Still MyFavorite

Some gifts just seem to keep on giving.  This colorful coffee mug is one of the gifts that mean the most to me. My son gave it to me for Christmas when we lived in Freeport, IL….so he was probably about 13 years old. At the time I loved the artist, Sandra Boynton - her artwork, greeting cards and gift items always made smile. So when I opened Todd's gift on Christmas this was a real hit.

Todd recently celebrated a birthday - he is 45. It's still impossible for me to wrap my brain around that fact. So this must mean my favorite coffee mug is about 32 years old! It's lasted through thousands of cups of coffee, a few hundred cups of tea and fewer mugs of hot cocoa. It's been washed by hand many, many times, and made it through I-have-no-idea how many cycles of various dishwashers over the years. It's lived with me in six different houses and one apartment since we left Freeport. The mug traveled with me while Dave and I spent two years living on our sailboat so it's seen a lot of lovely mornings while resting at anchor.

The glazing is crazed inside - the outer edge now "accepts" lipstick or chap stick marks so I guess the glaze on the outside is breaking down as well. I don't care - when this mug is clean and in the cupboard it's the first thing I reach for in the morning. And it still makes me smile.

Thank you Todd! :-)

One More Drop - Or the Difference Between Boys and Girls

We have a dog. He's a Boston Terrier. His name is Fenway. We bought Fenway four years ago because our house was "too quiet". Our house is no longer too quiet.

When I was growing up near Chicago I had a boxer named Buff. Across the country my one-day-husband had a boxer named Duke. When our kids were growing up we had a wonderful boxer, Daisy. We were boxer "people". However now that we live in a very small house in Bay View there wasn't even room enough for a dog bed big enough for a boxer - thus we got a smaller version.

One of the reasons we decided to move back into the world of dog ownership was the idea that Fenway would get us out of the house, walk the neighborhood and get more exercise. s

It's hard to ignore those bulgy brown eyes looking at you as you lace up your walking shoes - and if you say the magic words "Do you want to go see the Lake?" he will race you to do the door. We've learned to be ready to go as soon a we make that statement - jacket on, key in pocket, poop bag in hand. Once you say "Do you want to go see the Lake?" you better be ready to go see the Lake!

I have also learned that walking a boy dog is very different than walking a girl dog. Boy dogs like to sniff everything and taken ownership of every tree/bush/fire hydrant and possibly most blades of grass along the way. Somehow Fen doesn't care that a 14 minute mile is a good pace in order for me to get some exercise and the blood pumping. He is driven to make his mark so that any other dog passing by later in the day will understand that this is his bush/tree/fire hydrant/grass. I seem to remember that Daisy and I made our two mile walks at a much more rapid pace. Sometimes she would veer off the sidewalk to pick up a stick to carry, but other than that she walked. Fenway
walks/veers/walks/sniffs/stops/walks. I am forever saying "Come on Fenway….let's GO!"

And just how does he make his mark? He lifts his leg and pees on each chosen bush/tree/telephone post/fire hydrant/grass plot/fence along the route. Apparently this is just something that boy dogs do. And by the time we've made it home he really has to work hard to make his mark - his bladder is empty….but he is one determined little guy. He will stand with one let raised and find just one more drop so that this last fence/tree/fire hydrant/blade of grass is now one of his!

So I blame my twenty minute mile on Fenway, not on the fact that I'm thirty years older than when Daisy and I rapidly covered our daily route. Happily buying a boy dog makes that excuse seem reasonable - who knew?!

:-)

Friendships

A college friend recently wrote to me about her mother and her long time friend. At age 96 her mother and friend still exchange real letters and personal visits when they can. Sharing memories, laughing together - and frankly, like me and many of my friends, sometimes forgetting together.

Her email made me think about friendship - and the wonderful ones I’ve enjoyed over the years. Dave and I have moved so many times, each time trying to build connections, get involved in communities, make a small difference...and find friends. It was always sad to move and leave these special people behind - but I comfort myself by thinking that at least now I have friends spread all over the country! Even if I don’t see these people every day, every week or even every year - I hope they know who they are.

Recently I read Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake by Anna Quindlen....and one chapter was about the importance of friendships for women. Reading it immediately made me think of my friends.

To quote Anna, "The older we get, the more we understand that the women who know and love us - and love us despite what they know about us - are the joists that hold up the house of our existence. Everything depends on them.....(As we age)....Perhaps only when we've made our peace with our own selves can we really be the kind of friends who listen, advise, but don't judge, or not too harshly. My friends are now more cheerleaders than critics. ...a kind of freely chosen family, connected by ties of affinity instead of ties of blood." and she goes on to quote Henry James saying "Three things in human life are important: the first to be kind, the second is to be kind, and the third is to be kind." 

She goes on to say, "My kids learned long ago to like a feather bed atop the mattress, and that's how I think of friendship. Even if your life is comfortable, it's great to have some extra cushioning."

And ".....friends are what we women have in addition to, or in lieu of, therapists. And when we reach a certain age, they may be who is left......in the end we wind up with the friends who really stick.....One of the most important parts of tending our friendships is working our way, over time, into the kind of friendships that can support cataclysm, friendships that are able to move from the office or playground to hospital rooms and funerals. ......we know how important the bonds of love are, how they make a net so we don't hit the ground when we fall from the wire. ....On the one side are the difficult and demanding events to come, the losses, the illnesses, the deaths. You can see them out on the horizon like a great wave, its whitecaps approaching. But on the other hand is a levee that protects us, that of the women we can call anytime, day or night, to say, 'I'm drowning here.'" 

So.....just wanted you to know dear friends in my heart - I think of you when I read something like this. We may not always agree on everything, we may only see each other only infrequently.....but I will always be thankful that you are part of my life - part of my "safety net". You are out there - and you do know who you are.

"Leaf….Leaves….Leaving" - My Quilt Guild's Challenge Challenges Me

I have been quilting for more than 30 years, been an active member in guilds in several states but never entered a guild challenge for a quilt show. However, this challenge spoke to me.

My mother died June 25, 2010. I was alone with her, in her hospital room, holding her hand she simply and quietly “left”. It was the moment I came face to face with the realization that there was no one to “mother” me anymore….and there was a big hole in my heart where my mom used to be.

My husband picked me up and as we left the hospital, sad and quiet, something made me look up – to see a huge full moon just peeking out between a few stray clouds. It was so clear – and the “man” in the moon was literally smiling down on me. Ever since, every month, millions of people look up to notice the full moon – but for me, from now on, that’s my mom – smiling down and mothering from afar.

So the title of our quilt guild’s challenge started a process in my brain, remembering, thinking, creating. I walked around for weeks before I was ready to start. All the while one thing kept “bothering me”. My mother-in-law died March 23, 2011. She was so very special and I always told everyone I’d “hit the lottery” when it came to in-laws. So I felt that somehow she should be part of the quilt, but I wasn’t sure how to do it.

Walking my dog around the block one night I looked up, saw the full moon, came home opened the computer and googled to find out the phase of the moon for March 23, 2011. Dave’s mom died on a full moon.

So there it was – the quilt sprang into focus and I assembled it in one afternoon. I printed photos of both of these very special ladies on our printer, used some filters to “grey” the photo to represent each one leaving. I surrounded them with flowers because they both loved nature – and sat the huge full moon right at the top. The quilt is machine quilted on my Bernina, decorative stitching to highlight some aspects and a few three dimensional elements.

I don’t believe in heaven or hell, but I do believe in heart-strings – connections that flow from one person to another – during life and after death. A little “tug” that speaks volumes. A ghost hug, a memory, a moment. Dave and I celebrated our 45^th anniversary in December 2013. It was grey and cloudy all day. We were both fighting colds…so rather than go out to dinner we had a nice meal at our dining room table. My back was to the window when all of a sudden Dave said “Linn, look!” I turned, the clouds parted for just a moment and there she was – the biggest full moon, smiling down on us. Heartstrings stretching and comforting – an anniversary hello from both moms.

Un-Plug for Fifteen Minutes

Fenway and I walk to the Lake almost every morning in the good weather – he to sniff all the interesting stuff along the way and anoint every tree, me to look and listen. Spring is an especially nice time of year to go “check the Lake”. The trees are leafing, flowers bloom – one kind after another, birds chirp, squirrels chase, breeze comes up – it’s just a lovely time of year in Milwaukee.

I don’t walk with anything but the dog, a bag to pick up any of his “leavings” and my house keys. I leave my phone at home figuring I can return any calls that may come in when I get home. I don’t use an IPod even though I think Dave gave me one awhile back. I just try to enjoy the day and my surroundings. There is just so much going on, so much to notice in our mile-long exploration. I’m constantly amazed at just how many shades of green surround me. And how many different shapes are found in leaves!

Along the way I sometimes see or pass young mothers pushing their little one(s) in their strollers. They are often in exercise clothing, moving at a good clip. A nice way to get some fresh air for their little ones while finding time to get some exercise of their own. But I also see that they are usually walking along with some kind of plugs in their ears, or talking into a hands-free cell phone. Long conversations, or track after track of their favorite music. I glance at the little one in the stroller, six months old? A year? Almost two? I don’t know. But I look at the little ones and they often just seem sort of bored.

I love technology. I love my laptop. I love email. I love the internet. I love music. I love talk shows on NPR. Our modern today is an amazing place – but for me, the walk around the neighborhood is the wrong place for all of it.

How about leaving the phone at home, taking the IPod out of your ears and using the quick walk around the block with your child for another purpose? To help him see what’s out there. To help her look at the world and appreciate the changes. To help yourself see everything through these new eyes.

How many squirrels did you count? There is a pine cone on the sidewalk, did you stop, pick it up and let your little one feel the ridges? Did you stop to look at the sailboats bobbing on the mooring balls in the harbor? Did you notice when your little girl cocked her head to see the loud airplane pass through the sky? How about stopping at each cross street to say “Now we look both ways! OK – no cars, we can go!” Has your pre-schooler opened eyes wide in wonder as you let her blow on the dandelion to see all the seeds fly away in the breeze? Did you pause to watch that fat robin tug and pull and tug again until a long earthworm finally let go and she flew off with her prize?

There is so much to see in a quick walk around the block with your child. Take those few moments to let them know they are the center of your world – for fifteen minutes. No phone conversation or song can compete. Say “Oh look…..” to them until they are old enough to say “Oh look…” to you.

Goodness knows I wasn’t a perfect mom - and besides we didn’t even have all these electronic toys so who knows - maybe I would have used them in the same way - but I’d like to think not. As the now-mom of two adult children and four grandsons I look back and can really see how the years fly by. My two were babes in arms just “yesterday” - I swear! 

It’s a cliché – but these years go so quickly and they will soon enough be asking you for the car keys....so stop the merry-go-round when you can and enjoy the moment in front of you.

:-)

Sort of Annoying

OK we woke up this morning to another four to six inches of fresh show - drifting higher in some places because it's still quite windy. And even though the snow isn't coming down right now - big clumps are falling from trees to hit the sidewalk right behind me as I shovel. 

My good-natured neighbor smiles and says “Isn’t it pretty!” He’s right – but frankly I’ve had enough pretty for this year. And we still have February and March to get through – never mind the occasional snowfall in April.

Out I went, yesterday early morning, and again today to shovel the walks leading to the house. Dave uses the snow blower for the main sidewalks. I push, lift and toss, push, lift and toss, piles on each side of me getting bigger – some of the lightweight snow rolling right back down onto the walk. I'm running out of places to put it all - our bushes are hidden beneath white piles, roof covered in white. Then, when I finish the walkways and porches I “shovel” a path around the back yard for poor Fenway.

He’s not a winter-outdoor kind of dog – Boston Terriers have no underfur – so has to suffer the indignity of a “snowsuit” or sweater when he ventures out to “be a good boy”. This morning he had to go out before we shoveled – so he was literally up to his nose in snow. Not sure how he managed to lift his leg, and then run out a second time to squat somewhere in the white.            

We try to keep police the yard every day to bag up his good boy “deposits” but with fresh snow falling every night this becomes somewhat of a challenge. I know the spring melt will uncover lots of his lovely brown deposits that get hidden every day. Not his fault – but still….it’s going to be messy.

So please whoever-is-in-charge-of-weather…..enough pretty for this year.