wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

It was a quiet week, a re-centering week. I was in charge of the pace of my days.

This is Bear. He is one of the three farm dogs. Last week had a few cooler days so Bear got to hang out with us as we worked and the customers got a few pets in with this sweet boy.

We’re lucky to live close to the Holiday at Home parade route, so Monday morning we walked to the festivities. After the parade, we wandered through the classic car show, and wow...there were some beauties! 

The owner of this pink car clearly has a sense of humor. A car seat cover informed its viewers, “NO...It’s NOT a Mary Kay car.”

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Mary Kay, it’s a major American beauty brand that sells skincare and cosmetics through independent beauty consultants using a multi-level marketing model. One of the big incentives for top independent sales directors is the opportunity to earn the use of a pink Cadillac through high sales and team building.

Now THIS is what you call an 8-cylinder engine!

Here we are mid-post so time to talk about another dog...

After walking from home and then around the park festivities, we were hungry. One of the food trucks was advertising authentic Chicago-style hot dogs. A Chicago dog in Dayton, Ohio...hmmm. I had to check it out.

An authentic Chicago dog is an all-beef frankfurter served on a steamed poppy seed bun and “dragged through the garden” with yellow mustard, bright green relish, chopped onions, tomato wedges, a dill pickle spear, sport peppers, and celery salt.

Other than the steamed poppy seed bun, this dog was authentic. And it sure hit the spot!

Back to the farm...this sunflower is taking its last bow for the season. It's been  beautiful in all of its stages.

And last...I started this post with a dog photo and will end it with another one. This pup is living its best life!

what do you see?

When we take walks around  big cities, we usually have loose itineraries of where to go and what to see. Todd is more the "where to go" guy, and I’m the "what to see" girl. And my what to see includes so much more than what’s on the list, like this photo.

What did I see?

As we crossed one of the drawbridges over the Chicago River, the first thing I noticed were the rivets. They caught my eye, and then my gaze followed their line toward the skyscrapers. I snapped the photo. Todd asked what I had taken a picture of, and I told him, “the city view.”

But it was much more than the city view.

I saw the gritty urban texture: the round rivets, the peeling paint, and the reddish-brown rust spreading across the metal. The bridge's earthy tones complemented the surface that looked tactile, rough, and weathered.

Then there were the skyscrapers: rectangular blocks divided into grids by the tiny rectangular windows. The buildings' colors were softer: beige, cream, and tan.

And then came the pops of color. Above everything was a clear blue sky. Near the street level, tiny dots of red from brake lights and stop lights brightened the sea of neutral tones.

And all those contrasts created the picture: The heavy, weathered metal of the bridge against the stone and concrete of the buildings. The rough, industrial textures against the smooth geometry of the skyscrapers. The earthy tones and neutrals interrupted by blue sky and tiny flashes of red.

Todd saw the big city.

I saw the details that made the city interesting.

monday's mulling: signs of fall

Today is September 7. The first week of September is complete, and it is also Labor Day.

Labor Day, created in the late 19th century to honor working men and women, has taken on another role over the years. It has become the unofficial farewell to summer. At the farm, apples now appear alongside peaches (but right now the peaches are in the cooler because the bees just love to get some fresh peach nectar). Acorn and butternut squashes sit beside the bell peppers. The sunflowers and zinnias are seeing fewer butterflies and bees as the days grow shorter and the season begins its quiet transition.

Here in Kettering, there is another sure sign that summer is winding down: Friday night football, changing leaves, and the hustle and bustle of preparing for the Holiday at Home Parade. Holiday at Home is a weekend celebration featuring an auto show, arts and craft show, entertainment, food, and other activities at Lincoln Park Commons. It is an event with something for all ages, and for many in the community, it is a familiar tradition that marks the changing of the season.

The large American flag at one of the city's major intersections signals that the weekend's festivities are near. It is a fitting sight for Labor Day weekend, a reminder of community, tradition, and the people who make this place their home.

But for now, let's enjoy that in-between time, when summer still lingers while fall waits just around the corner.

the swing

 The Swing

How do you like to go up in a swing,

Up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing

Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,

Till I can see so wide,

River and trees and cattle and all

Over the countryside—

Till I look down on the garden green,

Down on the roof so brown—

Up in the air I go flying again,

Up in the air and down!

~ Robert Louis Stevenson (1885)

I love pretty stationery and cards. When I saw this card, I had to buy it because it brought back a very special childhood memory.

My grandparents had a tire swing hanging from a huge tree in the side yard of their farm. Whenever we visited, my siblings and I spent hours on that swing, caught up in the excitement and freedom of flying high above the ground. We loved the feeling of soaring through the air, even if our flight occasionally ended with an abrupt crash into the tree. That never stopped us from chasing our goal of touching the sky. We would swing from dawn to dusk, carefree and completely content to stay somewhere between earth and sky.

That’s why this card spoke to me. It reminded me of visiting my grandparents, when joys were simple and adventure found in ordinary places all around their farm. Some memories never really leave. They wait for something as small as a beautiful card to bring them back.

after the rain

A moment where rain and sunlight meet. The raindrops scattered across the sunroof catch the light and turn ordinary water into tiny reflections of color and brightness. The blurred trees and sky reflect in the glass adding another layer of color for the droplets to reflect. Who would have thought a Tesla sunroof would be a canvas for Mother Nature's art? 

the friday feed: pumpkin spice

Even though it's summer, it's that time of year where pumpkin spice becomes THE flavor of the season. Starbucks started this craze in 2003 when it launched its Pumpkin Spice Latte (PSL) and since then this centuries old baking blend has morphed into a cultural phenomenon. From August until Christmas, brands expand the flavor profile to everything from cereals and beers to cookies and pretzels and whatever else pumpkin spice might sell.

a long trip down memory lane

This is a post that spans 30+ years.

Many years ago, when my children were in elementary school, the PTA organized a visit with a children’s author I had never heard of: Patricia Polacco.

From the moment she began speaking, it was evident that she was a storyteller. She drew the children, as well as their parents, into her world. She shared the story of how she had struggled to learn to read, endured teasing, and hid her disability. She found relief in expressing herself through art until a teacher recognized that she could not read and began helping her. Patricia was dyslexic.

She also brought a very special prop with her: an old quilt made from a basket of clothing belonging to family members who had immigrated from Russia many years earlier. Patricia was the fourth generation to care for this quilt.

That quilt became the inspiration for one of Patricia Polacco’s first books, The Keeping Quilt:

“And so it was. From a basket of old clothes, Anna’s babushka, Uncle Vladimir’s shirt, Aunt Havalah’s nightdress and an apron of Aunt Natasha’s become The Keeping Quilt, passed along from mother to daughter for almost a century. For four generations the quilt is a Sabbath tablecloth, a wedding canopy, and a blanket that welcomes babies warmly into the world…”

The book tells the story of Patricia’s own family and the quilt that became a symbol of their enduring love, family, and faith.

I bought the book that day, and Patricia signed it and addressed it to my children. As she published more books, I bought those, too. I read them to my children, and over the years, my collection grew and I have kept all of them.

Years later, when I was taking classes for my Master's Education, one of my required courses was Children’s Literature. For my final teaching presentation, I chose Patricia Polacco and focused on the way she wove her family, heritage, life experiences, and art into her stories. I even brought my autographed copy of The Keeping Quilt to share with the class.

During that Children’s Literature course, my professor told us about the Mazza Museum, located on the University of Findlay campus in Findlay, Ohio. The museum houses the world’s largest collection of original artwork by children’s book illustrators.

Fast-forward several years.

My husband grew up in Findlay, and recently, on our way to Coldwater Lake, we needed to stop there so Todd could take care of a project he’s working on with friends. I took the opportunity to take the car and visit the Mazza Museum.

And there it was.

The original artwork from The Keeping Quilt and the Keeping Quilt itself.

After more than 30 years, I stood in front of the quilt that had been part of a story that began when my children were little. A book I had bought for them. A book signed by the author. And now, an original piece of that story hanging in a museum in the town where my husband grew up.

I also got to see original illustrations from many other beloved books I had read to my children over the years.

It was one of those unexpected full-circle moments that made me stop and appreciate how life threads connect.

A children’s author I had never heard of became part of my children’s childhood, then part of my education, and now the journey continues as I look forward to reading Patricia Polacco books to my grandchildren.