Tag: learn by doing
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Try Again
I just returned home from my friends house, Lady A, to take care of her flowers while she’s away. It’s an honor to be asked to care for someone else’s domain. It makes my heart happy to purchase a plant and watch it thrive, while knowing full well, I had purchased the same plant a…
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Fountain of Wisdom
His back door opens earlier than the normal 10:00am. Occasionally it opens as early as 8:00 am and you can find him standing on his deck, holding the side rail as if assessing the new day. I smile seeing him standing outside this early. I don’t worry about Mr. Mike anymore because he let a…
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The Agility Test
My neighbor, Mr. Mike, has backed his trucked into his garage for as long as I’ve known him. I wonder if it’s some kind of test for him personally, like the day he backs into the house is when he parks his truck for good, or maybe it’s just a guy thing because the flow…
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Propagate
My hairdresser loves plants and her studio is starting to feel like a jungle which works for me. She has this one plant I’ve always admired and she offered to get me one, but they’ve been sold out every time she goes to market. On a recent visit I asked her to cut me a…
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The Age of Endless Possibilities
I have a tendency to go, ‘all-in’, on whatever I choose to do, but thankfully, with age, I’m reminded there are steps. Learning something new in reverse is where I find myself with watercolors, but I had to relax and soften my ‘can do’ attitude. I got reeled in on Instagram by a watercolor book…
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When Someday Arrives
It was years ago when I purchased the little planter with a face and before I had any houseplants. I loved it the moment I laid eyes on it in a local florist shoppe and knew it was made for a plant, but I used it as a kitchen tool caddy. Recently, I rearranged the…
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Cooking for One-Creamy Mushroom Pasta
My daughter knows the quickest way to get me to go to the grocery store is if I’m dangerously close to running out of half and half. It’s pretty much the same way with butter and there’s always a fresh container of whipping cream in the fridge. My favorite sauce is a cream sauce and…
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The Draft Folder
It’s not enjoyable for me to have an overflowing draft folder on this blogsite, but then again I don’t like clutter and a collection of drafts feels like clutter. This year I began experimenting with doing things differently and the draft folder was one of them, so maybe you’ll find this helpful. We never know…
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Ritual for Mornings
Your heart and soul know what you need, and what it wants, but the plan doesn’t deviate. To sum it up in one word, I’d choose ‘water’, and it’s a series of small things that water mine. Over the weekend, I made a decision to take time for ritual, especially in the morning. I’d noticed…
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The Open Road
A couple of years ago I met a guy who loves motorcycles. Now, this isn’t a phenomenon by any means, but he just seemed to live for them. He grew up in California and raced dirt bikes as a kid, but the kid in him never outgrew that feeling of adventure. He could tell you…
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Permission to Rest
It’s one of the most difficult practices I’ve taken on and has taken all year to come to terms with it. I was born the very last year of the boomer generation, so I learned how to be ‘driven’ and some would say harnessed an ‘over achiever’ attitude. If you rested, you were being lazy…
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Better Done Than Perfect
I thought about turning it off before slipping into bed, but left it on. The ceiling fan above the bed is still set for summer cooling, but I’m not sure summer is still here. This morning when my feet touched the floor, it felt cool and so did the temperature of the bedroom. The fan…
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A Sacred Space
You must have a room, or a certain hour of the day, or so where you do not know what is in the morning paper. A place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are, and what you might be. At first, you may find nothing’s happening, but if you have a…
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Share What You Know
It was this time last year that I was walking though Wal-Mart when I cut through the grocery department and noticed two young girls, no more than 20 years old, walking toward me. They were squinting at a list that had been torn from a small notepad. No doubt handwritten and most likely in cursive.…
