office views {july 15, 2023}

Being retired, I work where I want and when I want. Right now my jobs are seasonal, volunteering a couple days a week to keep the gardens up at the downtown MetroParks and then my job at the farmer's market. I love these jobs. They're outside, I work with nice people, people thank us for what we do, and the views are special. A couple of the MetroParks are along the Great Miami River and during the summer the River fountains spray arcs of water hourly. It's so much fun to hear the initial whoosh, a few spurts as the water gets to full force, and then see the four river bank fountains arch to the the middle one.

The farm's views are full of fields, trays of veggies, and the small but busy parking lot. One of my favorite views is to look out over the rows of sunflowers at the barn. In 2020, an artist painted sunflowers and bees on the side of the barn. The mural is a tip of the hat to Mr. Treadway, who died in 2019. Bees and sunflowers bring smiles and sweetness to people. That was also the summer of COVID, where people flocked to our little market. It was a refuge where we followed all the protocols, masking and distancing.

Another favorite view is the couple of rows of zinnias that are planted just for kids. It's kind of like getting a kids cookie at the grocery store but instead the kids can pick out the zinnia they want and we'll cut it for them. Choosing the perfect color sometimes is a monumental decision! Treadway Gardens has been in business for 54 years now, so moms and dads who picked out a flower are now bringing their little ones to do the same.

the friday feed: decisions, decisions! {july 14, 2023}

 My brother and sister-in-law live in Tennessee and have purchased a condo in Dayton. T and I moved an old washer and dryer at their new place and the next day let the delivery men in to install their new washer and dryer.

My brother sent this pic to me: "Which one do you want?"

It's nice to have choices where you can't go wrong.

optimists {july 13, 2023}

I am an optimist. 

I look for the silver lining in tough situations. 

My mom called me Pollyanna. 

My friends called and still call me a cheerleader.

Hard work and a positive attitude can solve a lot of tough situations. Know your end goal. Even though the road may be tough, you can do it! Rah, rah!

 

wordy wednesday...spectrum {july 12, 2023}

The other day I read an article about the tendency to get less curious about new music as people age. Studies have been conducted which show that peoples’ willingness to explore new or unfamiliar music declines with age. Music gets wrapped up in the emotion and identity-formation of youth, and as that fades into settled adulthood, so does the connection to new sounds.That’s a pity because the thrill of discovering new songs and new sounds can enrich people of all ages. However, this is not universal. Some people remain adventurous music listeners.

So where this is going in the Wordy Wednesday way, is that I’ve found a new radio station on Sirius XM, Spectrum Radio, where classic rock meets new rock. It’s the spectrum of rock from the past, present, and future, bringing color to my musical listening.

My first recollection of learning about the word spectrum is the band of colors produced when sunlight is passed through a prism, comprising red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Simply said, ROYGBIV. 

Spectrum Unrefined Organic Sesame Oil is made with sesame seeds that have been gently expeller pressed and add a unique nutty and colorful flavor food dressings and sauces. 

My daughter's husband has a younger brother who is on the autism spectrum. He and his family have been involved with Autism Speaks. This organization's logo is a puzzle piece  which signifies the diversity of perspectives and experiences with autism spectrum disorder and signal the deepened commitment to inclusivity. The blue, pink, and white color palette of the Autism Speaks logo represents the purpose of the organization, its character, and its willingness to help. It also stands for loyalty and unity, responsibility, and caress, which are the main qualities of any non-profit organization, aiming to make the world better.

                                                                                                            

                                                                                                                     

Life is a painting, and you are the artist. You have on your palette all the colors in the spectrum - the same ones available to Michaelangelo and DaVinci. ~ Paul Meyer

finally! {july 11, 2023}

 

What a crazy summer it's been for the farmers. Drought in May, now lots of rain, and the Midwest has already had above and below normal temperatures. 

Out at the farm, the daily question starting in mid-June has been, "When are you getting corn?" People wanted their corn for their 4th of July festivities. The sweetcorn was barely knee high by the 4th of July. 

Then yesterday, at 9:30 in the morning, the corn farmer called and said he had 50 dozen ears for us. Woop woop! Bring on lots of happy customers! Time to to eat corn in its perfect form – freshly picked, boiled and eaten right off the cob with butter and salt.

Corn on the cob is one of the flavors of summer. Savor it and enthusiastically devour the bounty it brings.  The taste is just as sweet as the memories made. 

monday's mulling: erma bombeck {july 10, 2023}

One of Dayton's most beloved natives is Erma Bombeck, an American humorist, who became a household name in the 1970s and 1980s. She spoke for the women of an entire generation, revealing that being a housewife and a mother came with its own sets of concerns, and wasn’t necessarily a glamorous occupation. She wrote with hilarity and wit. She turned her views of daily life in the suburbs into satirical newspaper columns and best-selling books. The self-deprecating humor she employed in accounts of everyday crises of home and family struck a chord of familiarity among readers, who saw their lives mirrored in the situations she described. The Bombecks were America's first family of the refrigerator door. My mom clipped so many of Erma Bombeck's columns and taped them to the fridge.

Bombeck began writing columns when she was in junior high school. She worked at the Dayton Journal-Herald while she was in school and after graduation (1949) from the University of Dayton. She left the paper in 1953 to start a family, but later, with three children in school, she felt "too old for a paper route, too young for Social Security and too tired for an affair." She persuaded the editor of a suburban weekly to let her produce a column. The success of one of her books,  At Wit’s End, drew the attention of the Journal-Herald’s editor, who hired her to write three columns a week. A short time later her columns were syndicated and eventually appeared in more than 900 newspapers.

In 1992 she underwent a mastectomy and shortly afterward her kidneys began to fail. She underwent dialysis and was placed on waiting lists for a transplant, but though a donor match was found, she died of complications after the surgery.

Erma Bombeck is buried in Dayton’s Woodland Cemetery. The Bombecks' legacy includes the University of Dayton’s biennial Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, the only one in the country dedicated to both humor and human interest writing, a building at UD carrying the family name, their house on Cushwa Drive now on the National Register of Historic Places, and a street sign dedication. Dayton left an indelible imprint on the Bombecks and they, in turn, have left an enduring legacy in Dayton.

"I've seen the motherhood role played by men, grandparents, friends, aunts, and even social workers. It doesn't matter who plays it. What does matter that when the curtain goes up each day, someone is there to dazzle, ad-lib, support, comfort, listen, and fulfill what I feel is the most important role I'll be ever offered in my life. It's the only one I'll be remembered for." ~ Erma Bombeck

chuckle, chuckle {july 9, 2023}

Just one of those moments in time where my 8th grade brain kicked in...