As the days become longer and warmer, Spring is as close as our next thought. I'm itching to see things grow and bloom, but my gardening zone advises to wait until May to begin planting outdoors, once the threat of frost has passed. It's not easy being patient when the birds are singing, the sun is shining and the grass is greening.
I've been combing over seed and plant catalogs dreaming of my garden this year which in addition to vegetables and herbs will also have some companion flowers. Some will be for cut arrangements, but others to thwart the invasive insects who have designs to chomp the tender little seedlings. To assuage my impatience, flower delivery can bring the love of the outdoors and garden into my home without risking a gardening disaster.
It's worth the time to properly care for the plants and ensure a beautiful garden. Over the weekend, I did do some prep work, tilling the soil, mixing in a winter's worth of compost and gazing lovingly at the earth, waiting for the day I can put my seeds and seedlings in the ground for a season of growth.
Do you garden? What do you like to grow; flowers, vegetables or herbs?
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Monday, March 19
Friday, March 9
Bursting Into Song Randomly...
For newcomers, I confess I'm a huge fan of musical theater. I love the opportunity to suspend my belief that people burst into song randomly. In fact, I think the world would be hugely improved if we did!
It occurred to me to catalog the shows I've seen, some on Broadway, some in Community Theater, some on a High School stage, and even a few on television (though it really defeats the purpose of live theater, so that category has an asterisks). I'm lucky enough to have children who love performing so some of the listed shows, I've seen multiple times.
I know I've missed some... but this is my somewhat inclusive list.
It occurred to me to catalog the shows I've seen, some on Broadway, some in Community Theater, some on a High School stage, and even a few on television (though it really defeats the purpose of live theater, so that category has an asterisks). I'm lucky enough to have children who love performing so some of the listed shows, I've seen multiple times.
I know I've missed some... but this is my somewhat inclusive list.
- Wizard of Oz*
- Godspell
- Man of La Mancha
- Guys and Dolls
- Damn Yankees
- Rent
- West Side Story*
- Annie Get your Gun
- My Fair Lady *
- Jesus Christ Superstar
- Big River
- Dreamgirls
- Chicago
- Caberet
- Jekyll and Hyde
- Oliver!
- Fiddler on the Roof
- Sound of Music
- Phantom of the Opera
- Les Miserables
- Anything Goes
- Bye Bye Birdie
- Once Upon a Mattress
- Seussical
- Hairspray
- Footloose
- Oklahoma
- The King & I*
- Gypsy
- In the Beginning
- Annie
Monday, February 27
Perspective, Use it or Lose it
A few things swirling in my life this week have given me a renewed opportunity to keep perspective. As a freelance writer, I frequently am looking for work. Projects tend to be short lived or even single opportunities. When a long term project comes along, it's freelance nirvana. Until that project changes.
It's a delicate balance, trying to remain flexible and yet stay working. One of the most important lessons I've learned is that the only person who is right is the one signing the checks. It's a tough lesson to absorb, but that's the reality. When you freelance, you are at the mercy of your contractor.
Something that occurred to me is that I'm well equipped in this economy. I know how to keep looking for work, even when none seems to be on the horizon. I'm not the first causality of cost overruns or project shifts, nor will I be the last.
I feel like a proverbial boy scout, needing to be prepared. Expect the best but prepare for the worst.
How do you keep perspective in uncertain times?
It's a delicate balance, trying to remain flexible and yet stay working. One of the most important lessons I've learned is that the only person who is right is the one signing the checks. It's a tough lesson to absorb, but that's the reality. When you freelance, you are at the mercy of your contractor.
Something that occurred to me is that I'm well equipped in this economy. I know how to keep looking for work, even when none seems to be on the horizon. I'm not the first causality of cost overruns or project shifts, nor will I be the last.
I feel like a proverbial boy scout, needing to be prepared. Expect the best but prepare for the worst.
How do you keep perspective in uncertain times?
Online News
Author: Elias Massey
We used to have three newspapers delivered to our house every day. We had a local newspaper, a state newspaper, and a national newspaper. Needless to say, we never had time to read all of those newspapers and they usually piled up in our garage until my husband took them to be recycled. I decided this year to cancel all of our newspapers and start looking at the news online. I actually did not think about reading online newspapers until my grandfather told me that he reads the news online every day. We recently got a new internet provider by searching “clear internet inglewood”, so it made more sense to me to read the paper online rather than paying for three newspapers to be delivered to our house every day. Now I am able to sift through the sections of the newspaper and read the articles that I am interested in very easily. My husband also loves it that we no longer have piles of newspapers in our garage that he has to haul to a recycling venue. Overall, online news is very convenient.
Friday, February 17
Snips and Snails & Puppy Dog Tails
... that's what little boys are made of...
As a parent of Sugar & Spice, and everything little girls are made of, I tend to spend most of my time with girls. But as the sister of Snips & Snails, I can relate to boys pretty well, and it takes me back in time to being the "big sister".
My day yesterday was filled with younger men. In fact, the combined ages of all three males still are about 15 years younger than me.
It was a busy day for me. I was out and about all day then I had a shift at the hospice house at night.
During the day, I taught in the city. I had a class of smart little 6th graders. Great kids... were excited, attentive, and polite.
One little guy came up to me during a break and announced how much he was enjoying the class, he wanted to learn more about this. How thrilling was that? He was smart as a whip. We were discussing an overview of the global economy and I mentioned the trade embargo with Cuba, and he raised his hand and asked "was the because of the Bay of Pigs"? This is a 12 year old! Then at the end of the class, he asked if I would be back when he was in 7th grade. I told him I don't have control over my assignments, but that I sure would enjoy that. He shyly stood there as I packed my stuff up and asked if I would like help carrying my stuff to my car before he went to lunch. I told him I had to go back to the library with the rest of the volunteers, but that I could use his help finding it. He walked with me chattering excitedly about how he wants to study international business and he couldn't wait to study the book I gave him, etc. etc. I admit, I had a tiny little crush on this earnest young man.
The rest of my day I was smiling at his offer to help me.
When I got to hospice, I saw two young boys in the children's playroom. I popped in and introduced myself and asked if they needed anything. They said they were okay. A few minutes later I mentioned to the nurse what nice and well behaved boys they were and she said, "oh their mother is in such and such a room, she will probably pass away within the 24 hours".
My heart collapsed. I looked in again at the innocent little boys who undoubtedly knew what was happening but were vanquished to the playroom while the family kept vigil. As a volunteer, I am trained to only work with what I am told, not to pry. I don't know why their family decided not to let them in the room. But they were in the playroom the entire 2 hours. After about an hour, I popped back in, and said, "would you boys like some ice cream?" We have an honor kitchen (it's stocked with food and a coin jar to pay for what you take). They jumped for joy so I went and bought them each a little cup of ice cream. I sat and visited with them while they ate the ice creams and thought how tomorrow if not soon, these little cherubs may lose their mother. They told me about Harry Potter and living on a farm and their cat with three legs. She went out in the woods with four, came home with three. When they were done with their ice cream, they both said thank you and cleaned up their spots. I saw their dad later and told him how good the boys were.
My heart was so incredibly moved by my trio of "snips and snails", although upon reflection it may not be puppy dog tails, but rather kitty cat feet. Now if we can just put them in a time machine and see if they turn into the wonderful young men they are today. The future looks pretty good.
As a parent of Sugar & Spice, and everything little girls are made of, I tend to spend most of my time with girls. But as the sister of Snips & Snails, I can relate to boys pretty well, and it takes me back in time to being the "big sister".
My day yesterday was filled with younger men. In fact, the combined ages of all three males still are about 15 years younger than me. It was a busy day for me. I was out and about all day then I had a shift at the hospice house at night.
During the day, I taught in the city. I had a class of smart little 6th graders. Great kids... were excited, attentive, and polite.
One little guy came up to me during a break and announced how much he was enjoying the class, he wanted to learn more about this. How thrilling was that? He was smart as a whip. We were discussing an overview of the global economy and I mentioned the trade embargo with Cuba, and he raised his hand and asked "was the because of the Bay of Pigs"? This is a 12 year old! Then at the end of the class, he asked if I would be back when he was in 7th grade. I told him I don't have control over my assignments, but that I sure would enjoy that. He shyly stood there as I packed my stuff up and asked if I would like help carrying my stuff to my car before he went to lunch. I told him I had to go back to the library with the rest of the volunteers, but that I could use his help finding it. He walked with me chattering excitedly about how he wants to study international business and he couldn't wait to study the book I gave him, etc. etc. I admit, I had a tiny little crush on this earnest young man.
The rest of my day I was smiling at his offer to help me.
When I got to hospice, I saw two young boys in the children's playroom. I popped in and introduced myself and asked if they needed anything. They said they were okay. A few minutes later I mentioned to the nurse what nice and well behaved boys they were and she said, "oh their mother is in such and such a room, she will probably pass away within the 24 hours".
My heart collapsed. I looked in again at the innocent little boys who undoubtedly knew what was happening but were vanquished to the playroom while the family kept vigil. As a volunteer, I am trained to only work with what I am told, not to pry. I don't know why their family decided not to let them in the room. But they were in the playroom the entire 2 hours. After about an hour, I popped back in, and said, "would you boys like some ice cream?" We have an honor kitchen (it's stocked with food and a coin jar to pay for what you take). They jumped for joy so I went and bought them each a little cup of ice cream. I sat and visited with them while they ate the ice creams and thought how tomorrow if not soon, these little cherubs may lose their mother. They told me about Harry Potter and living on a farm and their cat with three legs. She went out in the woods with four, came home with three. When they were done with their ice cream, they both said thank you and cleaned up their spots. I saw their dad later and told him how good the boys were.
My heart was so incredibly moved by my trio of "snips and snails", although upon reflection it may not be puppy dog tails, but rather kitty cat feet. Now if we can just put them in a time machine and see if they turn into the wonderful young men they are today. The future looks pretty good.
Monday, January 23
Fragile as a Bird
Some of you will remember that I am a hospice volunteer. It became official last November. Since then, all my patients have died, save one, who, while I'm assigned to her, I've never met her. Fact is, she has a network of loved family members and the only folks she needs from hospice are the "true professionals".
As a volunteer, I can only assist a trained pro, clean a house, or run errands. Or visit a lonesome patient. I'll be honest, I'm ambivalent about that role. While relatively new to the program, at times it seems I'm a burden, not a help. My first patient died the morning after I was assigned to her. My next patient, loved company and had frequent family visitors. Also, honestly, she had a horribly inconvenient schedule. It was hard to mesh with mine. Due to the medications she took, she slept most days until noon. She didn't want visitors until after lunch and yet, I needed to be home shortly after 2. I always felt I was rushing our visits, but before I could really address it with my coordinator, she died.
My latest patient really doesn't want to see me, or so it seems. I don't take it personally. She has visitors. Every time I call she has no need for my services. Were I given the choice be sick and dying near loving friends or caring strangers, I'd opt for friends, also.
But then last week, I was assigned to the local Hospice House. The turnover is rapid, for rather obvious reasons, and the house has 16 rooms. We aren't given details as volunteers. Our only job is companionship so all we are told is that they need a friend. I cannot say names as we are bound by strict confidentiality agreements. I would never compromise my patient's privacy.
My newest friend is like a bird, tiny and frail with a faraway stare. She talked a lot but rarely made sense. I don't know what her condition was but I'd guess some sort of dementia. She kept looking for someone, the entire two hours. She was strong enough to walk so she held my arm and we walked the entire building, looking for him. Him, as I understood her, was someone who was coming to visit her. Every time my little friend saw a man walk by she perked up and wanted to talk to him.
She asked me to push her around the building again. We'd pause and visit and believe it or not, laugh. She would sometimes become so excited and animated, that the fact that she made no sense word wise was transcended,and the two of us just sat in the lobby laughing hysterically with some inside joke. So inside I didn't even know it, but I knew she was happy. I held her hand with the gnarled joints and paper thin skin, and we laughed. Her eyes shined. My shift was nearly over so I took her back to her room and held her hands in mine. I told her I would come to visit her again soon, and that I hoped the angels kept her company. In one moment of clarity, she looked at me, eye to eye, and said, I'm ready to be with them. Her clarity began to fade and I kissed her forehead. She looked at me and said, "I love you." I hope she makes it until my next shift.
You see, I love her, too.
As a volunteer, I can only assist a trained pro, clean a house, or run errands. Or visit a lonesome patient. I'll be honest, I'm ambivalent about that role. While relatively new to the program, at times it seems I'm a burden, not a help. My first patient died the morning after I was assigned to her. My next patient, loved company and had frequent family visitors. Also, honestly, she had a horribly inconvenient schedule. It was hard to mesh with mine. Due to the medications she took, she slept most days until noon. She didn't want visitors until after lunch and yet, I needed to be home shortly after 2. I always felt I was rushing our visits, but before I could really address it with my coordinator, she died.
My latest patient really doesn't want to see me, or so it seems. I don't take it personally. She has visitors. Every time I call she has no need for my services. Were I given the choice be sick and dying near loving friends or caring strangers, I'd opt for friends, also.
But then last week, I was assigned to the local Hospice House. The turnover is rapid, for rather obvious reasons, and the house has 16 rooms. We aren't given details as volunteers. Our only job is companionship so all we are told is that they need a friend. I cannot say names as we are bound by strict confidentiality agreements. I would never compromise my patient's privacy.
My newest friend is like a bird, tiny and frail with a faraway stare. She talked a lot but rarely made sense. I don't know what her condition was but I'd guess some sort of dementia. She kept looking for someone, the entire two hours. She was strong enough to walk so she held my arm and we walked the entire building, looking for him. Him, as I understood her, was someone who was coming to visit her. Every time my little friend saw a man walk by she perked up and wanted to talk to him.
Finally a nurse explained to me that her husband had been her caretaker but fallen ill so she was admitted to the hospice house. She couldn't tell me how long she was married or how many children she had, but I understood perfectly that she was looking for her man. She got confused and even thought he was on the TV as we walked past one.
The evening wore on, and it was time to get her ready for bed. Her aides came to the room and changed her into a nightgown. She hated having her legs and her increasingly swollen ankles and feet show, so they sat her in a reclining wheelchair and covered her legs with blankets.
She asked me to push her around the building again. We'd pause and visit and believe it or not, laugh. She would sometimes become so excited and animated, that the fact that she made no sense word wise was transcended,and the two of us just sat in the lobby laughing hysterically with some inside joke. So inside I didn't even know it, but I knew she was happy. I held her hand with the gnarled joints and paper thin skin, and we laughed. Her eyes shined. My shift was nearly over so I took her back to her room and held her hands in mine. I told her I would come to visit her again soon, and that I hoped the angels kept her company. In one moment of clarity, she looked at me, eye to eye, and said, I'm ready to be with them. Her clarity began to fade and I kissed her forehead. She looked at me and said, "I love you." I hope she makes it until my next shift.
You see, I love her, too.
Wednesday, January 18
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