hyacinths

 

It is pouring down rain as I write this. I love the sound of it on the roof. And we need the moisture. The ponds along my route home need rainwater to fill them. We have endured drought conditions through  number of seasons recently.
I hope the rain will also be good for my hyacinths outside beside the front walk.
The ones I plant inside seem to do just fine. For some reason, though, those in the flower bed out front are rather poorly blooming.
I love everything about hyacinths. Pehaps because my Grandmother grew the prettiest tallest fullest ones imagineable I grew to love them early. Their scent brings her to mind as surely as the smell of  gardenia, which she wore in the form of sachet.

Deliberate intentions

Here are the things I intend to work on in my new birthday year:

I intend to practice wellness
I intend to avail myself of more movie and book classics
I intend better use equipment (tutorials)
I intend to do Christmas projects way ahead
I intend to be better prepared and organized than I have been of late.

Most of my life, I have accomplished only that I deliberately set out to. The more deliberate intentions my intentions; the greater the chance I will attain the goals I set.

Those five things are enough for me to contend with right now. Like my aforementioned resolutions, I need to keep these manageable. That there is some overlap betweent those two lists can't hurt.

Family lore

When my cousin came down from Kansas to visit a couple of weeks ago, we swapped stories and recollections about relatives we have in common. A number of the tales matched almost completely. Some of them different in detail. Some were altogether different.
Sometimes it was me who corrected his stories. Sometimes it was him correcting mine.
"No, no," I found myself saying. "That wasn't Uncle Buddy, that was Uncle Ball." 
He did the same.

"Not Doris,"  he corrected me, "It was Aunt DD..."
Last weekend I tried to get clarification (ok, affirmation) from my Mom.
Was it his version or mine that was correct?
My sister was some help on some of the facts. Mother was a bit less helpful. I accused her of not paying attention.
Then I realized that for much of what we discussed, she would have no way of knowing. It was kid stuff. Our version of what and who and how is particular to us.
What we observed and heard and how we observed and heard it is not at all as adults would.
So begs the question: just how accurate are our memories? Just how true are our versions of family lore?
My sisters and I are planning a road trip in a few weeks and I can hardly wait to bounce some of my recollections off them. At the risk of getting my world rocked, I at least want to find out how much of it we three agree upon!

Bucket Lists

I liked the Morgan Freeman/Jack Nicholson movie "Bucket List" very much.
Soon after seeing it I began to make a mental list of things I hope to do someday.
Usually, I start my list, not on New Year's, but as my birthday approaches (see earlier blog.)
I am a list maker.
I have been accused of writing things down I have already done just so I could cross it off my list. well, maybe...
But fairly recently, I've crossed off:
attending a Transiberian Orchestra Concert at Christmas time
going to Italy
spending time with old friends
taking a trip by train,
Less recently I have:

seen the Mona Lisa at the Louvre and walked down the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles
I have peered into the Grand Canyon
and paddled a kayak on the brilliantly clear water off Grand Cayman.

By now, I have accepted that I will never dance on pointe.

I will never be an ace tennis player.
I can't carry a tune in a bucket and this side of Heaven, probably never will.
My father-in-law gave up on turning me into a golfer though he was pleased with what a good shot I am on the gun range.
I won an archery award at summer camp and I can still hit at target with a bow and arrow.
I am pretty sure that my snow and water skiing days are over.
I never wanted to parachute.
I never wanted to climb Mt. Everest.
Mostly I want to travel. Most of the place I want to visit I learned of in movies. Or songs. Or both.
With a few, there is a familial connection.
I want to visit Scotland, most especially the Isle of Skye.
I hope that before I breathe my last, I get to do at least a few more of the things on my bucket list.
 Morgan Freeman died last month. I hope he got to do everything on his.

my bucket list

The last week of February is always something like New Year's for me.
It marks the last few days before my birthday. It is a time of reflection:
what I did since last birthday
what I would like to do before my next one.
It's when I make my annual bucket list: some seven or eight weeks after most folks.

Many of the items on my bucket list involved travel.
There's alot of the world I want to see.

I want to see:
The Dolomites and the Alps (though I doubt I could ski them  at this point)
I want to take an Alaskan Cruise folks I know who have been on one say on a scale of one to ten; it's an eleven.

I want to visit the Yellowstone, the Tetons and/or Yosemite National Park(s).
I want to take my grandbaby to New York City some day.
I have wanted to take a riverboat cruise down the Mississippi since Rhett and Scarlett's honeymoon scene from "Gone With the Wind" first enamoured me of the idea.

For many years I've wanted to serve as a chaperone on my cousin Eva's bi-annual trek to the Germanic states with her junior and senior students. (This is because I love my cousin and the setting for the "Sound of Music.")
New Zealand (because of The Lord of the Ring movies)
Most of all, I hope to visit my family's ancestral home on the Isle of Skye.

Closer to home, I want to see:
the ducks at the Peabody in Memphis
(we missed them twice this summer; both times we arrived just about a half hour before they marched off for the night.)


I would like to learn to knit.
I intend, still, to finish a children's book I started a decade ago.
That's all that is currently on my list.
There is a lot I've been able to check off.
I hope there will be more to check off still...

on virtual farming

My sisters and I were fiercely competitive when we were children. Especially when it came to playing cards and board games.
These days, the more they win, the better I like it. In all things. Save one.
The baby sister and I both play a Facebook game called "Farmville."
We both began as accidental players. Here is how it happened:
Her youngest child, who is my youngest nephew was about to turn three. As preparation for his birthday party went on, he began to make a nuisance of himself. It fell to me to entertain him.
Back then, he was a big fan of animated videos. His particular favorite was called "dancing cows."
I settled in with  my little guy in his dad's study only to discover there was only one dancing cow video, not a series. On about the dozenth time through, I began cajoling... let's see if we can find more cows on the computer.

We ended up finding cows on a Facebook game called "Farmville." It kept him busy for the time his Mama and mine needed to finish the cupcakes and make gift bags. It has kept me busy for lots longer.
At first the little farm was his and I "worked" it only when he was with me. Once in a while he would ask if I'd fed his cows and I would sign on and tend them.
Eventually, he talked his mother into creating a farm he could play. I would send him things from my farm and she sent me things from his. Some of our friends also had virtual farms. Long after both the nephew and most of the friends abandoned the game, baby sister and I still play.
A lot of the reason why is that we compete. "What level is your dairy?" she asked me last week. I hated to tell her 13 because I knew she had to at least be a level 20. I've been all weekend trying to catch her.
It's a rather mindless and therapeutic thing for me to do. She says the same.
Periodically, she works my farm. And my daughter's. and my nephew's.and my Mother's.
She says it is because she has been struggling with insomnia.
I know that it it really so she can beat me.

Road trip

The hub and I have not taken a road trip in a while. Today we are heading out on a much overdue long weekend away.
We're meeting friends in Branson, Mo for some R&R.

Listening to good music.
Two stops  already: a small town bakery on the route for a loaf of Black Forest break to take to our hosts and to see our baby girl and granddog as we were passing through.
A long stretch of road and a great deal of good music and conversation are before us.
I am ready for them!

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