrote on the back â
Move over Pho – here comes Bun Bo Hue!
âI found a pho-sibling that is equally delicious! Bon Bo has a deeper roast flavor to the brothâŚother delicious dishes to look out for are Bohn Beo, Bahn Khoai.â
Yum! I’m all in!
Darn – I donât think those selections are on any menu around here in Florence, SC. I even double checked via google since FloTown has been changing in recent yearsâŚto be fair. However, I did find in the google search a single listing of a Vietnamese Restaurant that debuted in 2015 and closed down in the same year.
Just sayinââŚIâll keep a keen eye for these dishes elsewhere.
Meanwhile, as for the use of Phoâ as a word in the blogpost title rather than as the name of a delicious dish – How did you mentally pronounce the word Phoâ? Faux or Fuh?
Hint: the correct pronunciation of Phoâ helps one to understand its relationship to the Sixty in the title of this post and will become evident as you continue to read onâŚnext time in part two…
Sometime In July, writer Sue Ranscht of Space, Time and Raspberries nominated me for the Eclectic Blogger Award. She’s the creator of the serial fiction series, Elliot’s Adventures. I’ve enjoyed reading these stories and heartily recommend them to readers of this post.
Started by The Shameful Narcissist, the Eclectic Blogger Award  ââŚis presented to those blogs that are both eclectic and engaging, where conversation flows freely, where new and different ideas are always welcome. Itâs to recognize blogs that always have interesting content to match the amazing, creative, and hard-working creators that make them possible. These are the blogs that inspire you to read, watch, play, and/or create content to further enhance not only the blogosphere but also the general zeitgeist, because they themselves enrich it with their existence.â The Rules
Nominate whomever and however many bloggers you want for the award.
Share links from your blog for some of your favorite (or most eclectic!) posts.
Lauraâs addendum: I am including links to some of my favorite posts on these nomineesâ blogs.
Been back from CO since Saturday the 4th âŚ
My folksâ house got listed Thursday the 2nd, then officially on the market on Friday the 3rd  with a Saturday the 4th Open House which yielded lots of foot traffic and 2 possible offers leading to an all cash offer on its 8th day on the market!
On the phone with my cousin a few days before returning to SC, I mentioned I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bedâŚand then when we finally rolled into town a little after midnight, we discovered mice had been at play while we were away – leaving calling cards in that very bedâŚAIEEEEE!
All this after admitting to my baby cousin that âHome is where your bed is!â(a major positive affirmation to where we are currently sojourning)âŚtalk about a humbling re-entry into life back in the swamplands.
MamaCass & Naomi on our front porch
Previously, leaving our little rental house in SC for any length of time, MamaCass stood guard on the porch; grabbing the critters, both rodent and insect, for snacks before they could saunter inside. Now that our beloved porch cat has a permanent home on the other side of town with a proper cat lady, we came home to an empty porch ânon-greetingâ.
And, with our little rentalâs insides newly discovered by resident rodents.
Since our return, weâve been busy de-mousing the premises and trying hard to not skimp on those necessary procedures even if weâre tired, sleepy and needing to clean and dry clothes/bedding/rags with a non-functioning dryer no less. Read: wash at the house then take it all to the laundromat to dry (new dryer installed Wednesday the 8th).
Really things are okay, just that this place that never ever felt like home is even less so without MamaCass on so many levels.
And on so many levels her life reflects our own since moving here:
Up and out after our 3 years between homes; her life of producing litters of kitties after kitties â rescued and put on a more healthy life path.
Trusting that where we are is where the Lord wants us regardless of it not being the best fit for our true needs/desires/way of life; her trusting us to give her a place of refuge on our porch, even though she wanted to come inside â a time of healing and reconnection, regrouping for what is next.
Giving support and caring for each other as a âpurposeâ during the interim â our commitment to moving on only when our newest responsibility had a real home (our landlord forbids pets, so we could never formally adopt MamaCass, even though we captured her and got her snipped after her second litter appeared on our porch). She is a true South Carolina MamaCat and would not have done well moving with us across country when the opportunities for us opened up.
The fact that sheâs finally got a forever home and moved on in her life gives me hope we are close to moving on with our own lives, too.
Godâs speed, MamaCass â wish us luck!
“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.” Proverbs 12:10 NIV
My cousin Dennis taking us for a boat ride on Lake Waco, TX
As hubby alluded to in the last post, we went to Colorado via the âlong wayâ earlier this May. First driving for 17 hours straight through to Waco, TX to visit my baby cousin and his family (and to do some business with a colleague in Houston).
Then off to Las Cruces, NM (a breezy 10 hour drive) – land of hubbyâs adolescence, our newlywed life and âthe compoundâ.
A favorite spot to wander the desert in Las Cruces, NM
LCNM revisited (thoughts)
Sometimes ya gotta be away before ya can come backâŚor at the very least appreciate what ya left (for whatever reason).
Iâve always had a love/hate relationship with this place known as Las Cruces, New Mexico. Town where we moved for hubby to finish his degree at NMSU after we first got married; place filled with his side of the family or in other words: my in-laws. Not inherently a bad thing, just harder to make oneâs mark on a new marriage when there are lots of others hovering overhead. Plus life in married student housing was fun except for the crash course in the myriad varieties of roaches and ants harbored and lurking within the requisite 300 square foot cinderblock wallsâŚ
Our first-born was indeed born there, in fact, she was the first baby born for the New Year that year (1982). Cool. We couldnât wait for all the diapers and other baby items everyone said the city would be bestowing upon us because of that incident of nature; we really needed the help with that kind of stuff being poor students and allâŚexcept the year before, the city made such a big deal over Baby New Year that it backfired on them since there were some shady relatives, legal circumstances and secrets now publicly revealed surrounding the family that innocent baby was born into.
So, no freebies for us, though we did get a great write up in the local newspaper and enthusiastic announcements on several of the local radio stations.
Oh well, didnât matter much since we left for the Bay area soon after hubby graduated – within the first month of our Havilah’s life – to pursue his new job at HP (Hewlett/Packard) as a little family without either side of our families too near. And thatâs when we grew the most as a three-some; and when our hearts yearned to be closer to both our familiesâŚgo figure!
After a few days we were back on the road. The familiar I-25 trail took us to Colorado in the usual 9-10 hour time frame. Also, since we know that route by heart, it is less stressful in terms of placement of rest stops and timing on the one gas fill-up necessary to complete the journey.
Bruno’s Purple Giants – Irises in the family and transplanted in our various gardens for almost 50 years (last vestiges shown here in a corner of Ma&Dad’s neglected garden)
Once at Ma & Dad’s place, the dominoes aligned into classic form, readying for that one touch to start the tumbling of items needed to get their estate settled.
For good.
Now that most of the sorting and sifting of the stuff of lives has been completed, I still have much to do to get the house ready for listing, but as a professional real estate agent told me: âYouâre on the right pathâŚalmost there.â
After a mere 10 days back here in SC for already-on-the-calendar doctorâs appointments/tests and other commitments, weâll be heading out again to Colorado, land of my (he)art, gearing up and plowing through to the finish line to âgit âer done*â with all things related to selling the house.
The housing market is rich with possibilities, wish us luck. * thank you Anna for lending me this phrase On the day before this year’s Summer Solstice, I’m leaving you with a bit of Manc Music in honor of the turning of seasons. Here are Mancunian native sons, the Courteeners, withSummer.
Many months ago I was rooting around on the internet looking into some music. I happened to come across a young jazz saxophonist named Grace Kelly and was watching her Livestream studio session. I started watching the video and really enjoyed her enthusiasm and music. I thought of our son Joe who is a jazz saxophonist also, but I decided not to send him a link to it as he was off touring New Zealand/Fiji/Australia at that time and wasnât sure how good his internet was. I also thought of my late father-in-law who had died less than a year and a half before. He also was a jazz saxophonist who played with Benny Goodman and other greats in Chicago and who up to nearly the time that he died was always looking for new trends/music.
On the third song of the Livestream, Grace started explaining how she had come to write the song she was about to play. What she said, and more importantly what she played and sang touched a chord in me. I knew then that the song she wrote was a song that described how I felt about Laura and that that song was going to be our 40th anniversary theme song (not just our 40th but our lifelong song). Our anniversary was still many months away, so I tucked this song away so I could share it with Laura during our anniversary.
I started researching Grace Kelly a little more and it turned out that she was going to be playing in Las Cruces, New Mexico on May 27th. It just so happened that I lived in Las Cruces during high school, went off to serve in the Navy and after the Navy came back to Las Cruces to go to college. While in college on a co-op assignment for NOAA in Boulder, Colorado I met and married Laura and we moved back to Cruces to finish my college education before moving on.
We were planning a trip to Colorado to take care of business in early May and I wanted to go to New Mexico to both see Grace Kelly and to visit my parentsâ graves. The timing seemed to be aligning to be able to spring on Laura this song at a Grace Kelly concert. Las Cruces is not a tremendously large town so I even hoped to run into Grace somewhere around town so that I could request that she play the song for Laura (not like trying to find Mr. T on Mulholland Drive or in Bel-Air or Hollywood â inside family story).
Unfortunately, our plans changed and we needed to go to Texas for business purposes before we went to Colorado which meant that we would end up in Las Cruces weeks before Grace Kelly was going to play. Knowing this I sat down with Laura before we left, told her that what she was going to see was the way I felt about her and that it was our anniversary song. I put the Livestream on our TV and jumped to 19:03 for the beginning of the story and the song. We sat there and watched the song (multiple times) trying to hold back the tears of our love for each other.
There are some songs that have a special meaning to me about Laura, like Leon Russellâs âA Song For Youâ and now Grace Kellyâs âFeels Like Homeâ.
Our anniversary this year falls on Fatherâs day and I canât think of a better Fatherâs day gift than sharing this song which beautifully expresses the way I feel about Laura.
Laura shortly after found the song (sans Graceâs explanation) which is shown below. The full video is here, start at 19:03 for story before song.
Thank you Grace for this beautiful song and thank you Laura for a lifetime of âFeels Like Homeâ.
Note: to all of you who took the time to comment on my last post, thank you. I usually respond promptly and directly to each comment made on my blog posts. However this time, I felt that allowing  your voices to stand alone in response to our collaborative poem enabled the mood and message of the moment to linger.
the warmth of sunshine upon their cheeks;
the cold of dug snow-forts and candy-land castles.
For all the children who will not know
the slurpy free love of an old faithful mutt;
the drooly mouth kisses from kids of their own.
For all the children who will not know
the joy of youthful wanderings;
the joys of returning home.
Laura Bruno Lilly
~ 22/5/2017 ~
The flowers bloomed early
and were cut down by a cruel frost.
We all came together
– but at what cost?
For what was gained canât be measured
against what was lost,
and those children will never know.
