this is us

My husband has always liked watching TV - sports, movies, financial shows, the news. Now that he's retired the television is on for a good part of the day. (Right now, the news is on constantly to keep up with what is going on in the Middle East). Me, I'm not a TV watcher - really never have been. After dinner is finished and cleaned up, that is when I'll sit down and turn on the television. I don't watch much and a lot of times it puts me to sleep. During the day, I take walks, go to yoga, work on my blog, read, volunteer, figure out what to have for dinner, get together with friends, go exploring, and if something spur-of-the-moment comes up, I'm out the door to do it. My hobbies aren't his. We have our life where we share all kinds of moments, trips, family events and doings, social events, sporting events, and lots more. Our strengths complement one another, we share core values and similar life goals, and in August we'll celebrate our 46th anniversary.

monday's mulling: the art of noticing

David from the Adventures of Travel Penguin on his most recent Saturday Morning Post wrote about the difference between looking and seeing. What do you notice? Look for the unexpected in the everyday surroundings.

One week ago, I finished a Frozen Feet Challenge where the goal was to get out and walk every day for six weeks. The last day the plan was to do the usual neighborhood walk down the hill, turn left on the long, straight street, tour all the cul-de-sacs along the way, wind my way home in time to meet with the lady who was coming to the house to give me ideas about some new furniture pieces for the space we renovated. It was going to be a quick walk but then I looked down and saw it. That snow covered leaf - "snowliage" - a transient event, a limited-time masterpiece of nature.

My supposed-to-be-quick walk turned into an over-an-hour-taking-30-photos noticing walk. I just wanted to inject some novelty into the way I saw the neighborhood. It became a game - a single object scavenger hunt, played for the fun of noticing. (In case you were wondering, close call but I did arrive home by the skin of my teeth, just in time for my appointment).

happy 223rd birthday, ohio!

The state that I have called home for most of my life celebrates its 223rd birthday today. Happy Birthday to the Buckeye State! Ohio joined the Union and became the 17th state on March 1, 1803.

A few tidbits about my state:

Why is Ohio called the Buckeye State? In the 18th century when Ohio was settled, Buckeye trees were prevalent in the area. Hence, the nickname the Buckeye state.

Ohio is sometimes referred to as "The Mother of Presidents." Seven of of our presidents were born here.

The state bird of Ohio is the cardinal and the state flower is the red carnation.

The Ohio state flag is not rectangular in design and is the only pennant designed flag of our 50 states.

Photo: Jeff Kubina

More than 300,000 Ohioans served in the Union Army during the Civil War. Ohio is said to have had the most active network of the Underground Railroad of any state with 3000 miles of routes. Today, the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center is located in Cincinnati.

Thanks to Wilbur and Orville Wright, Ohio is also known as "The Birthplace of Aviation." The Wright Brothers pioneered their gravity-defying machine in their Dayton bicycle. Ohio is also home to prominent astronauts John Glenn, the first man in space and the oldest nam in space and Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon. Ohio has been a source of aviation innovation over the years. The National Museum of the United States Air Force is located near Dayton, Ohio, at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and is the largest and oldest military aviation museum in the world.

Ohio has two professional football teams: the Cincinnati Bengals and the Cleveland Browns. Interstate 71 connects the two cities for the Battle of Ohio. Canton, Ohio is home to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, where the National Football League was founded in 1920.

Ohio also is home to two professional baseball teams, the Cincinnati Reds and the Cleveland Guardians (formerly the Indians). The Cincinnati Reds, originally known at the Cincinnati Red Stockings, were the first professional baseball team in the United States, founded in 1869.

Originally called the “mechanical money drawer,” the cash register was invented by Ohio native James Jacob Ritty in Dayton.

In 1839, Charles Goodyear from Akron, Ohio invented the process of vulcanizing rubber.

General Mills, of Akron, Ohio, trademarked Quaker Oats as the first breakfast cereal in 1877.

Thomas Edison, famous for inventing the incandescent light bulb, the phonograph, and the motion picture camera, was born in Ohio.

The inventor of the traffic light and gas mask, Garrett Morgan, is from Cleveland, Ohio and in 1914, the first traffic light in the United States was installed by American Traffic Signal Company in Cleveland.

“Duct Tape Capital of the World“ is in Avon, Ohio, where the DUCK duct tape brand was created.

Ohio was the first state to enact laws that protected working women in 1852.

Oberlin College was the first college in the United States to admit women and to admit black students.

In 1923, Cleveland High School students, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, created Superman.

What state is round on the ends and high in the middle? You guessed it...

O-HI-O!

the last day of february

The Brook in February

by Sir Charles Douglas Roberts

A snowy path for squirrel and fox, 

It winds between the wintry firs.

Snow-muffled are its iron rocks,

And o’er its stillness nothing stirs.

But low, bend low a listening ear!

Beneath the mask of moveless white

A babbling whisper you shall hear - 

Of birds and blossoms, leaves and light.

It wasn't a snowy day as in the poem, but Hills & Dales MetroPark was still and quiet and nothing was stirring, except for the soft burbling of water trickling underneath the ice. I heard it, felt the tension from winter and the hidden, but soon to be noticed, spunk of the coming spring. 

the friday feed: mangia!

Wednesday Todd and I met our dear friend Margo for dinner. She had been in Italy (yes, the Olympics) for a couple weeks, was going to be in town for a week, and then head to Florida for a few weeks to enjoy some sunshine and warm weather. In typical Margo fashion, she turns the corner carrying a couple gift bags into the bar where we were waiting, "Buon giorno, buon giorno! I know it's not the right time of day but buon giorno anyway!" 

Italian souvenirs. It was Christmas in February. Those bowls painted in traditional Italian style with the blue evoking the waters around Italy, the lemons symbolizing prosperity (and sunshine!). I was giddy speechless. Puttanesca sauce - lots of garlic, anchovies, tomatoes, capers, and olives. It's a favorite. I asked her if she took an extra suitcase to bring home gifts. She nodded yes with a twinkle in her eye. 

The evening went on, jet lag was catching up to her, we gave hugs and said our good-byes. As she walked to her car, Margo turned around and once again with that twinkle in her eye said, "Think about 2030 and the French Alps!" Now that's a thought. Ooo-la-la!

the daffodils are coming, the daffodils are coming!

Yesterday on my way home from a calming yoga class, I took the road less taken rather than the direct, four lane thoroughfare. The old brick brick road wound through the old money suburb, past some gorgeous homes and the Wright Brothers mansion, and required some maneuvering around tree trimming and utility trucks on the way to see if daffodils were popping up at the "Daffodil House." And there they were. Channeling William Wordsworth, my heart leaped up when I beheld the daffodil buds coming through the ground...

The daffodils are on their way! Right now the green shoots push their way through the ground.

And in a few weeks will be a host of golden daffodils to cause passersby to slow down and appreciate this farewell to winter - the first greeting to spring.

 

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

In Monday's post, I wrote about "stuff" I found while organizing sewing supplies. My grandma made beautiful quilts and during a long ago summertime visit she gave me my first quilting lesson using four patch quilt blocks. Cutting the same sized squares, making even stitches with a needle and thread, not pulling the thread too tight or keeping it too loose, matching the corners...so much to think about. Grandma was so patient with my first try and that experience opened the world to more quilts, needlepoint, counted cross stitching, and machine sewing.

Tucked among my fabrics, look what I found...the little quilt tops with all the pretty fabric combinations that I chose from Grandma's scrap box. My, oh my, what an eye for mixing and matching! 

Now that I have a granddaughter, I'm going to finish these off so if she plays with dolls she can have some blankets to wrap around her little babies. I'll tell her the story about how my grandma taught me to quilt and maybe someday she'll want me to teach her how to make four patch quilt blocks.

The late winter flowers are pushing their way through the dirt. After all the snow that fell a few weeks ago, these sweet winter aconite are such a welcome sight. Yellow...the promise of sunshine and warmer weather.

Valentine's Day is such a busy day at restaurants and for the past few years, Todd's and my tradition has been to order a heart-shaped pizza and have dinner at home. We were invited to a dinner this Valentine's Day so one day after having no inspiration as to what to fix for dinner, yep you guessed it...we ordered a heart-shaped pizza for dinner. Any day is a good day for a heart-shaped pizza!

oh relax

People love to express themselves by the clothes they wear, through the music they listen to, the art they create, the flowers they grow in their gardens...so many ways of self-expression - including the license plates on their vehicles. The surge in popularity is driven (see what I did there 😄) by a desire for individuality and this trend is evident while walking through the grocery store parking lot noticing the catchy phrases on the bumpers. This one hit home. Whenever my mom got worked up about whatever, my dad's response..."Relax, dear." And one time when Todd and I were having a "discussion," a little voice piped in and said, "Weewax, Mommy and Daddy!"

OH RELAX

stamped in metal, bolted to chrome,
a tiny manifesto riding home.

OH RELAX

it sighs at traffic’s daily theater,
at the honk-happy gladiator,
at the tailgater inching near
like urgency itself lives here.

maybe the driver wears it like a grin -
a laid-back soul in rumpled skin,
windows down, arm in breeze,
laughing at life’s small emergencies.

maybe it’s a joke on road rage heat,

a playful jab from the driver’s seat,

a bumper-level therapy session

for every impatient and rude expression.

perhaps it echoes some unseen thread -
a catchphrase once casually said,
an inside joke, a family tone,
a borrowed line now made their own.

OH RELAX

a bumper's message, brief and bright,
a dare to soften, just tonight.

and whether a whisper, joke, or shield,
it turns the highway to a field
where metal carries something kind:
a nudge to ease the racing mind.

monday's mulling: grandma

I am in the midst of a much needed project: organizing my arts/crafts and sewing supplies. Five years ago I had a lot of space to store my supplies but after a series of moves they've ended up in a box over here and in a bin over there, in a random drawers around the house. In the last few months, I've made Christmas stockings for my granddaughter and daughter-in-law and then the zines for my grandsons and it was stressful because I spent so much time looking for "stuff." 

A couple days ago I found three boxes of books and they are now on shelves...yay! In one of the boxes was one of my grandpa's diaries. While plodding through the pages of his 1977 journal (his handwriting was horrible), every single day he mentioned visiting Clara, my grandma. He documented my grandma's Alzheimer's journey. 

Wednesday, February 23, 1977. My grandma died 49 years ago today. 

Grandma always said that Grandpa's handwriting looked like chickens were hopping all over the pages. It always took a bit of time to decipher what he wrote.

"Clara passed away while at coffee. Jack Stucky said John wanted to talk with me. Said Mother was bad. She passed away before I got there. Will have funeral Friday 10. Visitation tomorrow night 5-9. I have a couple hard days ahead. Picked out casket etc this evening. Have called _______." (Couldn't figure that one out. Maybe Arizona as my grandparents spent their winters there).

I was a sophomore in college, Mom called me with the news that Grandma died. I was sitting at the desk in my dorm room working on a paper for an English class and the tears just spilled onto that paper. My college was 45 minutes from home, Mom told me to pack some clothes and a couple nice outfits because Dad would be there in a couple hours to take my siblings and me to Illinois. She had called the schools for my siblings' dismissals, got all their clothes in suitcases, and was heading to Illinois as soon as she got off the phone.

Grandma was a devout Catholic and this date, February 23, 1977, was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. The funeral was on Friday, the first one in this Lenten season. During Lent Catholics are to abstain from eating meat and consume minimal amounts of food on Fridays to imitate Jesus' 40-day fast in the desert. My grandpa was Mennonite and all the ladies from his church provided food for the after funeral reception. And this food included meat - ham, fried chicken, meatballs, and all sorts of marvelous desserts - things that Catholics should fast from on Lenten Fridays. There was an air of what are we supposed to do with all this good food that we're not supposed to eat and the priest is here, too? The priest came through and gave a dispensation to any Catholic who chose to eat the meat dishes (and desserts) that the ladies so lovingly prepared could do so. Hallelujah!

I adored my grandma. I envied my cousins because they lived in the same town as my grandparents and could visit them whenever they wanted. Because of my dad's job, we always lived 4-5 hours away from them and got to visit two or three times a year. But whenever we arrived at their house, Grandma was always on the back porch stoop, waiting for us as the family car crunched down the gravel driveway, with her smile and open arms that said, "It's about time you got here!"

it's that kind of sunday

Maya Angelou believed in treating everyone with dignity, viewing the world as a, "rich tapestry" where all threads are equal and where very act of kindness counts.

After my mom died and I was out and about around town, I would occasionally see her friends at the grocery store, downtown at various venues, walking at the small indoor shopping center, the library -  just wherever we randomly happened to be. The most frequent comment after their condolences was the remembrance of having afternoon visits at Mom's home, sitting at her kitchen table, visiting over a pot of tea with some cookies. Mom had a tea pot very similar to this and I, too, remember visiting at her table over a pot of tea. It was a time to slow down and talk about whatever. Kind and gentle moments - you don't forget how they make you feel.

 "I'm convinced of this: Good done anywhere is good done everywhere. For a change, start by speaking to people rather than walking by them like they're stones that don't matter." ~ another Maya Angelou quote

the crescent moon

Yesterday we met my brother and sister-in-law for an early dinner. It was a gorgeous but very windy, getting back to chilly day. We had been blessed with a couple spring teaser days with sunshine and temperatures in the 60s. But, it's still winter in Ohio and Ole Man Winter took back his duties and hit us with a doozy of a weather event. Thursday night Todd and I were watching the Olympics, waiting for Alyssa Liu's gold medal skating performance. The wind and rain had all at once become much stronger and both our phones went off with a horrendous beep. TORNADO WARNING. We flipped the TV to the local weather station with the adorable meteorologist being very serious telling the viewers to get to their tornado safe spot. The weather system passed in 15 minutes with no tornado touchdown.

Back to yesterday...after having dinner with my brother and sister-in-law (their names are Pat and Patty - isn't that fun?) we came home and the sun was starting its descent. I asked Todd if he wanted to take a walk, he said "Sure," so we took a quick sunset walk. 

We got home And there it was - the crescent moon.

Such a perfect moment: the color of the sky, the outlines of trees, the silver edge of that crescent hanging just above the sunset’s glow.

It was too light to see them in this photo but three planets, Venus, Mercury, and Saturn shone on the western horizon below the moon. 

Possible tornado one night, beautiful sunset with a crescent moon the next. Mother Nature keeps us on our toes.

the friday feed: tabbouleh

I met my friend Annette when our her middle child and my first born were in the same kindergarten class. Her family history tells quite a story. Her mom was a German Jew living in Munich during WWII.  Ruta and her family left Germany to find haven in Israel. Annette's Palestinian dad lived in Jerusalem, Ruta and Elias met, fell in love and married, had two children, and moved to the United States, where they had three more children, Annette being one of them.

Through my friendship with Annette, she introduced me to Levantine food: zeit and za'atar (an olive oil mixed with za'atar dipping sauce with pita bread, Lahma bi Ajeen (Arabic pizzas), dolmas (stuffed grape leaves) falafel, and tabbouleh. When she makes tabbouleh, she'll send a text message: "I just made way too much tabbouleh. Want some?" Of course!

A couple weeks ago Annette went to a golf tournament in Phoenix and stayed with her friend who lives there. Her friend loves to garden, has a couple lemon trees on the property, and sent a few lemons home with Annette. She called me when she got home. "I brought you something from Phoenix!" She came by the house and handed me two lemons. The little orbs of sunshine smelled so fresh and I knew right then and there what I was going to do with them. "Im going to make tabbouleh!" 

Tabbouleh is a Middle Eastern salad that originated in Lebanon. It's made primarily from finely chopped parsley, tomatoes, mint, and onion, with soaked bulgur wheat, all tossed in a dressing of olive oil and lemon juice. I had some mini cucumbers and added those, too. That lemon juice in the dressing tasted so fresh. It wasn't puckery tart. Tabbouleh is served as a side or appetizer, often scooped with lettuce or pita bread. I scooped mine with a spoon. Todd is not a big fan of tabbouleh. More for me...darn.

 

how did that get there?

 

On a sunny, cold, snowy day I was looking out my kitchen window at the snow covered patio, at the birds gathering on the feeders, and at a couple of icicles clinging to the gutter. And then I saw it. One of the icicles held an unexpected passenger: a single dandelion seed. 

How did it get there? 

Months earlier it had been a bright yellow bloom in someone's backyard. No one noticed it and it turned into a delicate silver globe waiting for the wind or perhaps a child to blow its seeds into the air. How far had it drifted?

Snow began to fall as the seed was still aloft. It could have landed anywhere - on the bare bushes that lined the patio, on the snow piled on the grill, but instead it brushed against an icicle as the meltwater dripped and refroze.

And there it was. How it caught my eye, I'll never know. 

A summer memory caught on winter's ice.

The icicle has melted and the seed has disappeared. Maybe it will show up in my yard and a yellow bloom will stare back at me.

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

The snow storm that dropped 15 inches (38 cm) of snow on January 25 has finally melted. While it blanketed the earth, some early spring flowers pushed through the dirt on their way to blooming into hyacinths in the next few weeks. Such a welcome sight! Spring countdown: 32 days.

A couple times a week I volunteer at Miami Valley Meals, a volunteer initiative that began during the pandemic and quickly evolved into a full-time operation serving thousands of meals per month. A team of chefs transforms recovered foods from various partner organizations into nutritious meals and then distributes the meals to groups that serve people facing food insecurity. Last week I put together 45 egg bake casseroles and just yesterday I chopped okra for two hours. This team of chefs is quite remarkable to put together the meals that they do. Each week unknown food arrives and they turn it into tasty meals to serve a community in need.

Last week my daughter-in-law sent some distressing news on the family text chain. Her mom was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer. Monday afternoon Jennifer left to visit her mom, take her out to dinner, and spend the night at her parents' house. Mom's first chemotherapy treatment was Tuesday morning. I asked my son if he wanted me to come to Cleveland to help him with his little ones - the bath and bedtime routines are a little hectic with a soon-to-be 1-year old, a busy 3 1/2 year old, and just one parent. He said I didn't have to but if I wanted to, but...enough said. I would be there around the time he got home from work with a pot of beef stew. 

The morning routine of getting the littles ready for daycare wasn't quite as crazy as the nightime routine, except the power went out. We warmed the Hallie's bottle in a pan of warm water, put Owen's frozen muffin in a plastic bag and thawed it in another pan of warm water, thank heavens for flashlights to get the kids dressed. 

Before leaving, Andrew asked me to take a photo of him and his sweet kids to send to Jen's mom. They all wore pink to show support to Nana as she starts her chemo to beat this ugly cancer.

monday's mulling: morning fog

Yesterday the weather apps and the television weather people alerted the people of the Miami Valley that we would wake up to a dense fog. All the appropriate warnings that the pea soup visibility might slow down morning commutes to work were given. Today is also Presidents' Day, a federal holiday, and some businesses and schools will be closed in observance of the fete. The 7:15 school bus will return for its student pick up at the corner tomorrow morning.

I peeked out my window to look at the fog and then went outside to just stand in the mist. So peaceful, so quiet.

It’s like the world hit pause overnight.

Waking up and going outside to stand in a chilly, densely foggy morning makes everything feels softer. The light is diffused, the edges of buildings and trees blur into the mist, and sound seems wrapped in cotton. The familiar streets look mysterious.

Going outside in that moment woke me out of my Monday morning fog. The cool air woke me up better than that first cup of coffee. The usual noise from passing cars was muted. Peaceful, but not empty — more like the world quietly breathing.

My mind in the morning's peace and quiet took in the moment and went to Carl Sandburg's poem, "Fog," that captured a quiet and mysterious moment over a city and harbor. My quiet and mysterious moment was from my driveway.

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

~ Carl Sandburg

it's that kind of sunday

Besides the kindness connection, these two photos have another commonality: they're in two separate framing shops where both the businesses are located in historic buildings. 

These stickers were on two different vehicles, same parking lot. Looks like a couple car owners are on the same kindness wavelength. Isn't that bumper on the right fun? Just a bunch of horizontal stripes to brighten an old white van.

I pass this shop on my way to the yoga studio. It's located by the University of Dayton campus and this boutique provides a space for both emerging and established artists to showcase their works. UD's art building is just down the street from this frame store and the owners exhibit some of the students' artwork, too.

There are so many negative things that happen in this world and you can create positivity by showing some kindness.

 

happy valentine's day ❤️

Heartfelt wishes for a Happy Valentines Day!