Celebrate

Some of us are celebrating spring, others are celebrating new jobs, new babies, new loves, or new homes.  Here, for your reading pleasure, are ten quotes about the art of celebration.  Which is your favorite today?

1. "Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can."  – Danny Kaye 

2. "The best way to pay for a lovely moment is to enjoy it."  – Richard Bach

3. "There is no security in this life. There is only opportunity."  – Douglas MacAurthur

4. "Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.” – Joanne Harris

5. “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” – Dr. Seuss

6.  "All of life is an experiment. The more experiments you make, the better." – Ralph Waldo Emerson"

7. “Life is far too important to be taken seriously.” – Oscar Wilde

8. “One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching.” – Gerard Way

9. “Always leave enough time in your life to do something that makes you happy, satisfied and joyous. That has more of an effect on economic well-being than any other single factor.” – Paul Hawken

10. "Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words." – Plautus

Cheers!

Snow Day!

It's the third snow day in less than a week, here in Missouri, and I wanted to share the magic.  There's something about snow days that bring out the kid in everyone.  What a weird phenomenon -- first crouching around the radio or T.V. to be extra sure your school or place of business is, indeed, closed; then the celebratory jig or sigh; then the "free" day to spend shoveling, cooking, eating, playing.  Former U.S. Poet Laureate Billy Collins nails the essence of a snow day in his poem bearing the same title.  Enjoy!

 

Snow Day

By Billy Collins

 

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,

its white flag waving over everything,

the landscape vanished,

not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,  

and beyond these windows

the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost

under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.

In a while, I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,

and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,  

and I will shake a laden branch

sending a cold shower down on us both.

 

But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,
a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.
I will make a pot of tea
and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,
as glad as anyone to hear the news

that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,
the Ding-Dong School, closed.
the All Aboard Children’s School, closed,
the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,
along with—some will be delighted to hear—

the Toadstool School, the Little School,
Little Sparrows Nursery School,
Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School  
the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,
and—clap your hands—the Peanuts Play School. 

So this is where the children hide all day,
These are the nests where they letter and draw,
where they put on their bright miniature jackets,
all darting and climbing and sliding,
all but the few girls whispering by the fence. 

And now I am listening hard
in the grandiose silence of the snow,
trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,  
what riot is afoot,
which small queen is about to be brought down.

Billy Collins, “Snow Day” from Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems (New York: Random House, 2001). Copyright © 2001 by Billy Collins.

 

 



Double rainbows to you

Who doesn’t marvel at the wonder of a rainbow?  There’s something about seeing such colorful grandness arching overhead that makes all of humanity stop and stare.  And a double rainbow?  Well, that must just bring twice the good fortune.

We recently spotted this double delight while at our son’s and new daughter-in-law’s wedding in Colorado.  We were conversing during the rehearsal dinner, everyone thrilled with the light rain that was falling then (instead of the next day at the outdoor nuptials), when the natural phenomenon was spotted.  Oh, my, we all gushed.  Surely this portends extra special good luck for the happy couple.  And because we thought it, it is true.

Since that day, this picture has beckoned to me more than once. 

A good friend’s mother was celebrating her 91^st birthday and my friend asked 91 people to send her mother birthday wishes.  Their address?  Rainbow Road.  Of course, I sent a copy of this picture in my card.

A dear mentor of mine recently celebrated her birthday.  She’s given me the comfort and wisdom of her old-soulness, in ways I’ll never be able to repay.  But, she reads this blog.  And, so, I can offer her this double rainbow of good wishes.  J

And, lastly, we just heard about the death of a very special aunt.  As we prepare to bury her and to say our goodbyes, this picture, again, makes its way to the group of us.  We feel lighter looking at it, as if we’re connected, again, with our loved one who has joined the spectrum of light.

It’s time for me to pass the double rainbow on, and so, I give it to you.  Take from it what you need and keep it for as long as you like.  Then deliver it to others who will make good use of it.

 

Cruising . . .

My Sweetie and I are planning a little cruise vacation -- our first.  It's going to be a shortie -- with two days at sea and two days visiting Nassau and Key West.  I know, I know.  You're either going to say, "What took you so long?" or "Are you crazy?"  I'm both excited and nervous.  Will we get sea sick?  Will we get crowd sick?  Will we get sick because we're eating mediocre food twelve times a day? (Hopefully, we'll be able to operate with some level of gastrointestinal rationality!) 

We've heard all sorts of warnings and must-dos, of course, from "Go ashore every chance you get to save your equilibrium" to "Book the special ship restaurant four months early to save your stomach linings." 

So, I ask you, what do we need to know?  What should we do?  What shouldn't we do?  What do you wish you knew before you went on your first cruise?  Will you every cruise again?  Will you ever talk to me again now that you know my future vacay plans? 

And, perhaps, most importantly, what the heck should we pack so we don't freeze, broil or die of embarrassment? 

Thanks for your feedback, your advice, your warnings . . .

Happy Earth Day!

You've heard it a million times already, but here's one more reminder for the road -- The world is in our hands.  It is in all of our hands.  Take care of it.  Do your part.  Plant a tree.  Recycle.  Put up bluebird houses, or bat houses.  Compost.  Carry a sack to the grocery store . . . or?

What are you doing for Earth Day?

Chocolate

Oh, my darling 85% dark cocoa dream!  I must have you every day.  And, it seems that I am in the majority since, according to the latest chocolate manufacturer’s data, 90% of Americans say they have some chocolate almost every day.  So, the average person eats 11 ½ pounds of chocolate a year, which means that over 600,000 tons of chocolate are consumed annually throughout the world. 

What about you?  Do your consumptive habits support these statistics?  If so, how do you partake?  Mini bits of chocolate chips?  Bars with nuts, caramel or coconut?  Spoonfuls of pure cocoa powder at midnight? 

Enjoy the Darkness

Happy Winter Solstice -- the official day when the axial tilt of the planet's polar hemisphere is farthest away from the star it orbits. Our star, of course, is the sun, and the Winter Solstice officially marks the shortest day and longest night of the year.  It's no wonder that light reigns supreme during this season.  Whether the glow comes from the soft flicker of Hanukkah or Kwanzaa candles, a roaring fire in the grate, or the the twinkle of Christmas trees, we all need the comfort of a little extra illumination about now.  But, don't chase away the magic of darkness completely.  Enjoy the peace and velvet quiet inherent in the longer nights.  Sleep deeply, rest, and breathe in the serenity of this deep, dark winter, even as you light it up. 

"Sleigh Bells and Ink Wells" Blog Hop

Are you ready to hop?  Take this tour of 12 blogs -- some you may already know and some new ones.  It's easy.  It's fun.  It's a good Friday diversion.

*******

‘Tis the season, you know, for giving and receiving – mostly for giving, though, right?  But, what is the nature of true giving?  How does one define generosity?  Philanthropy?

As is often the case, my idol, Fanny Fern, has already written the perfect seasonal column about this very topic.  Who is Fanny Fern?  Fanny Fern (the pen name of Sara Payson Willis), was one of the most successful, influential, and popular writers of the nineteenth century. A novelist, journalist, and feminist, Fern (1811-1872) outsold Harriet Beecher Stowe, won the respect of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and served as literary mentor to Walt Whitman. Scrabbling in the depths of poverty before her meteoric rise to fame and fortune, she was widowed, escaped an abusive second marriage, penned one of the country's first prenuptial agreements, married a man eleven years her junior, and served as a nineteenth-century Oprah to her hundreds of thousands of fans. Her weekly editorials in the pages of the New York Ledger and other periodicals over a period of about twenty years chronicled the myriad controversies of her era and demonstrated her firm belief in the motto, "Speak the truth, and shame the devil."  

As part of the “Sleigh Bells and Ink Wells” Blog Hop, my blog will introduce you to the real-life writing of the heroine of my historical novel Shame the Devil.  Her typically-sarcastic June 5, 1852 article, published in Boston’s The Olive Branch, follows:

Mistaken Philanthropy

“Don’t moralize to a man who is on his back;—help him up, set him firmly on his feet, and then give him advice and means.”

There’s an old-fashioned, verdant, piece of wisdom, altogether unsuited for the enlightened age we live in; fished up, probably, from some musty old newspaper, edited by some eccentric man troubled with than inconvenient appendage called a heart!  Don’t pay any attention to it.  If a poor wretch—male or female—comes to you for charity, whether allied to you by your own mother, or mother Eve, put on the most stoical, “get thee behind me,” expression you can muster.  Listen to him with the air of a man who “thanks God he is not as other men are.”  If the story carry conviction with it, and truth and sorrow go hand in hand, button your coat up tighter over your pocket book, and give him a piece of—good advice!  If you know anything about him, try to rake up some imprudence or mistake he may have made in the course of his life, and bring that up as a reason why you can’t give him anything more substantial, and tell him that his present condition is probably a salutary discipline for those same peccadilloes!  Ask him more questions than there are in the Assembly’s Catechism, about his private history, and when you’ve pumped him high and dry, try to teach him—on an empty stomach—the “duty of submission.”  If a tear of the wounded sensibility begins to flood the eye, and a hopeless look of discouragement settles down upon the face, “wish him well,” and turn your back upon him as quick as possible.

Should you at any time be seized with an unexpected spasm of generosity, and make up your mind to bestow some worn-out old garment, that will hardly hold together till the recipient gets it home, you’ve bought him, body and soul; of course, you are entitled to gratitude of a life-time!  If he ever presumes to think differently from you after that, he is an “ungrateful wretch,” and “ought to suffer.”  As to the “golden rule,” that was made in old times; everything is changed now; it is not suited to our meridian.

People shouldn’t get poor; if they do, you don’t want to be bothered with it.  It is disagreeable; it hinders your digestion.  You would rather see Dives than Lazarus; and, it is my opinion, your taste will be gratified in that particular,—in the other world, if not in this!

--Fanny Fern


Ha!  You said it Fanny!  To learn more about Fanny Fern and my historical novel about her, click here: Shame the Devil.

To continue onto the next “Sleigh Bells and Ink Wells” blogger, the amazing Malcolm R. Campbell, click here: Malcolm’s Round Table.  From Malcolm’s site, you’ll be directed to hop to the next blog until you finish the whole short, wonderful tour of twelve blogs.  Enjoy! 

“Sleigh Bells and Ink Wells” blog hop participants are authors of small press/university press books that are eliciting discussion and notice.  Blog hoppers include:

Smoky Zeidel @ Smoky Talks

Patricia Damery @ Patricia Damery

Debra Brenegan @ Debra Brenegan, author

Malcolm R. Campbell @ Malcolm’s Round Table

T.K. Thorne @ T.K.’s Tales

Anne K. Albert @ Anne K. Albert

Elizabeth Clark-Stern @ Elizabeth Clark-Stern’s Blog

Collin Kelley @ Modern Confessional

Sharon Heath @ Sharon Heath

Melinda Clayton @ Author Melinda Clayton

Ramey Channell @ Sweet Music on Moonlight Ridge

Leah Shelleda @ After the Jug was Broken

Coming to you: Friday, Dec. 16th

You're Invited to a

"Blog Hop"

Read about new books

Read about new authors

Get ideas for your holiday gift list

Visit some new, quality blogs

Enjoy!!



Simple Pleasures

They say the best things in life are free.  When you think about it, our lives are laced with hundreds of simple pleasures – little perks that satisfy and sooth, that make life seem A-Okay. 

Here’s a partial list of life’s little niceties:

A new toothbrush

Sleeping in on a rainy day

A baby’s smile

Making all the traffic lights

Fresh flowers – delivered

Finding money you didn’t know you had

Clothes that fit just right

Receiving a snail mail letter

The smell of bakery air

Hearing the right song at the right moment

Stars on a clear night

Saying the same thing simultaneously

Snow Days

The first bowl of cereal from the box

Fresh bed sheets

Drowsing in the sun with a light breeze

A good laugh shared

Spying your favorite bird at the bird feeder

When the workout is over

A sunset

What are some of your favorite simple pleasures?  Take a minute and add to the list!

The Joys of a Hot Bath

In The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath writes about the pleasures of a hot bath from the perspective of the novel’s narrator, Esther Greenwood.

Plath writes:

“There must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them. Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die, or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say : “I’ll go take a hot bath.”

I meditate in the bath. The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water’s up to your neck.

I remember the ceiling over every bathtub I’ve stretched out in. I remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. I remember the tubs, too:  the antique griffin-legged tubs, and the modern coffin-shaped tubs, and the fancy pink marble tubs overlooking indoor lily ponds, and I remember the shape and sizes of the water taps and the different sort of soap holders.

I never feel so much myself as when I’m in a hot bath.

I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near onto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don’t believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.

I said to myself:  “Doreen is dissolving. Lenny Shepherd is dissolving. Frankie is dissolving. New York is dissolving, they are all dissolving away and none of them matter any more. I don’t know them, I have never known them and I am very pure. All that liquor and those sticky kisses I saw and the dirt that settled on my skin on the way back is turning into something pure.”

The longer I lay there in the clear hot water the purer I felt, and when I stepped out at last and wrapped myself in one of the big, soft white hotel bath towels I felt pure and sweet as a baby.”

- From: The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath

I couldn’t agree more.  In fact, during this hectic season when the holidays press and the end of the year work worries loom large, schedule some quality time with your bathtub, like Sylvia Plath’s Esther Greenwood does. 

The Best and Worst Halloween Candy

It’s that time of year again – time to feed sugar to the little monsters and princesses and super heroes and hobos who come a’ringin’ your door bell. 

True, some people don’t give out Halloween candy. Some people are like the dentist who used to live in my neighborhood who handed out toothbrushes. And, some people are like the dentist’s next door neighbor who handed out pumpkin-shaped erasers. And some people don’t turn on their porch lights and sit in their basements watching T.V. so as not to be bothered by the little darlings. But, you are not those people, are you?

If you give out toothbrushes or erasers, I am awed by your treat-giving integrity – something I do not have on Halloween. And as much fun as it was trick or treating as a kid, it is much more fun, in my opinion, handing out the treats. It’s warmer, for one, and you get to pick your treats –meaning you will like the leftovers.

This year I’m giving out mini 3 Musketeer, Snickers and Milky Way Midnight bars. And I’m sure hoping there are some leftovers, not to mention being secretly relieved I will never again have to eat those icky black and orange wrapped peanut butter things or nasty bit-o-honeys as long as I live. Remember those burnt orange globs that looked like spiky raspberries (but tasted like burnt orange)? Or the candy cigarettes that tasted like damp chalk? And don’t get me started on black licorice (yuck) or those gummy Dots. Worst candy of all? Those wafer things that all taste the same (pressed powder with a fake-sugar aftertaste).  Extra double gag to the black licorice wafer things which taste worse than any of the other wafer things and make regular black licorice seem okay.

What are you giving out to trick-or-treaters this year?  Do you have an old favorite standby candy?  What was your least favorite Halloween treat?