Would the verb, ‘busy’ describe your day? Somehow, despite all the restrictions imposed on us since the virus changed our world, it seems we still can find ourselves amazingly busy. Too busy, in fact, to attempt to squeeze in a bit of self-care. Thankfully, there is a free, relatively easy activity we can do that can help you feel better and does not involve a large chunk of time: Stretching.
When our oldest granddaughter was around two years old, her favorites things were strawberries, swinging, and ‘dance-dance-2’. The dance program was a video game that included a dance pad. The idea was to watch the TV screen and place your feet where the animated characters placed theirs. Some friends of mine and I discovered it when volunteering at our church’s youth group. Watching the kids play the game, we saw how much fun it was, and what a great form of exercise it offered.
As I sit down to write, I look out the window and notice how gray the day seems to be. The skies are gray and a bit misty as the rain drizzles down. The birds are not active – most of them have taken shelter in trees. I can spot the red feathers of cardinals peeking out under leaves – decorating the large beach tree in our back yard. Today’s weather mirrors the topic I am planning to write about. Grief.
I recently read an article about the seriousness of dehydration. It can have severe effects – especially in older folks. Among other things, it cautions that dehydration can cause symptoms that resemble dementia. Unfortunately, it is not always obvious when someone is suffering from a lack of fluids.
You reach into your mailbox and pull out the mail and begin to absentmindedly flip through the bills and junk mail. But then you spot it. A colorful envelope, familiar handwriting. Checking the return address, you carefully open it up and begin to read. All thoughts of bills and junk mail float away as you savor the words.
With the holiday season behind us, it is time to consider, ‘what’s next?’ At some point during the gray and frosty days of winter, my thoughts turn to garden planning. It’s not that I haven’t already been giving my gardens any thought, it’s just that there are always so many other topics occupying my time during the holidays that my garden isn’t given as much attention as I would like. But, with the new year beginning to bloom full of hope and promise for a better year, I can focus more on this year’s garden plan.
I’d like you to meet Jerry and Ilse Cauble. I hope you enjoy their story as much as I did.
As a child, Ilse remembered that their family always had an Advent Calendar – which was first used by Germans – to count the days in anticipation of Christmas beginning in early December. She also recalled that the children were not allowed to see the tree until Christmas Eve. The room the tree sat in was closed off while her Mother decorated it festively with balls, handmade ornaments, and candles. Everyone waited excitedly for the moment when the candles were lit and the tree was revealed. The children were also excited about the pending arrival of a beautiful angelic figure with blond hair and wings referred to as ‘Christkind’, (whom they never actually saw) on Christmas Eve. Christkind left them presents such as a small sack of fruit and candy.
Along with the joys of being with family, this season up north offers the splendor of spectacular fall foliage and juicy, crisp apples. I love apples. One of the traditions that my husband has established with our grandsons is to hike a nature trail that has a lot of wild apple trees. They produce smaller apples, but the boys like them well enough. There are numerous deer who roam the area, and the ones they don’t eat, they feed to the deer. It turns out deer also love apples.
I am a collector of stories. It is my experience that some of those who have lived the longest have the most interesting tales to tell – if not simply due to the fact that time brings change. For folks who pursue their passion and fight the good fight on a daily basis. They are the dreamers and inventors – re-inventers of destiny. Their stories shed light on how extraordinary they truly are.
I’d like you to meet Sang and Frances Lee. I hope you enjoy their story as much as I did.
When our son, Ryan was young, his favorite book was “Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb” by Al Perkins. We read it to him over and over, and over again. It is a fun, rhythmic read.
In fact, it became so embedded into my brain, that anytime the subject of ‘thumb’ is brought up, the line, “Hand, hand, fingers thumb, dum, ditty, dum ditty dum, dum dum,” rolls through my head…and then gets stuck there.