New Today !

All 4 eggs have hatched!! They cannot yet make noise, nor are their eyes open. The focal beam of my camera makes the one open his mouth. The opening of the nest is less than 3 inches across, so it is nearly impossible to get an image inside. I knew you would want to see as soon as possible. As they grow to overflowing, pix will come easier.

For "Busy Mama"

My home is full of mismatched furnishings, knit together by sentimentality. I recently read that this is a sign of an artist. I find a lot of comfort within my home. The arts & craft style chair once belonged to my paternal grandfather, himself a photographer. The similarly styled bookcase held my father's college texts as he & his bride worked to build a life on the GI Bill. The blue couch reminds us of new friendships. Countless pieces bring to mind long-held friendships & laughter. The bulky, tiger-grained, oak buffet recalls my mother's childhood days...of the Dust Bowl & the Great Depression. The blue recliner was a gift from my dying father-in-law to his dying wife, Juanita. It would bring her comfort in her last days without him by her side. Passed down from her mother-in-law, our century old, wooden rocker is a relic from the Willard Hotel in Washington, D.C. In her last days, Juanita gently rocked in this chair. She told me stories of soothing her baby (my husband) in this chair & assured me that I would one day rock a child of my own in it...& I did. The odd bookshelf that holds my sons' toys once held mine....


Society has so many double-standards. It seems perfectly acceptable to loudly proclaim how "skinny" someone is or to give a lecture on the evils of nicotine addiction & yet, one dare not mention the obesity of the orator. This double standard also shows up in the keeping of one's home. Over half of our culture would be classified as right-brained, globals, who find comfort in apparent "chaos". The left-brained, analytics, with their spartan orderliness find it necessary, even their right, to judge & lecture the rest of us. I actually find "collectors" to be more frugal, less judgemental, & far less materialistic than many who keep an "orderly home".


I love to say, "Pardon the mess, but we LIVE here". In left-brain homes, my soul cries out, "Don't you DO anything (besides clean?)" Look at the forest & fields, the coastlines, & even the skies. God may bring order out of chaos, but He created a world brimming with richly packed treasures. That's what "watching" & "attention to detail" is all about.

Not Every Day....

My son had a nightmare last night & in the morning said that he wants to live in D.C. He explained that with the president there, they have lots of tanks. He asked if S.C. has tanks & I said that we do. No sooner had I said that when the phone rang. It was my brother. He was on his way to work & passed a train loaded with tanks. It would soon pass our home. London & I rushed down to see it.....



There were over 100 !!!! How is that for timing !?!

Perhaps......

Sometimes I avoid something due to an anticipated, negative outcome...only to find myself in the midst of the conflict I had imagined. Suppose God has allowed things to unfold in order to give me new eyes. Despite my attempts to the contrary, perhaps He even led me there to alter my my faith, or my beliefs about a situation, or even about people. Perhaps.....
(Who said being a Christian is an easy out?)

Night Lights

My spirit rails against leaving home. I just hate to leave, but I love being away & travelling. The night before I left for D.C., I was anxious. My husband had rearranged his backyard lighting & I decided to relax in the pool. I turned on all the floating, colored lights, including a new one that spouts a colored fountain 18" high. I also lit the torch, to keep insects at bay. I called up to my husband, "Oh, pool boy ! This would be even more wonderful with a fruity, wine cooler.... in the fancy, [tacky], flowery, pineapple cup...." My wish was granted. I floated and relined, with the colored lights playing on my closed eyelids. The cicadas & frogs sang for me. The fireflies twinkled through my drifting lids. It was all good.