Happy Easter

This is the field next to my Mothers house. These wild Easter lilies come up every Spring. No bulbs were ever planted, it's just one of those things...

 

A verse from the book of Matthew chapter six verse twenty eight comes to mind...

Consider the lilies of the field...Even Solomon in all his glory did not clothe himself as beautifully as these

 

 

Wishing you a beautiful Easter Sunday.

Letting Go.

CharlieBean and his little boy, fifteen short years ago...

CharlieBean and his little boy, fifteen short years ago...

It’s a rainy morning here in "mostly always sunny south Florida”. I’m sitting out on our screen porch, which is my favorite place to be when it’s raining. I’m missing my “side kick” that usually accompanies me in this morning adventure. When I wrote the bio for this website, I wrote about how on most days you can find me back here on the porch, with my trusty companion… “My fifteen year old killer Cockapoo, CharlieBean-dog.” He would sit right next to me with his head pressed up against my thigh. This has been his behavior since the day he joined our family fifteen short years ago. He was born a cuddle pup.

 

No leaving drinks around, He'd help himself to them.

No leaving drinks around, He'd help himself to them.

It has been about a year and a half since C.B. lost his sight and over the last six months he began to experience hip problems. As I talk with friends I hear this diagnosis more often than not. It seems to be the way it goes for our senior dogs these days. My Charlie-boys heart and lungs were strong, and he just kept going. But things had gotten progressively worse since the holidays and I kept wondering if I was going to be required to make that sad drive to the vet’s office one day. I prayed diligently that he might just go to sleep one day and not awaken, but that was not to be. 

A few people said to me, “You will know when its time” or “He will let you know.” Well, earlier this week, those prophetic words came to pass, and He did, and I knew. 

If there has ever been a peacefulness in one of these last trips to the vets office, then I guess we had one, and I’ll leave it at that.

Last summer Charlie made his senior road trip with us to Asheville. 

Last summer Charlie made his senior road trip with us to Asheville.

 

Meanwhile, Mr.Wonderful and I are lost, feeling like empty nesters all over again. We didn’t realize just how much our duties with C.B. had begun taking over our time. Yesterday, I stayed away from the house for as long as I could, and then when Mr.W got home we left again, trying to avoid the emptiness that awaits us here. "This is going to take some time" I hear from friends. The loss of a pet is the loss of a family member. My Charlie was my sons puppy when he was twelve years old. These dogs usually stay on with you when your children leave home, and fill the void left behind. In them we still have a piece of our children’s childhood and the promise that they will return home to visit and everything will be as it was. For others that have no children, their pets are their children. I have many people in my life like that, and losing their pets has been devastating for them. It’s just such a hard thing, no matter what.

About two weeks ago, I began writing a letter to myself about letting go. One of those exercises you learn in counseling, church camp or writing courses (funny, who knew there would be a correlation between those things?) I have struggled so much with the practice of “letting go” in my own life, so this is certainly no exception. If I’m in your life, chances are you’ve known me for most of your life, I don’t give up too easily. Anyway, I share these words from that letter here with you today. Maybe it will be helpful to you in some way. Meanwhile, I’ll be here on the porch missing my companion and writing to you from our little yellow house.

Letting Go

How do you know, when its time?

In a marriage, a friendship, a family pet, a job, a home, a dream not fulfilled?

It’s hard to move on…

Feelings to consider, the feelings of others, obligation, guilt, tangled circumstances. 

Tough things that each of us have to face in our lifetime.

There is no clock, no calendar, no real right or wrong

Each circumstance is unique

But if you listen with your heart

You will know the time   

And you will take comfort in knowing:

That you have tried your best

Given it your all, Served with your whole being

Loved with abandon and that you are being true to your own self

Release

Release with the same hands with which you’ve clutched to it so tightly

Relax and let go of the negative talk that seeks to ridicule you in your own mind

Cling tightly to the sweetness that remains

Burn the fond memories into your very being

And let all else dissolve 

Leave the rest behind

With a sweet abandon

Walk forward and go on

  

My sweet Charlie Bean.

My sweet Charlie Bean.

 

  

Living a COLORFUL Life of COMPASSION-Changing Out My C's

Dear Reader Friend,

I've noticed lately, the angst that seems to build within me at times. I catch myself getting irritated for small reasons. I cut myself off from social media and the television for a day or two at a time, allowing myself peace and quiet from the turbulence. I am all for agreeing to disagree. We all have different persuasions, that's not it so much as the negative, "snarky" posts on social media, the blasts on the news. It's not the way I want to fill my day, my world, my mind, or my physical well being.

I was standing in the check-out line at our local supermarket yesterday. A woman got in line behind me and I was immediately taken by the sight of her hair, it was beautiful. I kept talking to our cashier "Robin", she and I always chat when I come in. As I was about to leave, I turned to the gal behind me and said, "Your hair is beautiful", there was a second where she seemed stunned and then, "Oh, thank you so much!"

I exited the store, conversing with Rob, (the guy that carries out my groceries) about his kids coming from Connecticut next week. I stopped for a group of Japanese tourists that seemed to be lost in the parking lot. I noticed within myself a peace, and a feeling of camaraderie with my fellow man (woman) and realized I was smiling.

These kinds of events don't happen daily for me, and I guess that's the point I'm about to get to...You knew I was going somewhere with this, right? Why can't they happen everyday? I began to think about changing out my C's... To give more Compliments rather than Criticism. 

What if ...EACH DAY, I could live a more colorful life, one of non-competition, co-existing with others in camaraderie...

When I feel  that my words are sounding caustic, I try to extend COMPASSION?

Every time I start to criticize, I switch it up to a COMPLIMENT?

Instead of critiquing with my eyes, I look beyond with my heart... to CARING

Whenever I feel combative, about to challenge someones opinion, method, political or religious persuasion-I CONSIDER their way?  What if I am COURTEOUS and respond with "I'm going to give that some thought" What a lovely way to COMPLETE A CONVERSATION.

When I feel that green eyed monster of condemnation, I can switch it up to give someone or myself, a COMMENDATION!

These are challenging ideas that will take some work on my part. I'll have to practice holding my catty remarks and switch up my behavior to being COURAGEOUS! There's no room for the CHICKEN HEARTED in this exercise!

Wherever you are, whoever you are, I hope you know that you are beautiful, gifted and cared about from afar. I hope your day is gentle, colorful and glorious.

Blessings, Towandagal-KayLou

P.S. Let me know if you think of some other C's we can switch up!

Vegetable Garden in a TUB.

It's getting to be that time again, time to think about a veggie garden. While I know that many friends are still under a blanket of snow, Spring will be here before you know it! The weather here in "mostly always sunny south Florida" has taken a turn for the HOT. I guess Spring has arrived for us. Let the sweating commence!

 

We have tried many vegetable garden attempts here at our little yellow house. Some have gone great, others have bombed! Last fall, we tried something new and it's worked well enough that I am now planting my Spring garden the same way.

I'm sharing it with you today, and maybe it will be a good match for you. It's a great gardening method for anyone without much yard space or poor soil.

I started out with a large, old galvanized tub given to me by a friend who was moving away.  We purchased two more at our local feed store/tractor supply.

Mr.W. drilled holes in the bottom for drainage, then set them on bricks on our patio. The bricks keep them off the ground and allow for good drainage.

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Next, we filled them with soil and cow manure. I keep my morning coffee grounds and egg shells (which I crush) and mix them in with the soil.

Add your choice of seeds, cover with soil, sprinkle with water and there you go! In a few weeks you will be on your way to your very own lettuce beds right outside your door.

 

This method is great for lettuce, spinach, arugula or for an herb garden. Things that do well in shallow soil. 

I hope this was helpful, and if you do try it out, send me some photos! As always, I love to hear from you reader friend!

Blessings, Towandagal-KayLou

Here's our trio, on the patio!



 

As Joni would say, "I WISH I HAD A RIVER..."

There’s an old song by Joni Mitchell that I’ve always liked, but could never really relate to, “It’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down the trees, putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace…I wish I had a river, I could skate away on…I would teach my feet to fly…

I’ve never understood it because I am an absolute lover of all things December, I would most certainly NOT be looking to escape it. My Birthday month is December, and when you share your Birthday month with the son of God, ya gotta take what you can get! So, I begin the month of celebration on the day after Thanksgiving. We venture out early on “Black Friday” and purchase our Christmas tree and I don’t stop until after New Years, when I am a traveling hostess, taking our southern tradition of black eyed peas and ham with collards and cornbread in crockpots and pans, to my children. I LOVE THE HOLIDAYS! I am always a little slow at taking down all the decor, because that means it is all over for this year. My daughter will return to where she lives in Brooklyn, my Grand Buddies school break is over, and Mr. Wonderful and I go back to reality. THIS January is a little different…

I have hesitated in the putting away of all things Christmas, over the last few days. Yesterday was my goal, it didn’t happen, again. This year, I can relate to the Joni Mitchell song, but in reverse. I’m wishing for a river here at the end of the season. Our holidays were, shall we say, eventful, in every depressing way one could imagine. So many things happened over the last month, and still I kept right on going, because that’s what we ever-ready crazy people do, to avoid what we don’t want to face.

I’m afraid that if I start this closure of Christmas, all the other closures I’ve left dangling over the last few weeks, will begin a domino effect of reality. When I  pack up these boxes this year, it means my son in laws mother, my friend, sassy Patricia, is really gone, my eccentric neighbor has moved on to the afterlife, and we will be waiting to meet our grandchild, in heaven, and not this June. Yeah, Joni, I’m with you girl, I wish I had a river, I could skate away on…“ 

My future son inlaw with his Mom, my friend, Sassy Patsy. 

My future son inlaw with his Mom, my friend, Sassy Patsy.

 

As I begin this new year, I hope above all to be more MINDFUL, to be CONSCIOUS of every fleeting wonder of life. I will make moments that count by being AWARE of the miracle of them, not by documenting every waking moment on the internet, but by being PRESENT in them, with the persons I am REALLY with. I feel pretty certain that’s what my friend sassy Patsy would say to me. 

And, if I feel like waiting one more day to clean the house and put away Christmas, I’m gonna do it, because I can, and you can too! I feel pretty certain that’s what my eccentric neighbor Steve would say, if he were here, he left up his giant Mickey and Minnie Mouse dressed as Saint Nick in the front yard, all year long! 

So, maybe I’ll let these things go for another day…write some stories, photograph the birds, call a friend… HEY JONI, we’ve got a river to skate!

Blackbird turns 58

I love to sit outside early in the morning, I read my devotional, drink coffee and snap photographs of the birds that visit. I do not fancy myself to be a photographer but I try my best to capture my feathered friends with the help of a zoom lens on our Canon camera.

 The little Phoebe 

 The little Phoebe

 

 I share my bird photo’s with a group on Facebook called The Great Backyard Bird Count. I love to visit their site, it’s a visual feast of bird photographs and facts along with an occasional thread of hilarity. (the most recent "is that an owl in that tree or a husky?" with 400 plus comments is my favorite). Sometimes when I look at the photographs there I think to myself, Oh I wish I could see one of those (birds) in person. Like last year, I kept seeing photos of PHOEBE’S. A beautiful little bird with an amazingly spunky personality. I hope to myself that someday I will get to see this little bird, and guess what? A Phoebe showed up here last month. I enjoy watching this sweet bird. 

Our oldest Painted Bunting winter resident.

Our oldest Painted Bunting winter resident.

Of course nothing can compare to my love of the Painted Buntings that live in our yard every winter. They are a little miracle to behold, brightly painted wonders flitting about each morning, such a delight.  Sometimes my wishing doesn’t quite work out the way I thought it would go, like last month when I saw someones photo’s of a snow owl that blew me away and left me thinking, “Wow, I wish I could see a Snow Owl!” A few days later, a Florida Bobcat showed up in my backyard, all the wishing in the world isn’t going to bring a Snow Owl to south Florida, but what a special gift to see that Bobcat and take photo's of him! 

Today is my Birthday, I came outside with my coffee hoping for a memorable BIRD MOMENT to mark the start of my new year. I was wishing that I would see something I’d never seen before and then it happened…At eight a.m. December the eighth on my fifty-eighth birthday, the air filled with the sound of Blackbirds, there were SO many and the numbers just kept growing.

There were Blackbirds in every tree, bush and shrub. Blackbirds in the air over the house and on the roof tops of both of our buildings. They were on the fences, the ground and all over the feeders. The noise was overwhelming, I felt like Tippy Hedron in THE BIRDS ! I started taking photographs of them to document this odd moment, because surely no one would believe this. I like to take meaning from things in nature. It brings me great peace. I kept thinking what the heck kinda comfort can I take from this crazy moment? Around eight thirty my friend called as she does faithfully every Monday morning. She always has something interesting to say about the significance of things in nature. So I told her this black bird tale and she immediately said “the first thing that came to my mind was the old Beatles tune 'Blackbird singing in the dead of night…' It lightened my ominous feelings from earlier when I was surrounded by THE BIRDS in what seemed like a sci-fi moment. 

So I took that thought and went to the internet to Google the words of that song…

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Black-bird fly

Black-bird fly, into the light of a dark black night

Black-bird fly

Black-bird fly, into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise

you were only waiting for this moment to arise

you were only waiting for this moment to arise

Call me cosmic, call me whatever, I am a firm believer that God is always speaking. You don’t have to sit in a church pew to hear God’s voice. This concept has baffled me for many years, that we put God in a box and make him so small with our pea-brained minds. He is so much bigger than that to me. I believe He is the creator of everything and everyone, therefore He can speak to us in many different ways, through whatever vessel He chooses, after all, He is God.

 For me on this first morning of my fifty-eighth year, I’m going to take my Blackbird sci-fi- moment as a message to me from Him, and hope that I will make this my year to fly. A year to be free of self centered encumbrances that hold me back from bravery, and arise from brokenness and the dark night into the light. “Blackbird FLY!”

Thanksgiving Eve Morning...

Up early coffee in hand, eagerly making my way out to the screen porch. There is a promise of heavy rain this morning, so says my local weatherman. Opening the slider I am greeted by the sound I had hoped for, rain glorious rain! Rain pounding on the roof and gurgling as it makes its way through the gutters and into the rain barrels. Rain glistening on the leaves in our gardens, washing them clean. Just over a week ago a Bobcat walked through there, this morning even our usual suspects are silent, the Painted Buntings and Cardinals are hiding in the brush. It’s just me and my cozy companion Charlie Bean out here this soggy morning. The sun is beginning to rise now bringing a yellow cast to our haven as thunder rolls in the distance. 

The recent visitor to our backyard haven.. 

The recent visitor to our backyard haven..

 

There is something therapeutic about a rainy day, it’s always been that way with me. It’s a “free pass day” for a secret introvert. A day unto ones self, a day to stay home, for reflection, reading and writing. This is the Thanksgiving Eve morning I had hoped for.

My cozy companion 

My cozy companion

 

My Thanksgiving duties have evolved over the years. Not a lot of cooking is required of me anymore, those tasks are reserved for the biggie on Christmas Eve. My Pre-Thanksgivng prep now involves spending Tuesday afternoon setting up and decorating with our hostess, my oldest daughter. I look forward to that each year. We tidy up her house, rearrange furniture and pull out the once a year platters. My Grandbuddies unload my car of folding tables and chairs and baskets of indian corn that I’ve managed to preserve since my own children were young. Classical music plays on her favorite digital station as the boys and I tromp across her newly mopped hardwood floors with my contributions. If I close my eyes, it’s a deja-vu moment… where feet ran across hardwood floors, the aroma of “Murphys Oil Soap” filled the air and Claude Debussy played on our stereo. My daughter, myself … 

..and if I close my eyes...my daughter, myself... 

..and if I close my eyes...my daughter, myself...

 

I am thankful this Thanksgiving Eve Morning for many things, like “free pass for introverts” rainy days..for the accepting of the baton to host Thanksgiving by my daughter and her family. I’m thankful for the later in life gift of my precious husband who has been my cohort in the making of our backyard haven that is so beautiful on this rainy Thanksgiving Eve morning.

All the best wishes to you and yours for a beautiful Thanksgiving.  


LIVE

The word "LIVE" was a prompt on the Facebook page of a writing group that I belong to. Thoughts began to flow and words forming sentences of the gut wrenching feelings running around inside me over these past months. Perhaps with this prompt, this word "LIVE" I can put words to what's been going on around here and the resolve it's brought me to.

This is our new normal, our future and we choose to LIVE and go forward. Maybe alone for now and without some of those that we held so dear. 

This is our new normal, our future and we choose to LIVE and go forward. Maybe alone for now and without some of those that we held so dear. 

While watching a favorite news show over the weekend, I saw a piece about some veterans who, despite grave injuries had made a choice to fight and LIVE out their lives in a new way. I thought of friends who have battled the “c” word, or lost the function of an organ. The human spirit is an amazing thing! When I think of those people I am always in awe of their determination in making these adjustments and fighting on. It puts proper perspective on the puniness of my little problems. But even in the small things we must decide with determination to carry on and LIVE.

It began a while ago, this feeling of  sadness. Over the last couple of years I have battled some physical problems that have changed the way I live. I have always been a physically strong person, a hard worker with a very physical job and a love of gardening and ALL things outdoors and a deep love for writing. Things had gotten so bad that I couldn’t hold a pen and even typing was painful, forget gardening AT ALL. I have never been unable to do something I set my mind to, so this has been hard to accept. Then, in May I had to have a suspicious lump removed from my breast. This was the fourth time in twelve years, so I was quite concerned. It never becomes old hat, you’re always holding your breath until you hear those words from your Doctor and thankfully, it was NOT the “c” word. Things began piling up upon things… 

Then the things involving my loved ones began. My only sibling’s marriage came to an end after thirty plus years, another family members relationship ended, my best friends Mothers long battle with Alzheimers ended, a friends lung cancer came back and another close friend went into total renal failure. We rounded it off with our foster grand buddy’s season in our little family coming to a close. It was all too, too, much. I have felt this grieving for months now. My heart aches so much for each of these loved ones. I take phone calls, I listen, give advice, pray, hang up, cry and pray some more.

I choose to LIVE this BEAUTIFUL LIFE.

I choose to LIVE this BEAUTIFUL LIFE.

So what do we do? What do we do when we know not what to do or how to go on? We make a choice and choose to LIVE. We get up in the morning putting one foot in front of the other and take that first step to continue to LIVE. We LIVE not in the familiar, safe, comfortable way that we have known. We pray, we change things up, make adjustments, grieve, make more adjustments, cry out to God for help and we begin to LIVE out our adjusted life (when we liked the old way just fine)! This is our new normal, our future and we choose to LIVE and go forward. Maybe alone for now and without some of those that we held so dear. 

In the middle of all these changes, I’ve made some adjustments. Life is shifting and I am making the choice to live in new ways. I am good to my body that is telling me “enough is enough”. I try and follow an anti-inflammatory diet. I blow it and cheat, waking in the morning with hands that won’t open for hours. Sometimes when we have a big garden project I have a helper. The first day he helped out I bawled like a baby! But we all make adjustments to meet our new life.

I am healthy, my mind and body are whole and for this I am so very grateful. I hope to never take anything for granted. Life is to be cherished and those we love should be held close and told daily how much we love them and we want them to choose to LIVE too. Despite how much things hurt and how unfair they seem, we are here for them, to walk beside them in their new life. From this day forward, we will place our feet on the floor, hold our head up high, cry out to God for help and choose to LIVE.   LIVE this beautiful life.     

…And let us consider and give attentive, continuous care to watching over one another, studying how we may stir up love and helpful deeds and noble activities...*Hebrews 10:23&24 The Amplified Bible*

…And let us consider and give attentive, continuous care to watching over one another, studying how we may stir up love and helpful deeds and noble activities...*Hebrews 10:23&24 The Amplified Bible*

Our Supper Club

Happy Sunday, 

Part of what TOWANDATUDE means to me is completing something you intended to begin! My intentions are good, but I rarely meet the finish line. I had three goals for this year and here it is, the end of September and I finally completed one! My intent in telling you about it is to encourage you in getting busy with making your goals come to pass. The holidays are nearly upon us and we all know what that means, the making of another New Years goal list!  

I have wanted to have a “Supper Club” for a few years now and here’s where that dream started. We have hosted a once a year intimate outdoor supper for the past four years. Each of us have said how much we enjoyed that evening every year, the relaxed conversation, the food and participants combined were a real hit. I read some articles in different publications talking about “The Return of the Southern Supper Club”. Wouldn’t it be great to duplicate our yearly dining experience on a monthly basis? Was that too much to hope for? I began to throw the idea out to this certain group and they took the bait! Last night was our “First Official Supper Club Evening” and I am writing here to tell about it. Some of the participants are readers of my Blog, so it’s a way to report in to them and a way to encourage you to begin your own “Supper Club” and give yourself something fun to look forward to during the winter months.

Appetizers on the "back-back porch".

Appetizers on the "back-back porch".

 

Our little yellow house of "funky-shway" (our version of feng-shui ) was the host home this month. It comes with some challenges however, our dining room table sits on our back screen porch, which is nice in the winter and early spring months, but a bit warm for ten people sitting around the table in September! In some parts of the country, fall has begun, not so here in humid south Florida. My reminder note to each of our guests was,. “..remember no A.C. dress accordingly!" I had a fall theme for the evening with decorations and menu plan, but it was still 85 degrees. What troopers my friends are, persevering on despite the heat! I’m calling it “FALL FEVER”

Our dining table on the screen porch all ready for guests. 

Our dining table on the screen porch all ready for guests.

 

There are many ways to carry out your Supper Club plan, the one I used was to provide the main entree’ and delegate each course to a different participant, letting them know our main course and asking them to do their homework to find a recipe that would complement our dish.

Here is our Menu from last nights Fall Fever delicious dining with friends:

The Appetizer: Attendee’s D&G made a delicious salsa comprised of corn, avocado and cilantro and served with root vegetable chips. 

Drinks: Our friend B. brought yummy Fall Beers and an assortment of red wines. I especially enjoyed the Sam Adams Seasonal Ale he brought. I included chilled bottles of S.Pellegrino on the table and  pitchers of iced lemon water.

Our first course: was made by D. She prepared a peppery Arugula Salad that had cubes of roasted butternut squash, cranberries and candied pecans with a delicious red wine vinegar and honey dressing. (Lucky me, I got to have a plate of leftovers of this for breakfast this morning. Wake Up taste buds! Here comes deliciousness)!

The Main course: was Grilled Apple-Bourbon Pork Chops with Faux Mashed Potatoes (nope, not potatoes, it’s really cauliflower!) and Applesauce full of lots of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Vegetables were provided by our friends D&J. They prepared a medley of delicious roasted root vegetables.

Dessert: My lovely neighbor friend C. is a gifted baker. We were so lucky to have her Pumpkin Cheesecake topped with chocolate ganache, she also served us chocolate zucchini bread.

In all, it was a lovely evening with friends over good food and drinks with delightful conversation. My note to self critique of the evening:

1).Next time add one more leaf to the table!

 2).Don’t make something you have to grill while your guests are left visiting (be with them) also; when you grill pork chops and have to put them on hold they dry out too quickly!

3).Never, Ever, under any circumstances leave your blind, 16 year old, killer Cockapoo in the house alone for the time you are outdoors enjoying your guests! (enough said)!

So friends, on to the next Supper Club endeavor for me and moving on down the list to my #2 item of goals for the year…starting a book club. Yep, for about thirty plus years I’ve wanted to belong to one, and I am determined to make it happen before the year is out! Gotta go, I have phone calls to make! 

 

What’s your dream idea? Share it with us here or on the Facebook page! If you’ve already got something going, how about a picture? You might inspire the rest of us to GET BUSY with our TOWANDATUDE inspired dreams! 

  

 

BEGIN AGAIN

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Look to the horizon

fireball

reflecting on the water

a chance to begin again

Grab your loved ones, drink in their fragrance

Wash yourself in the love

Look long into your partners eyes

What will they tell you?

Kiss the delicious cheeks, eyelids and brows of your babes

Smell the top of their head, hold them close     What will you tell them?

 

Make that call

Fulfill those promises

Begin anew

 

 

Dig deep in the earth

plant beauty

feel the earth squish between your toes,

the warmth of the sun on you

Roll the windows down,

Let the wind mess your hair

Turn the music up

SING LOUD

Dare to be less than perfect

Make your lists

number your dreams

Then speak them out

Allow yourself to be known (Do number #3 TODAY!)

Take a chance

Buy a bikini, a one shouldered dress?

Wear a big hat, wild necklace, dye your hair 

Design a tattoo, buy a paintbrush, book a guitar class

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Wear that bow tie now, write a ballad, ride a “tall bike”

Tell someone they’re beautiful

Tell yourself you’re beautiful and dare to believe it

Why wait ?

Look to the horizon

Fireball reflecting on the water

A chance, YOUR chance

Begin again

Hurry

Don't wait

BEGIN AGAIN

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*words & photo's k l pender Towandatude.com

HEARTBREAK SONGS

Heartbreak songs, Breakup songs…Did you have one? What was it ?

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I went to the movies yesterday with my gal-pal Diane (aka; "Little Lou”). Since it was a treat for her recent Birthday, she got to choose the flick. She said she wanted to see “The Fault in our Stars”. When we were in our early teens, we had seen LOVE STORY together, so we needed to see this generation’s LOVE STORY together. It was all that we expected. Diagnosis meets love, love meets tragedy, coupled with multitudes of Kleenex and nose blowing by middle aged ladies munching popcorn (and yes, Diane snuck in the M & M’s, because we can’t have popcorn without M&M’s). 

I heard a song during one of the previews yesterday that’s been popular for a while. I’m no teenager, but I’ll bet it’s this era’s top HEART BREAK SONG “Say Something I’M GIVING UP ON YOU”. If I was a teen, I’d wear a grove in that C.D. I love it.

I’m a sound track lover. Mr Wonderful and I will often sit all the way through the credits long after a movie ends to find out “who sang that song?” Yesterday’s movie was a soundtrack of sappy-ness. It took me back to LOVE STORY and the theme song. Remember that one? After we saw LOVE STORY in 1970, I cried every time I heard that sappy tune by Francis Lai. Re-live the memory here :   http://youtu.be/WTSc4hBdCd0 

 It got me thinking about “Break Up Songs”.

Do you have a BREAK UP SONG from your youth? You know, that one you played over and over? When I was a young teen it was “How can you mend a broken heart?” and on a particularly bad day, it was “I started a joke”. Oh boy that was a killer. Both songs were by the BeeGees who had the gift for this genre. 

Those tunes put an unexplainable ache in my chest. Their words evoked tears to fall, snot to run and my nose to resemble that of Rudolph the reindeer. AND THEN, the poetry writing would begin. Bad poetry that erupted from the depth’s of my broken heart. It was often accompanied by wild doodles, sometimes a charcoal drawing, smudged with blank faces. (Oh yes, I was a deep one !) My goal was to hopefully do what these musicians had done, get across that feeling. To give words and maybe a visual to the ache in my gut that I couldn’t explain to anyone, one that I was sure would eventually consume me. Fortunately, I lived to tell about it all, forty years later !

Those “Breakup songs” were therapeutic. It was as though someone felt what we were feeling and put it to music. Then we could get in our car, roll down the windows, crank up the volume and SING ! SING AT THE TOP OF OUR LUNGS!  “SAY SOMETHING I’M GIVING UP ON YOU”

TAKE A MINUTE here, and share with me your favorite BREAK UP SONG. Maybe a little name-drop too? Of the rascal who evoked the heartbreak way back then! Drop 'em off over on the Facebook page Towandatude.com Do it with TOWANDATUDE! This could be fun and therapeutic!

Can’t wait to read ’em!  AND REMEMBER "LOVE MEANS NEVER HAVING TO SAY YOUR SORRY PREPPY!"

 

Here’s mine: How can you mend a broken heart ? /Bee Gee’s…James C. 8th grade

Thank You / Led Zeppelin…Mr.Wonderful (long ago) 9th grade

P.S. A little redemption note about Mr W. After our first date when we were in our forties, he called me from his cell phone, turned up the volume on his car radio and guess what song was playing? That’s right girls, “THANK YOU” by Led Zeppelin. He remembered our old song ! Don’t give up hope, your Mr.Wonderful is out there !

A COUPLE OF RECENT TOP SAPPY SONGS: My fave’s anyway, ADD YOURS!

"Say Something I’m giving up on you" / A Great Big World http://youtu.be/BmErRm-vApI

The Scientist ("Lets Go Back to the Start") / Coldplay http://youtu.be/_fkOsmdSM0A

Happy Birthday Hannah

In a few days my first born daughter will turn thirty five. Happy Birthday Little Hannah.

What a journey we have had together. I knew you before I saw you. I longed to hear your voice. When you emerged I knew I had witnessed a miracle, something beyond comprehension. There you were in my arms, all pink and new. The thought of a rosebud filled my mind.

We are on a road together traveling. Through phases and eras, dark tunnels and open highways of discovery, miles of life lived, eons of change endured. You have been with me and I with you, constant companions, even when we have lived apart.

I love you with all my heart my love. My bright, silly, brilliant, maternal, artistic girl. You have brought so much joy and wonder to my life. You encourage me every day.

Happy, Happy Birthday little rosebud, Han-girl. From your grateful mom.

Manischewitz in a Styrofoam Cup

I wrote this story about twelve years ago. I am posting it here today in honor of my childhood friends Marci and Diane. This is their Birthday weekend. This is My Birthday gift to you. With Love, from your forever silly childhood pal, K.

"WEST GATE GIRLS"A drawing by my artist daughter Hannah several years ago, from all the stories she's heard about THE WEST GATE GIRLS., Diane in cheering uniform, Me in halter top, Marci, and our dear friends, Lynne of the beautiful flowing hair and…

"WEST GATE GIRLS"

A drawing by my artist daughter Hannah several years ago, from all the stories she's heard about THE WEST GATE GIRLS., Diane in cheering uniform, Me in halter top, Marci, and our dear friends, Lynne of the beautiful flowing hair and our beloved friend Vicki, who we lost to colon cancer in 2009.    *LostTraderArt"on Facebook

I was 14 when I took my first taxi ride. I wasn’t in a big city and the ride was not to any place glamorous. In fact, it was quite the opposite however, I never knew that part..

Diane walked the two blocks from her front door to Mildred’s corner store. “Mildred’s” was a little white cracker style building with wood floors and glass jars on the counter that held pickled sausages, pickled eggs and giant dill pickles. Penny candies and small brown bags were my temptation for spending my milk money there when I was in elementary school. There was a phone booth that stood in the white sugar sand parking area. Diane’s family didn’t have a telephone, so this was her link to Marci and I. 

It was grocery day at the Lynch household. Diane made the call to rally her cohorts. I answered from the black rotary dial phone that hung in my Mam-Maws tiny kitchen, accepting the invitation to accompany Diane on the bi-weekly food gathering extravaganza. I moved on the phone chain to call my bosom buddy since first grade, Marci. 

Marci was fair with blonde hair just past her shoulders. She was thin, with little freckles across the bridge of her nose. We were quite a contrast together. My brown hair streaked red by the sun, usually cut in a pixie, (there was that time Diane cut my hair, but that's another story..) Marci was quiet and easy going. We joined forces when we were seven. I was the leader in our duo, loud and silly, always coming up with schemes that landed us in a heap of trouble. Like the time I tried to revive our dead goldfish and he got stuck to the inside of Marci’s Moms freezer, but that’s another story...

We met Diane and we became a trio when we entered “Golfview Junior High School”. She was a northerner, but we didn’t hold that against her. She was new to the area and we decided she needed us, to teach her the ways of Southern girls. Diane was a beauty, with the darkest brown hair, it was nearly black, and beautiful brown eyes. She was a first born daughter like me. Don’t ask me why, but somehow this all worked out. Often, when it’s three girls in a friendship things don’t go well, but the deal was sealed and we were locked in for the majority of our teenage years.

Back to the Grocery Store trip!

 After conferring with Marci on the phone about what we should wear, our usual summer getup was decided upon. Levi’s cut off to the pockets and made into VERY short shorts, which were worn down on our hips as far as we could get them. A Halter Top made of Calico fabric, with Indian beads or leather strung through the neckline and fastened. We sported flip-flops or the latest leather sandals from India. Marci always carried her favorite rat-tail comb. My back pocket held our stash of Virginia Slims Menthols. I snuck out the back porch door before Mam-Maw saw me and tried to haul me back in for a make-over.

Off we went in the hot Florida sun for the trek down West Gate Avenue to Diane’s. We all walked together to the “Westward Shopping Center” the local Plaza that was our go-to for everything you needed. It was the home of “J.M.FIELDS cheapies” (as my Mother called it) sort of the Walmart of our day. Pantry Pride was the Grocery Store located in the Plaza. (or was it Food Fair then? ) We had this trip down to a routine. Diane had the list her Mother had provided and began the grocery shopping. Marci and I would go over to the drug store lunch counter and ask for a cup of ice. We would then join our friend back at the grocery store. A particular isle held the nectar of the gods, MANISCHEWITZ Blackberry Wine, which we would open and sneak a little bit into our cup of ice. Next stop the cookie isle, to purchase a box of LITTLE DEBBIE SWISS CAKE ROLLS (my mouth waters as I type). Perhaps Diane’s Mom would not notice if we swiped a couple ? After all, I was the professional gift un-wrapper-re-wrapper at Christmas time right? 

As we cruised the isles of the grocery store picking up the essentials for Diane’s family’s pantry, we snacked, drank and got a little buzz from the wine and the thrill of being intoxicated in a grocery store and not getting caught.

We would get all silly and I recall reaching over and untying the leather strap at the neck of Marci’s halter top. This sent her shrieking into the ladies room, cursing me under her breath and promising to kick my butt. This was a scary thing to me, even slightly drunk because I knew she could do it, and I had the bruises on my arm to prove it ! (She always seemed so much taller than me!) I would follow her into the bathroom which was through a door in the produce department and at the top of a flight of stairs. Sometimes I would shut the light off when she was in the stall. Or, stand on the toilet seat in the next stall, looking down on her over the top of the stall and scare her to death ! Then, we’d run like heck back to the safety of Diane and the shopping cart, resuming our domestic duties. Yes, we needed Diane.

At the check out counter it was always fun to watch the face of the cashier as we pulled up that grocery cart packed to the gills and Diane whipped out the cash to pay for it. Marci and I would wait with the groceries while Diane went to the pay phone and called for a Cab. Shortly, a nice boxy bright “Yellow Cab” would arrive curbside and the driver would place all the brown paper bags of groceries on the floor of the back seat. We’d climb in with them for the quarter of a mile ride back to Diane’s house. Her Mother would greet us, inspecting the bags as we unpacked them, ticking off the list she’d given Diane. At this point we would generally eat our favorite sandwich, which was currently bacon on toast with Miracle Whip. Diane’s Dad Matt would breeze in for lunch and say, “Now what kind of trouble are you girls going to get into today?” Of course this would set my mind running in a million different directions…the possibilities were endless!

During the weekend of our 25th class reunion, Marci and I were out shopping and I saw a small replica of a yellow cab in a collectors box. I purchased it and gave it to Diane. “Thanks for my first cab ride” I told her. I will never forget our adventures, and now it’s on paper just incase I do.

NOW ON A MORE SERIOUS NOTE…

I never thought anything about my friends family not having a car or a phone. It seemed perfectly normal to me. She had a stay home Mom and a real Dad. Marci’s Dad wasn’t her “real” Dad, he was her step-dad. Her parents both worked full time, but she had a bigger house. My family on the other hand had no Dad, a working Mom and a stay home grandmother (or Mam-Maw). We had a beautifully manicured lawn, filled with crepe myrtle, hibiscus and rose bushes and the cutest little pink cracker style cottage you’ve ever seen. (HOW we all fit in there, I still can’t figure out !) 

What’s “normal” to one family isn’t normal to the next one, that is for sure. Knowing all of this and growing up the way we did, why is it that I still strove to make things “normal” for my kids? The thought occurs to me that I often have tried to make up for what I didn’t have in my childhood. In all I have to say, that I wouldn’t change much. The tiny little house on the white shell rock road in West Gate. Where my own Mother tried to make my life as “normal” as possible for her divorced children. That’s where the greatest girls in the world lived. Wether we were running through the woods behind Mama-Maws house or laying on Diane’s bed that she shared with her little sister, on hot summer afternoons, or playing “D.O.A.” much too loud on Marci’s Mom’s stereo when her folks were at work. We were WEST GATE GIRLS and somewhere inside us, we always will be. Here, in our “normal” lives.    

Diane, Marci and yours truly just a few years ago.

Diane, Marci and yours truly just a few years ago.


Florida Morning

EARLY light

PALM fronds flutter like fingers beckoning, “come and see…”

A SKY painted by the Masters brush

BIRDS dart and sail across the vast azure canvas singing morning songs


Fragrances of Pine and Plumeria whisper memories in the soft breeze

of a girlhood spent in Florida summers

and midlife lived in Hawaiian beauty


 LIFE washes over me              

Beauty drenches me

Creation sings out 

its song of morning

Evoking a heart full to overflowing 

with Thankfulness

for this Life

 

 


JUST BE

What if...

You would just "be"?

Be YOU

without concern of what others might think,

without fear of acceptance or rejection.

What if 

you didn't try and prove your self worth

and realized that just as you are, you are enough ?

Right here, right now,

JUST AS YOU ARE.

No more striving, no more trying, no more doing.

What if...

You would just BE ?

and allow yourself to be known for who you really are and 

JUST 

BE YOU.

Wonderful, glorious YOU.

JUST 

BE.

Each of us has a story...reflections from a garden party.

Last weekend was my annual garden party. It's a "ladies only" affair. We do crazy girl stuff, like eating decadent food that we shouldn't, have costume contests, listen to chick music from "back in the day" (1960's) and talk, and talk and talk..

This year, the party had a different kind of feel. Each year has it's own flavor, depending on the mix of folks, and the weather. Rain was the back drop this time and while you would think it would put a damper on things, it didn't. Instead it made for a smaller group with a more intimate feel and here's the deal, PEOPLE LISTENED. 

We each have a story, a history that makes us who we are...

We each have a story, a history that makes us who we are...

Once again, I sat in awe of the women around me, sharing their life stories. I was reminded of this thought that I have told my children for years, "Everyone has a story, and that story, their history, has shaped them and made them into who they have become."

We choose how we allow that to happen in our lives. We can be a victim or a victor. We can hang on to the negative or rise above it. OR, we can ignore those things that we've experienced and refuse to acknowledge that any of our past has affected us. But in the end, every one of us has a story.

What happened on this recent rainy, intimate, Saturday was one of those times that I sat in the middle of a group of women and marveled at their experiences and who they have become because of them. I'm blown away by their strength, their character, and overwhelmed at the privilege of sitting in their presence in that sacred moment. We have experienced loss, poverty, illness, abuse and moves to and from other countries. We've experienced marriage and divorce. We've changed careers, gone back to school, we've seen our kids through illness or other trauma's and we have lost our parents  "...AND STILL WE RISE !"  *(Maya Angelou) 

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I marvel that women still get up every morning and choose to put one foot in front of the other and keep going..and going..and going!

So, the next time you are with your lady friend, stop yourself, be present and listen. Just listen to  WHERE SHE CAME FROM. Listen to her telling you WHO SHE IS. ALLOW yourself to be engulfed by the beauty of that miraculous creature and HER STORY and the HISTORY OF TOWANDATUDE IN HER LIFE.

ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE ENGULFED BY THE  BEAUTY OF THAT MIRACULOUS WOMAN... 

ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE ENGULFED BY THE  BEAUTY OF THAT MIRACULOUS WOMAN...

 

I don't know if you are like me. I make little lists of things I want to improve in myself. These are some things I'm trying to be more diligent about and implement in my own world.  While I have not mastered this BY A LONG SHOT, I'm trying hard to be a better listener. Here's a formula for hearing some awesomeness and really knowing someone else.

1).Listen.

2).Be silent.

3).LET IT BE ALL ABOUT THEM.

4).Try not to think of what you are going to say next while someone else is speaking, really listen.

5). Don't try and "one-up". Just listen, drink in the words of another. Think of the person who is speaking, and what a privilege it is to be invited into this moment, to hear their story.

6).Don't start a 'sideline' conversation with your neighbor while someone else is speaking. (this one is a pet peeve friends have told me really urks them)

I Long to be a better listener and a better "know-her"!

I Long to be a better listener and a better "know-her"!


The Anniversary Of My Adventure in Blogging.

One year ago, we began our journey..WE CAN DO ANYTHING, WE ARE FILLED WITH TOWANDATUDE !

One year ago, we began our journey..WE CAN DO ANYTHING, WE ARE FILLED WITH TOWANDATUDE !

It has been a year since I began this Blog. I can honestly say that the journey has been one of a hundred different emotions both high and low. I've learned many things about myself and others as well.

In the beginning of this adventure my daughter gave me lots of info to read on the "DO's and DON'T's" of Blogging. I have tried to obey the rules..Don't talk about others. Don't be long winded, keep your posts short & sweet. Don't talk about drama in your life. The list goes on and on. It all depends though on what kind of Blog yours is, and what the message is you want to convey. I began with a word that has meant a lot to me forever. If you know me well, you have heard me yell "TOWANDA!!!!" a million times over the years. It's a reminder that we are strong gals and we can get behind each other, band together and do anything, overcome anything. 

I kept thinking, "It's really and attitude" and came up with my own word "TOWANDATUDE" and definition. This happens frequently in my world. (Someday I will have my own language if I keep going!) Off I went on this amazingly beautiful journey. I have become an avid reader of other Blogs. I have been fortunate to be part of some Blogging groups, where writers post and read each others work. I have become a "screen porch student" reading and studying about this topic. I don't claim for a second to know what the heck I'm doing or to be any good at it, but some of you have read and affirmed me on a consistent basis and for that I am so grateful ! 

Today I will break some rules. I will tell you that I have not been writing because of a list of things "not to do" from a Doctor I saw a little while back. "NO TYPING" was on that no-no list, along with everything else I love to do, or so it feels like ! You see for the last few years I've had some trouble with my arms and hands. I've had some cortisone shots that relieved the discomfort, I've taken mega doses of anti-inflammatory medications, I wear all kinds of gadgets on my elbows, wrists and fingers. It goes away for a while and then it returns. This time it hasn't gotten any better. I am not one to go to the Doctor. I will and do avoid them until I cannot bear it another minute. This time there's no offer of a shot but the order to see a specialist. "It's either blank or blank.." so, I stopped everything that was on his "no-no list" and things have not gotten better. Now I will proceed with plan B, to the specialist I will go, eventually. The whole thing has left me feeling very UN-Towandatude-like ! I have missed typing this Blog so much and it must be added back in to my "do" list, because I cannot live (happily) without it.

In my life this opportunity of expression has been a true joy, an awesome feeling of fulfillment. When we find that thing that allows us to express ourselves, there is a certain peace that comes. I understand so many things about my creative children and artistic friends that I didn't before. When I read the words of writers I feel their expression differently than before, imagining the journey they've endured.

"..it's all your own personal expression of the beauty of YOU."

"..it's all your own personal expression of the beauty of YOU."

Life is so full, so beautiful, beyond any expression that we can give, but people try in their limited, human way to show their gratefulness, to tell their story. We all tell the story of who we are and where we came from in different ways. Maybe it's your garden, your journal, your creativity in the kitchen, caring for your family members, a painting, a song, one is not greater than another it's all your own personal expression of the  beauty of you.

I am so very thankful for this past year, and I am thankful for those of you who have been readers of my journal, my "Blog". I hope you know me a little better and where I came from. I'll still be here on the screen porch watching the birds with my ancient killer Cockapoo CharlieBean. Right where I was when we started this journey together one year ago with my first post. Thank You from the bottom of my Towandatude filled heart.

Silence, Is It Possible?

SO many manuals..

SO many manuals..

Phone calls, Texting, Voicemail. The internet, Facebook, Blogs I follow. There's Email to answer, Television, Roku, Netflix, Books on C.D., the Daily Devotional Book I follow, Books on my "un-read" shelf, Magazines with articles worthy of my attention, others with shiny pictures of garden ideas I love to dream to. AND then there are MANUALS, the books that came with my new computer, and the simpler one I purchased to make it easier, the manual for the camera I use but have NEVER READ ABOUT, (wow, I wonder how much better my photographs could be if I read that?) Lately I've been feeling like it's all too much. I feel bombarded with so many voices. These things all bring pleasure to my life, but the excess is getting to me, because try as I may, I can NEVER get caught up. There's enough chores to do around a home & garden and the day to day of work and relationships that can keep you busy enough. But WHAT ABOUT ALL THIS OTHER STUFF ? 

I love the shiny stuff...

I love the shiny stuff...

How much of OUR TRUE SELF is masked by all the outside voices? I am so busy filling every minute with outside stimulation that I'm not sure sometimes if I can hear my authentic voice. Today is "TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONE DAY", that fact got me back on a track I've been fascinated with for a long time, THE SILENT RETREAT. When I was living in Hawaii, a friend who was going through a divorce went to stay at a place that held SILENT RETREATS. You went for the weekend, were on your own, for the most part, with some journaling assignments. It was a time for reflection, meditation and prayer. I LOVE that idea! Doesn't that sound heavenly? This comes to my mind now and then, especially lately when I see all the reading material waiting for me. Could I have my own SILENT RETREAT at home? Is it possible? Am I strong enough to say NO to technology? 

What if, for just ONE DAY we stopped filling that void inside ourselves with "other voices"? Sometimes it takes a strong disposition to be alone with ones OWN thoughts. What might I find there ? What songs and stories are waiting to be written? What works of art are waiting to be made? What long ago hurt is still waiting to be soothed? Another onion-peel layer of old grievances, waiting to be shed. If we would only be quiet, be still long enough to listen, to LISTEN TO THE SILENCE, and hear our True Authentic Voice.

think I'm going to try it out. A day of no technology. (This Blog was written ahead BTW!) Since it's NO CELL PHONE DAY anyway. I'm one step on the path already. I wonder what I'll hear today? I Hope it's filled with a good dose of TOWANDATUDE ! Enjoy some silence this weekend and your own True Voice.

Thanks for reminding me Mom !

Thanks for reminding me Mom !


HOME

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I love this quote from Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings "Cross Creek". Her home, where she wrote the books "The Yearling" and "Cross Creek" is now a state park and is not far from where my Mother now lives in Central Florida. I like to visit there when I am up that way. The cracker style house is still there, sitting up on cinder block stilts just like the home I was raised in.  There’s something about being there that evokes so many memories in me.

"..Step inside the rusty gate and close it behind. One is now inside the orange grove. Out of one world and in the mysterious heart of another..."

The smell of the little wooden house, the earth beneath it eking it’s way in through the floorboards. The woods surrounding it and the black moist earth that feels cool beneath my bare feet, the sound of the cicada in the pines trilling loudly, almost deafening in the silent dank of the Florida forest. The perfume of citrus trees and a delicious smell of the deepest green (ask a Florida native about this one.) When I visit Cross Creek I am transported back to childhood days in my homeland. I moved away as a young adult, wanting to see something different, new landscapes, other cultures. I left, I saw, and my heart never once stopped yearning for Florida, for HOME.

Yesterday, I heard a song I love that resonates with me about my homeland..it’s by Kings of Leon the chorus says;

 “It’s in the water, it’s in the story, it’s where you came from. The sons and daughters in all their glory, it’s gonna shape them, It’s where you came from, where you came from" 

I finagled funds every year to bring my children to my home state, to know their southern family, to experience the culture here. They played on the property at my Aunts home out in the country and swam in the lakes, inner tubed the Itchetucknee and spent days at the beach. I wanted this land to be part of them too.

SIX years ago this month, we began our attempts at purchasing this little house, back here in my home state. Initially, I was not a fan of this place. “It’s too far from my kids, there’s no cultural stuff there, it’s kinda ‘po-dunk’ “ are all of the protests I waged with Mr. Wonderful against moving here. But the price was SO incredibly right and I could have a yard to landscape and Mr. W. could have a garage to tinker in. Eventually we got it and the hard work began. I have had frustrations with the distance from the kids and the lack of events that I like to attend, but in all, over time this has become HOME. Together we have transformed what was someone’s cast off, a home left vacant for two years, sadly neglected and unloved, into our “Little Yellow House” with crazy Feng Shui, which we like to call "FUNKY SHWAAY" and too much landscaping (i got carried away!) A home away from home for others, a place for celebrations, a place we can grow old together. As usual, Mr.Wonderful has lived up to his original name of “Mr. Right”. Right again sir and well done!

I am back home in Florida. The land where my Grandmother and her siblings relocated to from South Georgia so very long ago. It was here that my Mother was born and raised, and where she gave birth to me and raised me in that little pink house that sat up on the cinder blocks, where the neighbors hunting dogs slept in the coolness, and my childhood friends and I built forts in the woods that Marjorie spoke of...I am HOME.

"After long years of spiritual homelessness, of nostalgia, here is that mystic loveliness of childhood again, HERE IS HOME."  Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Cross Creek

 

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to our LITTLE YELLOW HOUSE..We now dub thee "FUNKY SHWAAY" 

 “..If you wanna go, I’m a gonna go, Come on take my hand, I’m goin' back down south now…” Kings of Leon, BACK DOWN SOUTH