Some Things Don't Change

 

I found this poem I wrote a couple of years ago.  It goes to show some things just don't change.  

Resolutions

I resolved to do better this year.

I would eat right, exercise, and think pretty thoughts.

I would get organized by February.

The house would be clean.

The fridge purged of lean cuisune.

The laundry washed, dried and put away

All in a single day.

The closets would be straight

And I wouldn’t even stay up late.

I’d read—not watch crime

And I’d do better with my time.

But April is now descending upon me.

And I wonder how this could be.

The house is topsy-turvy.

The laundry needs to be done.

The vacuum run,

And the closets are screaming for help.

Even the maid who was heaven sent

Has now given me up for Lent.

But the year isn’t over.

There is time left.

Surely I can find a solution.

So let it be said

While I’m in my right head

I will not make any more resolutions.

Hugs

Isn't it wonderful to see someone and they give you a great hug?  I love to get hugs, don't you?  It doesn't even have to be after several loads of days have gone by.  It can be just after a few hours of seeing someone.

There are so many kinds of hugs--you know what I mean.  Some are those that are "almost hugs" for appearance sake.  In those hugs, there is usually little if any actual touching one another.  It may be like an arm partially around the other person and a "body lean in." 

This motion is quickly followed by the typical social comments--"Good to see you.  How's it going?"   But, most importantly, it is followed by a quick withdrawal--usually to the other side of the room.  These are often the "party hugs." 

Then there is the hug that's a little too long.  Generally, these are from those who have maybe, say, a different agenda than you do.  You do your best to avoid their hugs at all costs--unless...oh never mind that thought.  I don't know what I was thinking--I promise!

Of course there is the genuine hug that is when both arms go around your body or neck with a short squeeze included.  Hmm, those are nice.  They are given freely from old friends, moms and dads, children you haven't seen or won't see for awhile and maybe a few other special people.

Oh, and don't forget the hug from the grandchild or even any little one.  They are so pure and sweet.  Today, in fact, when the grandson woke up (of course in my arms), he looked up, smiled, and gave me a hug and a sweet kiss on the mouth no less.  So unsolicited.  So wonderful.

Even doing story times at the church, the children come give my legs hugs.  And did you know that with children, hugs generate hugs?  All of a sudden I will have a herd of children grabbing and hugging my legs or hugging someone who is hugging my legs. If you ever want to feel really important, read some stories to children.  They are so eager to express their adoration.  It does your soul good and you can easily get a few hugs.

Then occasionally, you will run across someone--sometimes male, sometimes female--that can give the ultimate hug.  That is when their shoulders as well as their arms encircle you; their shoulders mold around you and make you feel totally important to them.  Wow!  You feel empowered yet you wonder how they learned to hug so--well, so right.  It's like they are surrounding you with comfort, friendship, and mutual respect. 

I have a few friends that know how to hug like that and it always takes me back a bit with delight.  I love it and want to be that kind of hugger myself, but most often I forget with friends and acquaintances and give the hug that is somewhere between the same-o "glad to see ya hug," "we'll be friends forever hug" and "I can't really remember your name, but I know I know you" hug. 

I think I'll go practice my hugs on my husband and surprise the heck out of him.  I wonder:  Can you give one of those hugs when another is soaked into the sofa watching TV?

I'll let you know and maybe it will be before too many wagon loads of days go by again.  In the meantime, go give someone a really, really good hug.

I Love My Brother!

It had been many wagon loads of day since I talked to my brother.  So on my drive to Memphis on a recent Friday, I called him.   Actually, had I realized it was Friday, not Saturday, I would not have called because I would have known he was at work as most people are unless they are "retired" like me.  When you are not going to work every day, you forget what day it is--not the DATE-the DAY!  

Nevertheless, I called his house and he answered.  He just happened to be home on Friday because his office was being painted.  My good fortune.

I love my brother.

I've always looked up to him and rightfully so.  He grew up being a hard worker.  For example, he had a paper route when he was young--in his teens--a time when most teens would rather sleep than anything else.  He would get up every morning before any wagon loads of day peeked into the sky--including Sundays--to deliver the morning paper.
 
My sister and I learned his route once so he could take a trip.  My stars--even if there were nothing else to admire about him, that would be worthy.

He had drawn a map for us, pointed out the houses in person for us, and was very conscientious about trying to train us on his route.  We were very sure we knew what to do.  Honestly!  We were not stupid.

But my oh my--all those houses looked alike at 4:30-5:00 in the morning.  Which ones got papers?  Which ones didn't? Anyway, my sister and I did it and I don't think he ever told us how many complaints he got afterwards.  

And we just did it for maybe a day or two, but he would get up early every morning and roll the papers, throw them (and got them on the porch, for heaven's sakes!  My sister and I tried to throw them but, obviously we threw them like girls.  So we would have to go get them--maybe even hunt for them and then walk them to the porches). 

He was so good at this that he would arrive back home before the neighborhood even woke up.   My sister and I did make it back home but well after a wagon load or two of sun had passed and well after most people in the neighborhood were having breakfast.  And I'm sure well after many fights between us.  ("It's that house."  "No, it's that one!"  "You go find it.  But you threw it...")

Another memory of growing up with my brother:  The junior high we attended was just across a overgrown field from our house.  One could walk around the three blocks of paved streets to get to school, but Lane, energetic and clever as he was, mowed a straight path from our backyard to the street in front of our junior high.  My sister and I walked that path over and over again after he had moved on to a motorcycle and high school.

Our parents taught us all about working hard, loving each other, and doing our best.  We learned that lesson well.  (I have the finest siblings ever.)  However, it seemed to me back then that my brother did his work without complaining.  Can you imagine?  I wasn't always so cheerful and eager to do chores.  But he just did his jobs and still does. 
 
He is so outstanding in so many ways--as a leader--first in his schools, now in his church and community--as an excellent student, as a real friend, and as a great athlete.   He played football from junior high through college--usually as quarterback or half back and I think I saw every game.

He played baseball as a kid (I learned to say, "Hey, batterbatterbatter" while watching him play); he plays golf; he runs (like miles at a time and with his daughters and their families, so it's not just his word for it:)  He can wash dishes with the best of them, build bookshelves, labor in the yard, and teach an adult Sunday School class.  (Maybe under his finely tailored clothes he really dons a Superman suit.  I think I hit on his success right there!  But I won't tell anyone.  I promise)

I love my brother.

Obviously, I think highly of my sweet brother.  He has accomplished so much.  But above all, he is a really, really nice guy and a good person.  He loves people and they love him.   He does things I only wish I would be disciplined enough to do.  He lives his life never forgetting to be a loving, Christian man.  He doesn't judge, condemn, or criticize, but rather he accepts people as they are and thinks of them according to their strengths not their weaknesses.  

I love my brother.  All his sisters do.

Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with such a fine family that includes such a great brother.

And I will not wait as many wagon loads of day before I call him again.


  

She Can Do It All

(I wrote this post a few weeks ago and then I thought it went to cyber heaven.  How glad I was when I found it today!)


Yes, I know.  It's been several wagon loads of days since I have set down here to share some of my thoughts.   Now, if I were my friend who can do it all, posting my blog would have been done long before the wagon load of day even thought about crossing the sky a month ago.

It's hard to believe a month has gone by and a lot of great things have occurred during the month.  But today my thoughts are about my friend, Margaret, who can really and truly do it all.

I am sure that you know a person who can cook up a storm, or one (surely there are not too many) who even cleans her house from top to bottom--maybe even the baseboards--on a regular basis (ugh!) and maybe you even know one who irons the sheets, or one that can sew a bedspread or curtains or both in the same day.  Or one that has her own tool belt and knows how to use the tools.

But how many women can you think of that can do all of the above?   Plus play bridge?   And keep a beautiful garden?   And knows how to enjoy a glass of wine?  And enjoys laughing?  And can create a gourmet meal in a few minutes?  I could go on and on.

Margaret is that kind of person.  She is a hundred pounds of ability and she goes a hundred miles an hour each day.  (Hmmmm-it just dawned on me--maybe if I went at that speed I might get more done.  But then again, can I go at that speed even if I tried?  I don't think so.)

You don't find many like her.  In fact, I would say that Margaret is one of a kind.  She not only is so talented in the ways mentioned, she is also so helpful.  When she sees where she can help, she does.  (And since I usually need lots of help, I love having her around!)

Now here is the best thing about my friend for thirty-five or so years...she loves me and my family.

The fact that she loves my daughters, my sons-in-law, and our grandson means more than the best gourmet meal she can prepare (and let me tell you there have been many of those!)  She even loves my husband.  (They are both very smart and try to outsmart each other on a regular basis.  Fun to watch!)

In fact, there have been so many fun times with her and our husbands over the years including vacations to Florida, tennis matches, Trivia Pursuit matches (that ages us, doesn't it?), Mountain View trips, and many dinners and nights out.  The memories make me smile and the jokes and laughter between us fill my heart with gladness.

How lucky I am to have such a friend.  When she's around, the wagon loads of day are definitely better.

Thanks, my friend who can do it all.  You are a treasure.

Changes

A little bit of winter crept its way into the wagon load of day this morning.  Just a touch to remind us that soon we won't be seeing the beautiful leaves turning colors nor even the leaves on the trees.  Of course we all know that Arkansas winters are fickle.  The middle of December can produce a day much like  this--crisp but sunny. 

But change is definitely in the air.   Change manifests itself in many ways and it's not only in the seasons. 

Today it is the moving truck outside our neighbor's home.   I knew this day was coming for a couple of months but I wasn't ready for it.  It has produced a sense of sorrow for me.  The sorrow is for a lost opportunity.  She has been my neighbor for 6 months and I have visited with her only a handful of times.  I am sorry for that and told her so today as I gave her a goodbye hug. 

We could have been good friends; we could have enjoyed going out to dinner and sharing a bottle of wine.  We could have started our day with a cup of coffee together and encouraged each other to do the things on our lists for the day. It would have been fun to have a real neighbor that I honestly knew not just waved to while passing. 

So as I watch the boxes being loaded and soon the truck pulling away, change is taking place.  Will I take this unwanted change and learn from it?  Will I seize opportunities as they come my way and embrace them?  Will I make the effort next time before it is too late? 

Will I change?

The answer I guess will be found in the next few wagon loads of day.  I hope so.

Becoming an Entreprenuer (of Sorts)

I think I woke up yesterday before any wagon loads of day went by at all.  It was still dark and the house was still very quiet.  No dog nudging me; no husband clinging glasses around; no Today show on.  So why didn't I turn over and try to wait for the wagon loads to start their journey across the sky.

Well, it's because I have a lot on my mind.  I am preparing to try my hand (with a girlfriend) at having a booth at a flea market/antique mall.

Isn't that how Sam Walton started???  Sorta, kinda, maybe???


My friend and I had talked about doing this for the last few Tuesdays when we would get together for lunch and shopping.  (She likes to call our get-togethers "Tuesdays with Leta."  I don't know that we could write a book about that, not just because someone else has done so with "Morrie," but because we do very little constructive except to laugh and laugh.  I guess that's good though.)

Anyway,  my goal in having a booth is two-fold--one is to reduce the load of treasures I have stored in the attic and two is to sell some of my art that I have been doing for a good while.  I've come to realize that you can only give so many pieces of art that you create to friends and relatives for gifts.  I make more (because I love it) than I can give away.  So I hope some people will buy them.  I promise they will be my new best friends if they do!

Then my friend's hope was to empty some out of the storage rooms she is paying a monthly fee for.  Evidently, the storage rooms are very full with furniture, etc. that she can't use in her present residence.

Those are noble goals, right.  But it can't be denied either that we both just like going to antique malls.  For that matter, who doesn't?  (Never mind--I realize many are like one of my sisters.  She can breeze through a gigantic mall before I get through the first booth.)

But then that may be the reason I have so much in my attic.  As I think about it, there is most likely a direct correlation between the two.  Nevertheless, going "antiquing" is something else I enjoy doing.  Nothing is wrong with that, right?

Don't answer that--unless you agree with me.  (I have discovered that frequently a person wants others' opinion IF they agree with her or him.  Many times I, I mean she, will keep asking people until she finds one that does finally see the light and agrees!  Why others don't is beyond me.)

Well, I digress.  Back to the booth.  When we got the courage to sign up for a booth, we were told that there were 29 people ahead of us.  Oh well.  It dashed our dreams somewhat but we thought that would give us plenty of time to gather our valuable treasures.  We figured that maybe in a few months or years, we would be called. Even though I am quite aware of how "waiting lists" go, I was still surprised when we got a call last week only a week or two after being put on the infamous waiting list.

We were told we could come in and pick out the booth we wanted and after paying a deposit, we could start moving our stuff in even though the 1st wasn't until 3 days later.

Well, we decided on our booth (the smallest they had and the cheapest) and then it was the time of reckoning for me.

ALL that stuff living in the attic had to come downstairs.  ALL that stuff living in the attic had to be priced.  ALL that art stuff living in the guest house/art studio had to be brought in to go through.  ALL that stuff had to be loaded up in the car, unloaded in the booth and arranged in an inviting style.  And then ALL the stuff I decided not to take right now had to be stored (back in the attic???)  Why, oh why, do I have ALL that stuff???

With all the moving stuff, pricing stuff, bubble wrap and newspaper to protect the stuff, you can imagine the mess in the living room where I decided to work.  (Think, if you dare, yard sale.  Same kind of mess.)  It was in absolute disarray.  Even the poor dog was discombobulated.  He was unsure where it was safe to go.  As a matter of fact, I think my husband was too.  So that was what I had facing me in the early hours of this day.

The house hasn't yet fully recovered but there are things in the booth as you can see in photo.  I knew the booth was small but I am sure it shrunk.  It looks a little sparse now, but my friend hasn't put anything in yet.  I think she's worried that I've taken all the space.  In my opinion, it needs more treasures.  In fact, I added more today.  And, of course, there will be more tomorrow.
 
And then, hopefully, there will be less and less eventually, you think?  I really hope so.  I need to get rid of some of these things.


But while I was in the antique mall, I found this really cute....



Okay, I guess I'll wait for a few wagon loads of day to go by before I start adding to my attic collection.

Maybe.

A Really Special Birthday

I can't tell you how many loads of day this lovely friend of mine has seen.  But I can tell you she is special.  And she is having a birthday soon--today in fact!  Here is your birthday cake, Milly!  No calories--no mess!


Although I have known her for a long time, I really got to know what a wonderful person she is when we went to London together.  (Actually, her daughter--my friend Becky--went along too.  That's how I came to know her in the first place.)  

We had more fun exploring London and the countryside.  I can't tell you how hard it was for us "younguns" to keep up with her.  We got to London and didn't let jet lag stop us.  On to the Changing of the Guard we charged after throwing our suitcases in the charming little hotel with the Peter Pan windows.  We walked a million miles and we also "minded the gap" on many a subway without missing a beat early in the morning or late at night.

We even managed to take in a play the first night.  It was so thrilling to be in London at the theatre with my friends seeing "Oliver" performed.  Ahhh.  I love the thought of it even now.  However, I don't think I have ever told anyone this even after all these years, but I must admit I dozed a little during the play.  The time difference was catching up with me.  But I am sure Milly didn't sleep a wink.  She never wanted to miss a thing. (She probably knew I slept a bit but she kept it to herself!)

Being generous and kind with others, being encouraging, always smiling--that's Milly. 

When we returned from our wonderful trip, I decided that we had to continue our English adventure, so I invited Milly and her daughter to a tea in the garden in my backyard.  Eagerly, I met them at the front door and was tickled to see them gracefully walking up the drive in their hats, gloves, and I'm sure "sensible shoes!"  How English!  They may have even have given me the "royal wave."  It was so fun.  Come to find out the hat and gloves were Milly's ideas!  Fantastic! 

That's another reason I love and respect her so much.   She is willing to have fun and if you know me at all I love a good time!  Yet she doesn't have fun at others' expense.  She seems to know and understand what makes a person tick and she finds ways to encourage them.

One way Milly has always been so good in encouraging others is through her letter writing.  She has always had such a wonderful way with words.  She has sent many a letter of thanks or encouragement and concern to those needing to know that someone was thinking about them.  She wrote me a note once that I have kept ever since (about 12 years or so and I even know where it is today [surprisingly] and I treasure it). 


Reading those nice thoughts written so long ago still touches my heart.  (But that is just the kind of thing she does and has always done.)  I love having such wonderful experiences with her and be able to learn from her.  As I face each day for the rest of my life, I hope to exhibit some of the wonderful qualities she has of courage, patience, love, and devotion to others.  She is a beautiful person.






So I wish her a most wonderful birthday and hope that with every wagon load of day--tomorrow and everyday--she will be blessed.  She deserves it.   Happy Birthday, Milly--my sweet friend.