Dose Dos--Remember When

I never finished writing this post originally so I never published it.  I was gonna delete it, but then figured that this was a record of the change from a very challenging time to one filled with hope.  I wanted to keep this memory.  Sometimes a blog can be less of a communication tool and more of a personal journal.  This is one of those times.

March 29, 2021.  We got up this morning and headed off for our second Pfizer vaccination. I might have been a little anxious since I had a nightmare that involved a low-speed car crash right into a small tree.  But we were up in time, had no auto incidents on the way, and were at the pharmacy in plenty of time!

What a difference three weeks can make.  There was no hour-long queue to wait in while cringing away from other people who somehow, even after nine months of Covid19 warnings, still didn't know how to properly social distance.  Heck, there was no line at all.  We walked right up to the check-in desk, handed in our paperwork, had our temperatures taken, sat down waiting for our names to be called and had our shots in less than five minutes.  It took longer to sit in the waiting area afterward than it did to walk up and get our jabs!

Since then, we had Easter dinner with a vaccinated family and I got to hug my mom for the first time in a year. Last week I took her to one of our local nursery/gift shops just because we didn't feel totally vulnerable and at risk.  

We are still very cautious in public, knowing that there are no one hundred percent guarantees and cognizant of the new variants swirling around.  I won't be eating in a restaurant or enjoying a movie theater anytime soon.  But I'm gaining confidence outdoors and not totally freaking out when there are more people in one place than I'm used to.  We do masks and social distancing and keep tabs on family, friends and co-workers who are getting vaccinated so we know when we can relax and enjoy their company.

I may be safer, but I'm still keeping up on the latest science.  I won't be getting cocky anytime soon.  I've seen the statistics on B.1.1.7 and they are scary.  My neighbor had a scan recently and asked if they could include his lungs since they were "in the vicinity" and his radiologist agreed since he knew why he asked (he caught Covid19 during a chemo infusion). My neighbor's lungs are thakfully clear and healthy.  But the radiologist shared that he'd just seen the lungs of someone who had a mild case of the coronavirus and he called them coal miner lungs.  Why one guy and not the other? This virus can affect vital organs in ways that we are still learning about.   

There is no downside to getting the vaccine.  Still a happy camper here...ready for springtime, outdoor activities, visiting with neighbors (all of us vaccinated), and lots and lots of gardening!

 

I Spell Relief "V-A-C-C-I-N-E"

After the stress and difficulty of trying to find available vaccine and then trying to get an appointment, the relief I feel after receiving my first Covid19 shot is just off the charts.

I saw another blogger mention vaccinefinder.org site as a useful place to find one's local vaccine possibilities and it worked great for Nevada although I was less successful in helping family in Oregon.  I was able to choose a location, a time and even which vaccine I preferred.  

The pharmacy could have organized the wait line better, but the actual facility was well organized.  I know we spent less time filling out paperwork, getting our shot and waiting the requisite fifteen minutes of monitoring than we did waiting in a very unorganized and definitely not socially-distanced line. But it was worth it!

I could picture little yellow minions running up to the mRNA bits circulating in my arm, chattering to each other in alarm and then getting down to business dealing with the new invader.  I can hardly wait until they meet the enemy on the 29th when we are scheduled to receive our second dose!  

Our side effects?  So minimal that they are almost not worth mentioning!  The mild soreness at the injection site didn't stop me from completing my upper body weightlifting routine or interfere with a good night's sleep.  

I don't know how we'll feel after the second injection, but knowing that we are one step closer to visiting the grand-daughters and the great-grandson will be worth any discomfort.  

It's completely amazing to me that Pfizer and Moderna both completely prevented any deaths in the clinical trials.  And that hospitalizations due to severe symptoms were non-existent.  I have so much respect and admiration for the scientists who worked on vaccine research that I can't even put it into words.  

It feels like a whole new world of possibilities has opened up.  Visiting with elderly relatives maskless!  Eventually travelling to hug our favorite kidlets!  Buying groceries knowing that I won't die or require hospitalization.  Might even chance some retail therapy to buy something that I don't need, on a whim.

Thank heavens I've lived in a time when polio and smallpox were conquered, when my children were protected from whooping cough and chicken pox (we have an extensive family history of shingles that I'm thrilled they won't have to suffer), and now we are fortunate to be rescued from the novel coronavirus. A safe vaccine that was created in less than a year, thanks to previous experience with SARS and cancer therapies. 

So, if you are on the fence, jump off and join me!  The grass really IS greener on this side!

Stay safe and healthy, friends.  Be kind and be thoughtful.

Be (Inspire)d #3

 

The Miracle of Morning

I thought I’d awaken to a world in mourning.
Heavy clouds crowding, a society storming.
But there’s something different on this golden morning.
Something magical in the sunlight, wide and warming.

I see a dad with a stroller taking a jog.
Across the street, a bright-eyed girl chases her dog.
A grandma on a porch fingers her rosaries.
She grins as her young neighbor brings her groceries.

While we might feel small, separate, and all alone,
Our people have never been more closely tethered.
The question isn’t if we can weather this unknown,
But how we will weather this unknown together.

So on this meaningful morn, we mourn and we mend.
Like light, we can’t be broken, even when we bend.

As one, we will defeat both despair and disease.
We stand with healthcare heroes and all employees;
With families, libraries, waiters, schools, artists;
Businesses, restaurants, and hospitals hit hardest.

We ignite not in the light, but in lack thereof,
For it is in loss that we truly learn to love.
In this chaos, we will discover clarity.
In suffering, we must find solidarity.

For it’s our grief that gives us our gratitude,
Shows us how to find hope, if we ever lose it.
So ensure that this ache wasn’t endured in vain:
Do not ignore the pain. Give it purpose. Use it.

Read children’s books, dance alone to DJ music.
Know that this distance will make our hearts grow fonder.
From these waves of woes our world will emerge stronger.

We’ll observe how the burdens braved by humankind
Are also the moments that make us humans kind;
Let each morning find us courageous, brought closer;
Heeding the light before the fight is over.
When this ends, we’ll smile sweetly, finally seeing
In testing times, we became the best of beings.

~Amanda Gorman

Be (Inspire)d #1

The future belongs to those who believe in the  beauty of their dreams.   

~Eleanor Roosevelt

Yes, it's Meadowsweet Cottage.  Wondering where the blog title is?  Me too! 

I'm reworking the header and realized I need to edit the image of the truck to include the blog name.  Silly me! It's been awhile since I played the blogging game so bear with me while I figure this out with a new photo editor.  I miss Picasa3!

My All-Time Very Favorite Wondrous Christmas Ornament

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I always refer to it as the Soap Bubble.

 

There's nothing better than sitting together on the loveseat and seeing all the magic and beauty of Christmas condensed into one perfect sphere. 

 

It reflects the special ornaments made by little hands, the cross-stitch beauties made by family, the Shiny Brites from my childhood, the elves from our first married Christmas, the satin ornaments we bought for our first tree, the spun-glass icicles, the wooden European ornaments, the teensy-tiny ornaments that glisten high up on the most delicate branches as well as each colorful lightbulb.

 

The Late, Great Pete Seeger

I grew up on folk songs.  I loved their message of hopefulness and their fearless pointing out of changes needed.  It didn't hurt that many songs were perfect for a neophyte guitar player.  So I discovered Pete Seeger early on and never stopped listening. 

Thanks, Pete, for "Where Have All The Young Girls Gone" and "If I Had A Hammer" and "Turn, Turn, Turn."  Thanks for taking a stand when you felt it was necessary.  Thanks for inspiring us and guiding us ever so gently to the "love between our brothers and our sisters all over this land."



 

Pete Seeger once said, "The key to the future of the world is finding the optimistic stories and letting them be known."   His gentle soul will be missed but never, ever forgotten.  Requiem in pacem.

Be (INSPIRE)d,
 

My Little Valentine

I'm a long-distance grandmother.  Doting...but way too far away.  So you can bet I cuddled Miss Rosie Rosebud, sang lullabies, changed diapers, pushed the stroller, and carried her around as much as possible on their first trip to see us.  We let her play with her Daddy's baby toys, pound on the toy piano that her great-aunt used, and fed her in the wooden high chair that's now serving a third generation.  In other words, I used every available moment to store up memories that will have to last until the next baby fix--hopefully Spring Break will find us at Casa Encantada once again.

Babies change daily and over the six months since we've seen her, she's changed from a newborn to a little person.  Oh, how I wish we were closer so we could absorb every little change!

Please put up with me for just a bit as I share my favorite memories from their recent visit. I spent my time reveling in our Rosebud instead of taking a zillion photos.  And since I'm the designated photographer, there's not one single photo of her and I together from this trip.  A mistake I won't make on the next visit!

 

There's a dimple in her right cheek. 

 She's still the queen of farts.  It's not as ladylike as a burp, but then burps aren't very feminine either.

Her socks fall off less than a minute after you put them on.  Thank heavens for tights.

If you eat in front of her without offering her a taste, she gives you the most offended look possible.

She has the bestest big sister in the universe.

The end of the turkey baster makes a pretty good binkie/toy.

I'm sure it's just coincidence that she usually spits up on you if you're wearing black but not if you wear tan or some spit-loving neutral color.  

I suspect she'll love roller coasters since she adores it when her Daddy gives her upside-down rides or giant side-to-side sways or rocket launches up near the ceiling.  

She somehow recognizes her Grandpa even from far away and gives him a special just-for-Grandpa smile.  

She's entranced with Mickey's Clubhouse and you can bet we're already thinking Disneyland.

On the other hand, her little lips quiver and her eyes fill with tears when her Uncle proceeds to show her that a lion roars.  I'm not sure whether to feel sorry for my son who makes her cry or to laugh at the response she inevitably gives.  Let's just say it's videoed it for posterity.

She learned to crawl forward instead of scooting herself backwards into a corner while she was here.

We finally solved the question of what happens when you take a blue-eyed boy and a brown-eyed girl and mix them up.  You get a darling hazel-eyed daughter with a curl on top. 

Thanks for letting my inner grandmother come out to play today.  

Bring joy,
 

My 2013 Inspiration

Bring Joy.

It's a phrase that has been popping up in front of my eyeballs on reader boards, holiday gift wrap and Christmas newsletters.  When the Universe chooses to send me messages, I know enough to listen!

I love the fact that each time I saw "bring joy" (or a variation thereof) it resonated so strongly with me.  I feel like it chose me rather than vice versa.

Bring.      Joy. 

Two separate words.  It's the "bring" that inspires and challenges me.  I have plenty of internal delight in my life and I need to externalize it.

My brain is already whirling with ways to fulfill it: extra-clean surfaces to delight my poor long-suffering husband who lives with my enthusiastically creative messes, small birthday treats for friends near and far, spreading random acts of kindness in unexpected places, fluffing my home and my workplace to provide a nourishing environment, disciplining my inner life to match the outer.  Or should that be making my outer jive with my inner?    So many possibilities!



So I'm on a mission for Twenty-Thirteen.  What a challenge to live up to!  Wish me luck.

Bring joy,
 

My Guideposts -- Week93

The mediocre teacher tells. 

The good teacher explains. 

The superior teacher demonstrates. 

The great teacher inspires.  

~William Arthur Ward 

Dedicated to all the Sandy Hook teachers

 

My Guideposts - Week86

For Pooh and the Professor

There is no controlling life.

Try corralling a lightning bolt, containing a tornado.  Dam a stream and it will create a new channel.  Resist, and the tide will sweep you off your feet.  Allow, and grace will carry you to higher ground.  

The only safety lies in letting it all in--the wild and the weak; fear, fantasies, failure and success.  When loss rips off the doors of the heart, or sadness veils your vision with despair, practice becomes simply bearing the truth.  In the choice to let go of your known way of being, the whole world is revealed to your new eyes.

   ~Dana Faulds

God grant them as many moments together as possible. 

 

My Guideposts - Week85

The moment you act as if something is so, the universe of infinite possibilities collapses into one inevitable happenstance. 

Quantum physicists assert that in any given moment, infinite possibilities are present.  Some go as far as to say that there are infinite universes coexisting.

When you look at something and say, 'This is what it is,' you are pouring your creative energy (attention and awareness) into that specific perception. The moment your awareness locks on to one possibility, all other universes collapse. 

~Gary Simmons 

The I of the Storm 

For my dear sister and brother-in-law

Prove It

I'm choosing to believe Lance Armstrong.

I've been watching him race since 1999 when my elder boylet was in Europe as a graduation present. Pierre was biking many of the same segments that the Tour de France riders were--Col du Madeleine, L'Alpe D'Huez, etc. I cheered for Lance and vicariously enjoyed the scenery that my son was biking.

And I became a fan of the Tour over the years, knowing the routes and rest days, marvelling at the calories each competitor used daily, watching the riders get thin and gaunt toward the end of the grueling rides through Europe, knowing the difference between the polka-dotted jersey, the green one and the white jersey.

(Having a kid who loves to compete in a sport will do that to a mom, especially if an American is breaking records at the same time.)

The French press was never enamoured of the brash Texan who'd claimed their race as his own personal stomping grounds.  But it delighted me that his detailed preparation for the storied Tour seemed so obvious and yet previously unheard of.  Ride the Col three times so you know every turn, every grade, every bush on the side and then beat the pants off the competition during that stage--how bizarre.

I know that doping is rampant.  Especially in the bicycling world.  So maybe he is just another rider taking advantage of loopholes or shortcuts to winning.  So say some of his teammates.  Certainly some of them have stooped to illegal means to win.  Armstrong is a perfectionist and the consummate competitor so I'm guessing he may not be the ultimate nice-guy boss.

Still, the guy probably has more urine stored around the world due to hundreds of tests, during and after races, than Scrooge McDuck has dollars.  And how many of those samples have tested positive for drugs of any kind? And those liquids are there for any future whiz-bang tests that are invented.  Given that probability, I wonder why the guy would constantly reiterate his innocence.

Anyway, if there were a trial and hearsay was all the evidence that was produced versus a gazillion clean laboratory reports...if I were a juror I know what my verdict would be.

I'm a Livestrong supporter too.  It's Not About The Bike still inspires me, especially now that our family is involved in two fights against cancer.  No matter how bad the news is, I realize that his diagnoses went from bad to horrendous and he still pulled through.  And then won seven Tours.  So, yeah, he represents hope to me and I don't want him to be guilty.

He is also, as my son says, "a freak of nature".  His body is physically suited to the crazy business of professional cycling.  He's figured out ways to use oxygen that most of us mere mortals can't even imagine.  And lactic acid--no problem.  So it's possible that between the intensive preparation, extensive training and a warrior's body, that he could just be blessed instead of using EPO or whatever.

I guess I'm firmly in the "innocent till proven guilty" camp. 

Naive? 

Maybe.

Time will tell. That's my two cents worth--stepping off my soapbox now,
 

Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud

It's true, y'know. 

Beautiful warm sixty degree day with sunshine? The cloud is the complete lack of winter precipitation and a looming drought.

 A freezer housing five assorted cartons of Ben and Jerry's (a gift from someone who didn't know my favorite)?  I'm undecided if the cloud on this one is the five hundred gazillion calories involved or the birthday that involved a zero.


Anyway, you get the idea.  It's too bad that the silver linings come with their own personal clouds, but they do.


There's lots of random smooching at our house and slow walks while holding hands.  It's very nice.  The cloud, however, is named non-Hodgkins lymphoma.


I have all day tomorrow off work.  The cloud is that I'll be spending it with my better half while he has his first chemo treatment.


This isn't going to turn into a cancer blog but I wanted you all to know what's been going on.  CT scans and biopsies and wishing we could get answers more quickly.  Also holidays and laundry and brushing the dogs.  A birthday, a bit of painting and some January decorating.  A lot of blog drafts that aren't publishable yet due to overactive brainwaves on a totally unrelated subject.


I know.  Some bloggers will use any excuse to explain why they haven't been posting as much as usual.

I'm stocking my Kindle with books to read and sorting through my projects for portable crafts--things to distract my mind and let me accomplish something productive when we're stuck in Doctorland.


Good vibes, positive thoughts and fervent prayers are all welcome! 

Hugs,
 

Giving Thanks

I have so much to be thankful for. Every night this month I've gone to sleep counting my blessings. It's more effective than counting sheep plus it puts a smile on my face!

I'm grateful for all the Big Things in life, of course, but the other items are like chocolate truffles--they make be small, but they make me feel rich. 

Like your comments; whether you're an old friend or a new visitor, they warm my heart.  Your visits come from sea to shining sea, from our northern neighbor, from eastern Europe, Oceania and beyond.  It's always a delightful surprise.

I'm wishing each and every one of you so many things to be thankful for that you fall asleep before you've reached the end of your list!  And that each of us finds even more things to be grateful for in the coming year.

Blessings,

Barn Charm

There's just something about them.

Simplicity.  Purpose.  Beauty.

Home to barn cats.  Barn owls. 

Clandestine nests of hens eggs.  Mewing kittens hidden among the hay bales.

 

Dusty saddles.  Miscellaneous horseshoes.  Odd tools.

And little girls who like to explore and grow up remembering barns with fondness.

The New Neighbors

Our newest neighbors took over an older home that badly needs some exterior paint, has lost the front porch and probably could use updating inside also.  

But this vintage cottage is situated in the shade of a large cherry tree, with a lovely brick patio and many flowers in the yard. I'm guessing they saw the potential in it.

Here's Dad looking askance at me while I photographed their new digs. He let me know in no uncertain terms that I was interrupting his very busy life.

My bad.

I wasn't offended to any degree; I have to agree that any parent of multiples has a lot on their hands. And I wasn't exactly helping them get on with the feeding schedule!

Mom wasn't thrilled by my interest either.  Social calls apparently aren't a priority for her just now.

The ruckus that those young'uns raise gets louder every day.  Mom and Dad pop in, feed those hungry mouths and rush out to grab more insects and swoop back in.

In.  (Peep, peep, peep. ) Out.

In.  (Peep, peep, peep.) Out.

The babies have fledged and I wouldn't be surprised if Mom and Dad introduced them to the neighborhood sometime very soon

.  

Hang in there, my busy little neighbors, you'll soon be empty-nesters with leisure to enjoy summer time.

Temporarily a landlady,

As You Wish

Happy Valentine's Day!

My wish for you today is a day inspired by The Princess Bride, Shakespeare in Love, Romeo and Juliet, Casablanca, Dirty Dancing, Aladdin, French Kiss--well, you get the picture.

Love.  True Love.

Whether it's from that special person in your life that makes your heart sing or whether it's from that other special person that greets you in the mirror each morning--doesn't matter. Today is our day to celebrate l'amour.

Love yourself.  Love the people around you.  Let yourself be loved.

You don't have to be rich to love, but love makes each of us rich.

With love to all you wonderful friends out there,

My Feathered Rainbow

Frodo

aka Mr. Underhill

 

Yeah, we're Tolkien fans.  And Frodo would burrow under my vest or sweater when he was a baby--hence his name.

We had him since he graduated from nest to cage bottom.  The Queen Mother's former neighbor was a parakeet lover and incidental breeder (leave twenty male and female parakeets together in a large cage and eventually you'll have more than twenty).  In the mild California climate, they lived outdoors year round.  I'd never seen any parakeets colored quite like hers and I was thrilled.  See all the color in Frodo's wing?  Most parakeets a la PetSmart have gray wings.  Sunshine yellow head.  And his face dots--deepest purple. Turquoise and glacier green body.  Intense cobalt tail feathers.  And as sweet as he was beautiful.

Frodo enjoyed getting the run of the house while I baked Christmas pie, kneaded bread and cooked cranberry sauce.  Most of the time he perched on my hair and supervised, but he decided to stretch his wings and inspect the Christmas decorations too.

Four days after this photo session, we found him on the bottom of his cage.  He'd flown to heaven and left us behind.  He had a good long life, but it was a sad end to our year.

I've spent the past week remembering his baby days when he'd cuddle...how he'd perch on my shoe while we sat in the recliner and watched TV...how he loved baths under the kitchen faucet...his extensive environmental vocabulary--our squeaky door, dog whistles, tinkling bells...his love of spinach leaves which he ate like a kid munching corn on the cob...trying his best to chat with our vacuum cleaner and blender...times when callers would ask how many birds we had when talking on the phone...how he played with silverware and loved getting it to drop off the dining table...how the frustrated dad in him would have him feeding the next best thing to a baby bird--the shiny bell in his cage...his appreciation of the tiny rhinestones in my reading glasses.  He wasn't our family's first parakeet, but he was my first.  Thinking about it, he would have been special even if he wasn't--he was an extraordinary character.

How can such a little bundle, weighing next to nothing, have been such a large part of our lives?

I miss you,  Frodo-bug.

Tickled By A Fiesta Ware Memory

What do you think of when you remember "Fiesta Ware?" Most of us immediately begin contemplating the gorgeous colors--indigo, butter yellow, turquoise, red--every color of the rainbow and then some. 

If you don't own some, I'd guess that your grandma or mom did or your best friend chose some for her bridal registry recently. Fiesta Ware is just one of those great ideas that never really go out of style. Maybe it's because there's a color for everyone or maybe it's because who could hate a dish named after a party?

My associations with Fiesta Ware are linked with cousinly expeditions underneath our grandma's ranch house.  (Turn a group of kids loose on a ranch without supervision while their moms visit and you don't have to worry about them until it's time to leave for home.)  Our great-grandparents built the ranch house, but our grandparents moved in a couple of years later and raised seven hellions of both sexes there.  Which may explain the interesting things we'd find on those occasions when the almost-inaudible meows of newborn kittens would lure us into the cool and spooky depths of a foundation carved into the California hillside.

Crawling past ancient spider webs, we'd eventually find a mommy barn cat smart enough to know that our grandma dished out cold leftover oatmeal conveniently near the icehouse and a nest of spitfire feral kittens who never appreciated our best intentions.

Along with new kittens, we'd also unearth old silverware and discarded Fiesta Ware.  Us girl cousins would start dragging out staples for a tea party in the apple orchard, but would get distracted by the boys, chickens, dogs, kittens, calves, flowers, lunch, uncles and/or peacocks.  Over time, the forks, spoons and dishes got closer and closer to our crawl hole entrance.

I treasure the things kept from that ranch house: 

one piece of indigo Fiesta Ware and a daisy-encrusted sugar spoon...along with a thousand sweet memories.