Tuesday, August 28, 2012

bloom


     Mary Engelbreit's art is so cheerful, with her colorful, fanciful flowers.  Whenever I hear "bloom where you're planted", I think of her designs.  It's true, we need to bloom wherever we are, and we don't always get to choose where that is.
     If we turn it around, though, we can come up with something like "plant yourself where you're going to bloom."   To a great extent, we can choose to surround ourselves with people, media, and other influences that encourage us and allow us to bloom, to grow, and to become our best self.
     I got a little geranium plant for Mother's Day this year and kept it in its pot, since I knew I'd be moving.  After the flower died, the plant didn't bloom again, despite my vigilant care.  When we moved into our new home, I planted the geranium in an outside pot.  I could almost see it perk up instantly.  It continues to thrive and now produces new flowers.

                               simple joy: an environment that helps us bloom



Wednesday, August 22, 2012

cow paths and skunk paths


I once heard that the streets of Boston were created from the paths of cows.  An old postcard says "In Boston town, of old renown, the gentle cows the pathways made, which grew the streets that keep the stranger quite dismayed."  I read that this is a myth, although it wouldn't surprise me to find it's true, having once been one of those dismayed strangers myself.

When my husband and I first moved to Boston and became frustrated at the maze of streets and lack of consistent One Way signs, we asked for a map at the Motor Vehicle Dept., or equivalent.  The response we received was something like, "If you can't navigate this town, then you don't belong here!"


After a few occasions of going the wrong way down one-way streets, we did become familiar with the area and absolutely loved living there.  So when I saw this sign, I chuckled, imagining what a mess it would be to pattern a town after skunk paths!



simple joy: memory triggers

Sunday, August 19, 2012

the county fair

     
      It's so easy to want more and more of something we like, but sometimes that completely ruins it.  Take county fairs, for instance.
     I went to our local county fair this week.  It was so small, I could see it all in an hour; I loved it!  I was very much taken with the chickens; so much variety!  The texture and color of the feathers, the expressions on their faces, the squawking and crowing and cackling.  Enjoy a glimpse and send me caption ideas for the last photo. :)

simple joy: just enough but not too much

The owner of this one used lime Kool-Aid



Tuesday, August 14, 2012

raspberry forest

photograph by Ellie Warren

We inherited a raspberry patch with the house we're renting.  It's more like a forest; most of the canes are taller than I am and there are pathways between the bushes, that I cleared of weeds.  It's prolific, and I've never had fresh raspberries so readily available.  Whenever I'm out picking them, I think of my mom.  She passed away nearly 3 years ago; she absolutely loved fresh raspberries.  I can recall her expression as she popped them into her mouth one by one, her eyes closed and a serene smile on her lips.  For her, eating raspberries was heaven on earth.  I hope there are fresh raspberries in Heaven. 


simple joys: mothers, memories, and fresh raspberries


Wednesday, August 8, 2012

more mail



     When I first saw our tiny post office, I giggled aloud.  I felt like I'd been transported back to the 1940s (which, really, wasn't all that long ago!)  I didn't think there was anything like this left, but there are probably a lot if you look for them.  The first time I went there, the post-mistress connected my name with my face and each time thereafter, she knows exactly who I am.  She always checks to see if I've had any packages come in, without even asking my name.
     Living in an area without readily-available public transportation, I'm very dependent on our cars.  I had to post a check this morning, but both cars were being used.  After the initial feeling of frustration, I thought silly me!  I have a bicycle and two legs.  So I rode my bike to the post office.   It's really not that far.  It was lovely; the road was quiet. Only 2 cars passed by.  Downhill on the way, uphill on the way back.  So glad my bike has gears.

simple joys: alternative modes of transportation and people who know you by name 

Saturday, August 4, 2012

From New York to London to Bonners Ferry, Idaho

Rainbow over the Kootenai River in northern Idaho


     I took this picture from the back porch of our home the other day.  Five years ago, living in Central London, I couldn't have imagined I'd be living in a place like this.
     Moving from a small town in Utah to the tiny suburb of an even smaller town in Idaho was more of a change than I expected.  But I breathed in the clean, fresh, pine-scented, oxygen-rich air and began to see and feel the beauty all around.
     Life, here, is real.  It's not as complicated.  Everyone's just trying to live, to make ends meet, to take care of their family and neighbors and community.  There isn't time for society's trappings.  There isn't time to judge someone else; no one cares what you're wearing or how your hair looks or what kind of car you drive. 
     There are deer and grizzlies and eagles and mountain lions.  Last month, we saw a girl roll her car after swerving to miss a deer.  The car was totaled, but thankfully the girl was all right.  We pulled over to help.  So did stranger after stranger.  Everyone was concerned; people wanted to do anything to help.  No one knew this girl, but that didn't matter.  Sometimes crisis brings out the best in people.  
                                        Simple joy: people helping people