Archive for August, 2010

Cozumel, isla de Mexico

Tuesday, August 31st, 2010

Cozumel

Ten reasons I want to go back!

  1. It was beautiful.  In the hotel (The Palace) and away from it.
  2. We were treated like royalty around-the-clock.  The staff at The Palace was absolutely amazing!
  3. Two words: ALL INCLUSIVE!  24-hour room service, gourmet dining from various restaurants anytime, any way we wanted it.
  4. $1500 worth of activities included in our deal, among them: snorkeling, Dolphins and diving, photo sessions with their photographers, manicures, pedicures, wholistic massages, tours, and anti-aging facials, baby!  Oh, yeah! 
  5. Hunter made friends everywhere he went.  One little boy he played with kept saying ” Oh my gosh!” this.  And “Oh my gosh!” that.  Finally, Hunter thought he’d bring some correction to his little friend and he offered this advice:  “Why don’t you just say ‘Oh, my goodness?  Or sheep dip!’?”  Hunter is his daddy’s boy!
  6. There were scooters and an open-air Jeep zooming down the coast.  Snorkeling and swimming with dolphins.  Chankanaab was wonderful.  WHEN I return, I shall do at least 2 days there, whereeven  the fish dine on homemade corn tortilla chips  (how I crave them even now).
  7. There were reefs and ruins.  Soft winds and gentle waves.  
  8.  The food, oh the food!  Mexican Caribbean, delightful.  Mmmmm…!!
  9. The pool looked like it flowed straight into the ocean.  The air: hot, humid and lovely.
  10. Romantic!  The days were long and sweetly languorous, the evenings hung endlessly in the sky for dancing and dining.

Oh, I will return to Cozumel! ;p

Mood Music for my pictorial slideshow…Hunter and I put this together today and fondly remembered…and wanted to go right back!

Hunter may even honeymoon at Cozumel someday, he is thinking.


  

Push play on the mood music then the slideshow at once

 

Feel the moist, warm air; feel the ocean breeze, hear the waves gently lapping against the dock?…aaaahhhhhh….I am swaying in my hammock….

 

Dave and I on our last night there ~ way more rested and waaaay more tan than when we arrived.  Lovely!

Uno drawback: my hair in humidity es no bueno!

 sigh…

 

Murder and Mayhem in the Magic Kingdom

Tuesday, August 31st, 2010

A one week vacation and I return to overgrown zinnia and the zucchini popping out offspring like there was no tomorrow.  Enough of this tom-foolery!

Yes.  I was blessed to retreat on Cozumel, isla de Mexico for a week.  I left Stormie in charge, a very good and responsible daughter, to water and gather the harvest in my absence.  Naturally, she was more than dependable and asked me if I’d found the garden to my liking.  To the naked eye I could see that things had grown a little too exuberantly lacking my firm direction, yet all seemed to be thriving.

But upon closer inspection, as I visited with rain-water sprinkler-wand in hand, I saw that true crime had been committed right in my own backyard: devious, wretched space-stealing, food-gobbling and in at least one instance: murder.  My investigation will continue this week.

The Squatter Sunflower

For one thing, that big-headed squatter of a sunflower (of whom I have already spoken of HERE, exposing his deliberately bold and bullyish ways) is not only haughtily looking down on my garden from the space he just decided to plop into {where, you’ll remember, he lured an innocent and dainty lemon cucumber plant to jump from her own area straight up his stalk},  but he has now become best buddies with my Burpee Big Boy Tomato, as well.  He is certainly taking liberties that only the garden’s Queen (me) should be allowed to exercise.  Preliminary attempts to reign him in are going unheeded.  I may have to get very tough.

  

See the yellow cucumber flowers?  Up, up, up they go.  And now the tomato is leaning on this brazen sunflower as well!  Sunflower is about 8 feet tall now.  *sigh…

Discovery Investigation: My garden gets hit.

Further around the garden I saw my  Spicy Banana Pepper had been feasted upon by some devouring insect or another.  Every leaf:  gone.  A lone pepper remaining and the stalk green as ever, but stripped naked of her green garments.  Quite disheartening to say the least.  I suspect that foul band of tobacco-chewing grasshoppers in this assault.

And can you believe that powdery mildew descended upon my most ornamental spaghetti squash while I was gone as well?   She went gray overnight – the stress of my absence likely the cause.  Just as well.  That particular spaghetti squash and the zucchini sharing her bale had actually been plotting against me to take over the entire south yard.  This will give them some humility!  They are flowering and fruiting quite feverishly, to cover their shame, no doubt.  Yet I, full of mercy, tended gently to them anyway this morning.

Unsolved Mysteries

But the real mystery was my Sea-Breeze Erigeron, a sort of vining daisy in the big pot near my back door.  I noticed the purple sweet potato looking pretty self-satisfied, quite ornamented and very rosy.  Little pink flowers were popping out and she seemed dressed to the nines in deep colored foliage.  I almost didn’t notice…but then I stopped.  I parted the sweet potato vines and there she was:  my erigeron.  Fully dead.  Fully overcome.  I checked for signs of life but rigor-mortise had already set in and she was completely brown and crunchy.  Sweet potato claims no knowledge and the pot wasn’t dried out.  The mystery remains…

Meanwhile…

Wrestling baby zucchini from the King in the Back Forty (feet) square this morning I once again look like I was attacked in a back alley, having had a brief reprive from unscathed arms during my time on the isla….

But o, backyard garden, I did miss you so.  Thank you for all the love {and deliciousness} upon my return….

And thank-you Stormie {sweet, gentle, phlegmatic daughter…remember, sweet-pea ~ we do have dominion in the garden!} for tending to my wild kingdom!

How many old TV shows did I reference?

Calling forth Riches

Tuesday, August 31st, 2010

Rainer Maria Rilke in his Letters to a Young Poet

So rescue yourself from these general themes and write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty – describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity, and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember.  If your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place.

Absent from this blog for the past week, there has been so much to write about.  Yet,  I realize I am not poet enough to call forth the riches.  Where can I find the words?…

On My Terrace

Monday, August 23rd, 2010

I awoke from a Sunday afternoon/early evening nap and look what I found on my terrace, on floor two, at The Palace, in Cozumel…Mexico.  Some random brown guy, just back from snorkeling.

The “soft-focus” is purely humidity…moist, warm air!  And?  He is not really random.  I have known him for quite awhile now.  About 32 years this week, actually.

Appalled

Monday, August 23rd, 2010

Nobody can do appalled like Doris Day did

Some kiss, huh?  That Doris Day could play the insulted-yet-intrigued better that anyone!

Synonyms for appalled: alarmed, astounded, consternated, disconcerted, dismayed, fazed, gotten to, insulted, outraged, shocked, thrown, unnerved…aghast, mortified, thunderstruck…

Isn’t Sawyer Lovely?

Friday, August 20th, 2010

The Honor

I got to hang with Wrex and Stef the past couple of days as they brought their baby girl in to the world.  Omygoodness, Stef was a champ.  She had to do the entire labor in the hospital, start to finish, plus a few hours of deciding what to do and how to do it.  And that girl worked it!  She is stronger than she knew.  And Wrex, who has birthed thousands of farm animals, but with very different technique, obviously, was amazing as he coached Stef, and encouraged her and helped her and looked in to her eyes and breathed with her until a baby came to them.

This was a silly posed picture.  Stef wasn’t even in active labor yet.  We just posed as Wrex and I watching over her really laboring and Tredessa and Tara being silly.  Actually it was all Chick-Fil-A and Mountain during this time!  Sawyer-Party!

What an honor for me to get to be there, to get to pray for them and witness their love made flesh.  I am so proud of Stef and Wrex and how they worked so hard, together, committed to make the baby’s birth a wonderous and glorious event.  And I am humbled.  The favor of God shines on this family.  He must surely be smiling at what they did.  I know I am.

Sawyer Joell Phipps – isn’t she lovely?

Isn’t she lovely
Isn’t she wonderful
Isn’t she precious
Less than one minute old

Sawyer at less than 10 minutes old.  Daddy wore pink to welcome her.  He’s man enough!

7:14:21 on 8:19:10 at 9:27

At 9:27 pm, 22 1/2 hours after the very first labor contraction, Sawyer arrived to cheers and tears and joy and family.  7 pounds, 14 ounces, 21 inches long.  She has her mommy’s fabulous long legs and slender feet and pouty lips.  And she has her daddy’s heart…already!  Sawyer, blessed more than she realizes, is already loved and adored.

I never thought through love we’d be
Making one as lovely as she
But isn’t she lovely made from love.*

*LYRICS:  “Isn’t She Lovely?” by Stevie Wonder

Cahoots

Wednesday, August 18th, 2010

 

O dear, what is this?, I inquire as I am watering the hale-bay mini-farm in the “Back Forty” (feet) one afternoon.  A self-seeded lemon cucumber had invaded the King Zucchini garden square and was merrily vining its’ way through the orange marigolds surrounding the King himself and plopping herself over the tops of baby carrots hiding under gargantuan zuke leaves and was carefreely dotting the entire square with delicate yellow flowers and spontaneity.

I hadn’t planned for you here this year, I try to explain with the greatest tact.  I mean, I haven’t prepared a space for you, hoping she will undersatnd and take the hint.

Oh no worries, the lemon cuke enthuses.  I’ll just make myself at home.

I see the glare of my extra large, super-fruiting zucchini plant.  He has, after all, been faithfully supplying me with enough dark green squash for 4 or 5 families this summer.  I avert my eyes.

 

Up the hill and over the hay bale farm fence.  Tsk.

In the hay-bale farm, just up the hill, a large, thick-stemmed sunflower has also roosted without my prior consent.  I saw him arrive a few weeks back, invading the tomato grove, and assumed he was just passing through.  I neither encouraged or discouraged his visit, thinking that my lack of hospitality via watering would send him scurrying.  But no.  The next thing you knew, his stocky roots were deliberately implanted, invading the straw bales with great ferocity, and boom!  This sunflower is a squatter.  I have continued to ignore him…until today.

For baby-girl Lemon Cuke has jumped the bounds of the garden square and is now winding her tendrils, in utter adoration, around this stately, dare-devil-of-a sunflower.  Apparant partners in crime, the two interlopers have formed an undeniable attachment.  A common cause, I guess.  Lemon cuke has found a place to go.  That sunflower is a forward fellow, I note.  Quite the bold one, enticing the flowery cucumber like that.

I hope you know what you have gotten yourself into here, scowls King Zucchini.

Yes, I smile with resign as I pick lots of little round, fat, bright yellow, baby cucumbers.  Yes, I do.  Lots of cold cucumber sandwiches in my future.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Tuesday, August 17th, 2010

A Summer’s evening at the Neighborhood School Ball Park.

Baseball is summer’s game.  We didn’t have a TV most of my growing up years, but the radio was tuned in to St. Louis Cardinal’s games as the sun went down on summer nights.  The cracking sound of the bat hitting the ball and the crowds going wild, along with the rev-the-crowd organ music drifted through the open windows mingling with the sounds of playmates and I chasing fireflies and whirling hoola-hoops around our waists.  The screen door slammed, as in and out we’d go and beer commercials would ring out between innings.

 

Tools of the trade.

We don’t do it enough, but now and again, Rocky will get a group of us together to run up the street and play softball at the elementary school.  And each time we say, “We have to do this again soon,” because even my grown children, now, have become nostalgic as they remember the years they played ball all day every day with the neightborhood kids.

  

Uncle Rocky pitching to Gav-at-bat.  The cheering crowds.  DP up to bat.

When I feel the morning grass I let down my guard
Because love comes from the dirt in my own backyard
Everytime I think I’ve finished being young
I catch myself having fun

My husband, Dave, up to bat.

Recently, on one of those lovely evenings that make you wish summer could last forever, Rock got us all together, the fam and some good friends.  There is just nothing like some bats, a good, broken-in leather glove and bases to run around.  Good times!

  

Pepler.  Guini and Nonna (me).  Gavin hits it!

But the moment passes as the sun moves on
So I turn myself back to you…
And it’s depressing that I can’t forget the tune the organist played
La  – da da da da da da,  la  – da da da da da da…
 
Dave at bat.  The boys taking a breather.
Everytime I think I’ve finished being young
I catch myself having fun
But the moment passes as the sun moves on
So I turn myself back to you
Is our season over?  No four leaf clover?
 

The boys of summer:  just coming down “Front Street,” as DP likes to say.  Shirt by Stormie

 

Hunter and Gavin will climb anything.  Tristan swinging the pipe…as a lefty!

I feel it’s getting colder…
But can you still remember?
April to November
You and I were members
Of the best team in baseball
So we play our games…
Rocky…Serious about pitching.

Lyrics: Baseball

All of these pictures: by Stormie!

Taught

Monday, August 16th, 2010

Teaching is the sowing of life-giving, mind-expanding  seed.  May you reap fully from what you have sown.”  -a note to  to Mary Bolton Passwater, a young woman who used to be in the JoyBelles club I led in Kokomo and has turned into a wonderful, beautiful, godly young woman (wife and mommy) who teaches – a most noble life and profession!

Teachers teach us so much.  Maybe not always what the lesson plan was about.  But they do impart things.  Back-to-school time always makes me think of the teachers I had while I was growing up.

Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone,
But in my mind,
I know they will still live on and on,

Five Star Rating System for 6 who stood out ~

1

***Kindergarten ~ Mrs Fuchs (pronounced f-o-x, thank-you very much):  She was a very fashionable, perfectly-coiffed 1960s woman with unnaturally blazing-fire red hair – which I spent a good 12 years constantly trying to replicate and still have great zeal for (especially when I see it on my beautiful Stephanie!).

But how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume?
It isn’t easy, but I’ll try,

 

Me…1st day of Kindergarten;  then second grade

2

*****2nd grade,  Mrs. Weiland:  I adored Mrs. Weiland.  She was so sweet and spoke words of encouragement to me – the first time I remember any adult ever doing that.  When I drew pictures, she’d say, “Wow-you could be an artist someday.”  When I wrote stories, she’d say, “I bet you’ll write books someday.”  I remember her husband stopping by in his Marine haircut during recess one spring afternoon.  They spoke briefly and kissed and we all giggled, peeking through the chain link fence, romantic fancies taking flight.  I can still remember her cute, short haircut and multi-colored frosted tresses.  I admired her so much I once colored a picture of her using at least 6 different colors to create that hair and a classmate paid me a quarter for it, which I promptly spent on penny candy at the corner market.  I wish I still had the picture.  I wish I could tell Mrs. Weiland that I love still art and writing and that her words, her cheering-me-on, made a difference.

If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters,
That would soar a thousand feet high,
To Sir, with Love

3

***3rd grade, Miss Petrie:  She taught me to eschew prejudice based on skin color.  We really celebrated Black History Month in her class and learned so much.  George Washington Carver and Martin Luther King Jr  (who had been slain less than a year earlier) became heroes to me.  She also introduced me to the music of Motown, and o baby – yes!  Still LOVE those Motown sounds! 

Each student got to have dinner at Miss Petrie’s apartment during the school year and she led us in a loud, raucous rendition of “Found a Peanut” in the car on the way.  We also stopped at J. C. Penney’s to pick up her cinnamon-colored pantyhose.  And I couldn’t wait to wear pantyhose when I grew up.  I literally spent years in suntan-colored L’eggs Sheer Energy, YEARS!  I miss them sometimes…but not that often.

4

***4th grade, Ms. Lynch: She read to us after lunch.  We’d put out heads on our desks and listen to stories like Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Charlotte’s Web and Old Yeller.  It seemed we were too old to be read to and hadn’t been since Kindergarten, but I remember it being a lovely, restful, soothing time of the day – to have some one read to me.  I also learned to knit during lunchtime in her classroom.  Knit one, pearl two.  I recently bought some classics I want to read to my grandbebes even though they are learning for themselves.  For, being read to is sweet!  They will always remember that I first shared that story with them…like I do about Miss Lynch.

5

(-*****) 5th grade, Mrs. S_____:  That is a negative 5 stars and the reason I am not saying her name.  I can’t remember her ever saying anything at all to me except to make fun of me once because I loved Danny Bonaduce.  Tsk.  My grandma died in the spring, rocking my young world.  My tummy hurt all the time and it was very important for the desks to remain perfectly straight at. all. times…or she’d straighten them!  I missed 31 days of school that year. No wonder.  A teacher is a powerful person in a child’s life.  But they’re human and may forget that sometimes.  Just hope my grandbebes always have teachers who know their impact, who know their own strength to influence the generations through what they impart, for good or bad.

 

Me…my birthday party during the 4th grade; Mr McGarry and the whole 6th grade class.

6

**********  6th Grade, Mr. McGarry (yes-that is more than 5 stars!).  I was just an odd kid, a preacher’s daughter and I was hitting that awkward age.  I felt unsure of myself and the neat little-girl life I’d had growing up with family around for the first 10 years of my life was over.  We’d moved and I’d started started 5th grade late in a brand new city.  Then we moved again, across town, during my 6th grade year.  I’d have attended 9 schools by the time I graduated when I’d begun so nicely, having been in one neighborhood school for grades K-4th. 

By the time I entered Mr. McGarry’s class, I was sullen and lonely.  I didn’t want to start all over again.  It was mid-year and cliques and friendships had been formed.  I’d decided I would just endure it.  He was very gentle and kind.  Somehow, very quietly he got me involved.  He engaged me in conversation, as if anything I could have to talk about even mattered!  Then he acted as a bridge to friendships with other kids.  He helped me become a “patrol” and signed me up to monitor classrooms of the younger kids during teacher’s breaks and lunch recesses. 

Somehow in a short time, this wise and all-knowig teacher teacher, who had to be very young himself at the time, made what was sure to be a distasterous half-year then on-to-junior-high way better than just bearable.  I made great friends that year.  I actually had fun.  Academically?  Nothing stands out to me, really (which may not be what a teacher hopes for), but I remember his kindness and respect towards me and all of the other students.  And I know he taught us to respect one another, too.  The classroom was laid-back and Mr McGarry allowed us to arrange our desks as we wished (that seemed crazy wild at the time) and I LOVED game and music days in his classroom, spinning 45s on one of those big, clunky school turn-tables (“Rockin’ Robin” by the J5…”The Lion Sleeps Tonight”) or  while we played Password or some such “educational” game.  There was a dog-eared paperback copy of Hal Lindsey’s The Late, Great Planet Earth on Mr McGarry’s desk.  And I remember knowing he really cared if it went well for me.  And he saw to it that it did.

The time has come, 
For closing books and long last looks must end,
And as I leave,
I know that I am leaving my best friend,
A friend who taught me right from wrong,
And weak from strong,
That’s a lot to learn,
What, what can I give you in return?

I went back to visit Mr. McGarry after I’d gone on to junior high, just before we moved to yet another city.  And he told me that when I had first come to his classroom, I never smiled – that is what he remembered about me.  But he told me he was happy when I started smiling – that that is what he’d wanted to see.  That surprised me.  I’d never known anyone before who was concerned with whether or not I smiled.  It absolutely made a huge difference in my life, especially so near the teen years.

Mr. McGarry (Robert McGarry, Buchanan Elementary in Davenport, Iowa 1972) - if you’re out there ~ YOU WERE THE BEST!  Thank-you so much!  I still think of you with fondness, I still thank God for you.  I am sure you didn’t even really know how much your kindness meant to me.  But thank-you for the smile, for determining to help me get it back.  And just so you know – I am still smiling like crazy!

“Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions.”

I had a lot of teachers over the years.  I wasn’t able to get to know most of them very well.  My 9th Grade Algebra teacher, Mr. Harper, actually gave me his teacher’s copy of the book because he said I needed it worse than he did!  ;p  I cherish it still!  In it he wrote, “I wish I could’ve gotten better acquainted with you and I probably could have if I’d been sitting in Laurie’s seat,” in reference to the fact that I spent a lot of time chatting with a friend.  Hahhahahha!

But I know that nothing is wasted and for better or for worse, I learned the things I’d need for life from the men and women who chose to teach.  I was taught and I am grateful. 

If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start,
But I, would rather you let me give my heart,
To Sir, with Love*

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called “truth.” ~Dan Rather 

*LYRICS:  To Sir with Love by Lulu

Grocery List

Sunday, August 15th, 2010

In doing my post-HF pantry straightening and jotting a little grocery list, I started to feel pretty superior and a bit biggety about what I saw.  On the counter among ripening garden tomatoes and market avocados are fresh pineapple and gala apples.  The huge in-season peaches are luscious to the bite, but equally tasty fresh off the grill.  The fridge is full of zucchini, and cukes, lots of cilantro and garden dill.  Peppers are fruiting in every shape, size and color.  Assorted lettuces and cabbages are crisping for impromtu salads, and V-8 chills for a quick pick-me-up.

Google image

Yes, I must confess to being a little puffed up about the 3rd-from-the-top pantry shelf on which I found brown rice, jasmine and even some Minnesota wild rice.  There was peanut butter, a wonderful protein and quick snack, along with sunflower seeds: both those in the shell and the ”naked” variety.  A box of whole wheat penne sits next to a package of Maufu Rice Sticks.  There were raw and roasted almonds and a cannister of cashew halves.  A bag of plump pecans and a smaller bag of Cajun Nut Mix leaned against a produce carton of salted soy nuts.  For dessert?  Some Archer Farms Pumpkin Spice Trail Mix or some genuine Mountain Man Cherry Nut Mix.  I even have roasted Flax Seed, for crying out loud!

Lined up neatly on the same shelf:  All-Bran crackers, Low-Sodium Triscuits and a jar of Greek Kalamata Olives.

Wow.  Look at the good choices we have made, I muse.

Please, however, disregard all the empty take-out cartons in the trash (and fridge) and the Dr. Pepper and Pepsi cans and pizza boxes in the recycle container.  Oh – and that can of processed cheese-like spread-goop.  Yes. Please.   Just ignore those.