Early Bloomers in Our Home Town

                                                        Photo by Molly A. Klaas

photo by Andrew Monaghan

Fungus is among us and it is lovely.

Wonderful World

17 May 2012

The most amazing thing happened today. The first magnolia bloomed in one of the many magnolia trees in the front yard. This particular tree is lackadaisical by nature. It is a late-bloomer. Maybe you can relate? Other magnolias are blooming all over town. But this…this one tree likes to wait. Make us anticipate. Anticipation is great, so no complaints. Waiting is fun. So each year when this tree’s first bloom appears, it is an event. After all these years doing its thing slowly but surely, it is amazing grace on a tree. A gift.

Seems this tree has a purpose for me. Each year it reminds me of the wonder of ‘firsts’—first loves, first kiss, all those things you remember as Firsts. The first time you rode a bike and looked back to see no one was holding you? Your first job? First hurt, first time you realized middle-age is a quirky time when you must re-learn every thing you thought you knew all over again. That mighty tree is proof everything happens in its own sweet time, not on any one or anything else’s schedule. The simple act of a wait-on-me magnolia blossom relates to that? I think so, maybe because I was as late a bloomer as this magnolia.

It is creamy white and fragrant. It unfolds on the tallest branch so no one can reach it. It does not give a hoot about keeping up with its peers. Its peers were donning themselves in blooms weeks ago. Yes, this magnolia births its first blossom so high no human could pick it without ample effort or equipment to reach the mighty treasure it put forth for nature’s sake only. It does not want to be a short-lived cut flower floating in a bowl. Admittedly I float and will continue to float many magnolias in a bowl, but not from this tree. It is different. It demands its efforts be, respectfully, left alone to do what it does best: bloom and re-seed.

Happy Birthday 2012, Michael

March 3rd

So many brothers I know are just fine yet

I would not trade the world for mine.

He is kind and smart, handsome and giving.

He is there for me always,

without fail he is loving ... in ‘all creatures big and small’ ways.

Sure, we had our spats in our younger days but

now, as we get more set in our ways

our bond is as special as Grandma Lalla’s pound cake lemon glaze.

Made with love it was so complete.

That glaze was such a yummy treat.

She made it just for you, because

you are just as sweet, oh dear brother of mine.

I am so grateful, my brother, we have each other.

After all, siblings are the only ones who share the

Mitochondrial DNA with one another (ha).

That said, no other ‘understanding’ can compete.

Happy Birthday, Michael.

May all your days be bright.

Thank you for all the guidance and insight.

There is goodness and love in all you see and touch.

Happy Birthday, Michael.

I love you so much.

Love,

Pooh

Elegant

Elegance

18 January 2012

She had the most down-to-earth air of well-deserved arrogance. That is what my friend said about my grandmother. Spot-on correct, he was.

Of course she would have flipped her wrist and pursed her lips at such a comment, as if to say ‘oh bosh’ I have nothing of the sort. She was not arrogant in the nasty sense of the word. It is just, well…she knew who she was, firmly and with conviction. The difference between right and wrong was as simple to her as snapping peas.

She knew what she was on this earth to do, and she did not mind telling you if you had just acted a fool, albeit fool is a word she did not utter, and she did not allow us to say it either. She said it was a sin to call someone a fool.

I used to tell her she was a saint. Quickly she would retort, “A saint I ain’t,” knowing full-well she would not allow us to say ‘ain’t’ lest we planted it in a clever euphemism.

But my grandmother was a saint to all who knew her. Gone more than 15 years or so now, we all hear her words still. Her wisdom resonates in our lives. We sit up straight when we remember to b/c now we have to remember it all by ourselves without being told. She is a treasure to have and to hold in our hearts for ever, my grandmother.

PPM

Moody Weather Nature

Moody Weather

DECEMBER 1, 2011

It is hot one day and cold the next. Why should this come as a surprise?

It does not. It has been this way the entire 44 years of my life. The South is not alone in this moody weather business. Still, everyone moans and groans about it anyway. What is this, our propensity to talk about the weather I wonder? It is our ‘go to’ topic I suppose? It is always there, ready and open for comment without back-talk.

Come to think, weather reminds me of a few people I know. They can be hot one day and a hard freeze the next. Storming one day then calm the next.

Nature, human or otherwise, it does what it wants to do no matter my opinion, and I am happy to admit lack of control, even more thrilled I have none. Perhaps all I can do is layer my jackets and cherish what I can control (not much if anything).

--PPM

May Your Days be Merry and Bright

May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

11 December 2011

Well, last night was bright enough certainly with that full red moon engaging the sky and our eyes. It was gorgeous indeed. Life is beautiful. So how could it be that everyone I know seems to be in a dither lately? It has been several weeks now, this dither of a mood which none of us seems to understand or have reason to explain it. It is bothersome. This is The Season set aside specifically to be merry and bright, and tho lo and behold and surely He says unto thee: we should be merry and bright and thankful year-round, still, sometimes, here on earth Life seems like the subway, where we need a token, some reminder that there is a cost as our travel in this Life speeds under the currents of so many footsteps.

Could it be this is to remind us the extraordinary price we pay to be alive, for Life?

Life is a gift, sure, but it does not come without cost.

My Aunt Margaret died November 8^th this year, 2011. This will be our first Christmas without her, as well as her husband, my dear Uncle Jack, who passed merely months prior. No, life is not free. Life takes time, and equally it will snatch time away from us just as quickly as it gives. Aunt Margaret was a mere 62-years-old, and Uncle Jack just a bit her elder. We all knew after they spent such a ‘long’ life together in the same home, the same bed, the same world, that it would not be long before they meet each other again in the great beyond, wherever that is. I knew. Yet I could not accept it, that she would pass. Still each day I see them together in my mind, alive, not just alive but skiing the Alps as they used to do. It is weird really. But who’s to say?

Take heed I plead unto myself, but I do not seem to be listening.

Without doubt, something in the air this time of year does make the season sparkle. Joy is sprinkled in every corner and curve, in every chilly breath we take, as if to amplify that special blessing of time, which only some of us are granted the privilege. Perhaps that is the case in your family too? Someone has passed, and you cannot forget their presence no matter what you do?

On the bright side, my favorite part of this season is to remind us of that child-like feeling of joy and eagerness, mirth and anticipation. That is the greatest gift of all.

My least favorite thing? That would have to be how life can be so short without warning. Even though in this case I had years knowing of the warning such a cancer sends; now, the warning is mute upon them meeting their end, on this earth, whereby I could touch them.

We know we must savor every day, and perhaps this is what creates our middle-aged indulgent sadness? By this time in life we have suffered Life’s incongruence. We have lost people we love, more than one, and it hurts. Period. Yes, it hurts. And yet as always as Pollyanna © would say, there is a bright side! J

The holiday season spells something magical, there is no doubt. Carpe Diem is to be carried to the extreme, now more than ever despite the strangely empty seats at our holiday table.

So what of the hustle and bustle of buying and spending? Save the economy? What does that have to do with the birth of Christ? So what of the anxious thoughts such as: Did I get my gifts mailed off to the correct addresses, and the etcetera of expectations of being the perfect Christmas person and guest? Do I want people to know I am the perfect Christmas person? Or, do I just want to be a good person year-round, loving my friends and family as I do?

I vow to let the season sing and bring its joy. Yet admittedly I am among those who have felt in a dither lately. Why? Beats me. Yet the fact remains We Must Overcome, and I vow to sing joy from the rooftops if I must, to let the season ring no matter the dithers this Life can and will bring.

It is unacceptable to me that I feel loss this year, despite the loss of my loved ones. It is not my first time, and I aim to discover some reason for this malady of mood-flavor I and my friends discuss.

It is important to note the company I keep, my friends, they are all people who are happy-people-by-nature, or else I could not participate in their relationships. I am weak that way:

Pessimism gives me the strength to run a 3-minute mile in the opposite direction of negativity.

So this makes it even more curious, why do some of us deem to feel so strangely ‘lost’ presently, in this joyous season? Why for example do I wake and feel my family, many of them gone to the great beyond … but yet they seem SO alive and with me still? Should that not be blessing enough? I feel it should. It could if I allow it. And so here and now I vow to allow it. Let the season ring!

Could it be that the heavenly stars do play so heavily upon our thoughts, just as it was in the time of The King of Joy, who suffered so, with whom He and we are all so surrounded, by stars and joy and suffering and most importantly, by overcoming it all?

Oye, lo, so so, so … so little I know. It is written in all the Christmas legends I know though…of how the stars told of this or that good tiding. All good tidings. This much I know and I cling to it. Cling.

So I am riddled with desire to feel the simple joy of the season this year. Child-like. It should be as simple as that, right? Child-like is gracious and heavenly.

So, it seems my only means to accomplish this is to temper my thoughts. Perhaps all we must change is our thoughts, especially if we tend toward a lowly feeling upon the Christmas season as odd as it is that so many people do feel lowly when ‘Tis the Season? Maybe our approach to the gala of the birth of The Savior is the only focus our families need? Perhaps to gratefulness only should we give heed, and to help others with less than we ourselves need?

So simple it seems, and yet my people and myself seem in a quandary of cold, dreary down-trodden-ness this Yuletide season. Among my family and friends I plead that we shall not let the darkness reign, indeed! Light prevails. Of this I am certain.

Because I know I know I know, we all feel the joy whether we can bear it, of Love, Family, Friendship and Kindness, of Giving and Receiving, of knowing we are here for a reason, to spread it, and to sprinkle joy as freely as a child will pour sugar on a cookie.

So let us go forth now in faith, and with Love, and enjoy the season. Please help me, best beloved, with your good spirit and faithful reasons. May your days be merry and bright each season, no matter the circumstance of our earthly plight; ‘tis the season.

Your days will be merry and bright each day you choose them to be thus with delight. This is my wish for you all. I say so only because I must. This is my flight. Into reason, for the season, and every day.

--PPM