tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43577038990830073672024-02-07T08:22:47.901-05:00 Wendy's Bees...a journal of my days and my thoughtsWendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-2826568841636521322017-03-30T11:55:00.003-04:002017-03-30T11:58:04.917-04:00Training: Rest and Rehydrate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVaPk-salhZY808AiwE_LwbDZ5adKgb516OEaQQhdSdFFKWXUGUybjZ8ZtyWKsHckdLLrIo5nbJ_eCsLYTCMq1IAw7x5Lt3v45O8Ww7uZ0KKw2fP0JOyQh8cZE0HdboX0V9OjFY67uPZn/s1600/002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVaPk-salhZY808AiwE_LwbDZ5adKgb516OEaQQhdSdFFKWXUGUybjZ8ZtyWKsHckdLLrIo5nbJ_eCsLYTCMq1IAw7x5Lt3v45O8Ww7uZ0KKw2fP0JOyQh8cZE0HdboX0V9OjFY67uPZn/s400/002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
A shopping tour of Dock Square in Kennebunkport. These benches are a great place to enjoy an ice cream cone in summer.<br />
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Catching my breath at the halfway point on my training ride Sunday. 10.5 miles. 34 degrees. It didn't kill me, but I will need a different bike saddle. WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-45347669599192725332017-03-23T20:38:00.000-04:002017-03-23T20:38:43.086-04:00Plans for Moving Forward, Part Two: MBTI and 20/20<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1KNw57msYzD9kBLwPoZ_5lDaz6AfFe-IS9-iYfYNYFaTukDEH6i1JrDQe3UbqF1Mj23BBPk_9H65Ue8QjF1ZlZp5f4Axxw6-Rq67zPNsmS1ml-8-LoTF5bBDK61LuhZKv2F0mzO9wFhv/s1600/20170318_130330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1KNw57msYzD9kBLwPoZ_5lDaz6AfFe-IS9-iYfYNYFaTukDEH6i1JrDQe3UbqF1Mj23BBPk_9H65Ue8QjF1ZlZp5f4Axxw6-Rq67zPNsmS1ml-8-LoTF5bBDK61LuhZKv2F0mzO9wFhv/s320/20170318_130330.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
According to the MBTI (Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator), I am an ENFJ. An extrovert, energized by being around and interacting with other people. It is important to remember that one is not <i>completely</i> one or the other, introvert or extrovert on the MBTI, just one <i>more than</i> the other. I consider myself a pragmatic extrovert. What is that you may ask? Well, I am energized by interacting with people I feel comfortable around, and I have cultivated the ability to "fake it til I make it" when I'm around people who threaten or intimidate me. Some people and many social situations really drain me, drain my energy.<br />
I can be very shy, and I am selective about how much I reveal about myself. I definitely cultivate a public persona.<br />
When I started this blog, I wanted a place to express myself, and to share and exchange with like-minded people. I worried about whether I was getting myself into something that I would regret. Would viewers challenge me on what I express? Would anyone target me with malice? Would I be opening myself up too much just to gain common understanding of a few?<br />
I can also be very shy about having my picture taken. And by "shy" here, I mean vain. I can honestly say that I believe myself to be prettier than I am. You know those comparison pictures used to illustrate the discrepancy between reality and perception for a person who suffers body dysmorphia? I have that in the opposite way. My self-image is way more flattering than the lies that cameras and mirrors reveal to me. It may be shallow, but I want to be beautiful. So I use cameras and mirrors sparingly. That is why there are at this time only 2 images I have posted of myself on the internet. (I can't help any that others have posted on FB on TBT from our high school yearbook.) <br />
I took a face selfie for my FB page. It was so hard to do. I did my hair and makeup, chose my lighting, took lots of different selfies. I wonder if I would have photoshopped my dark circles and wrinkles if I knew how. I chose one, cropped it, and posted it on my profile. I cringe when I see it. That was about 2 years ago. The second photo is the one heading up my last post. My husband took it. I made him take a few shots at different angles. I am wearing no makeup, but I'm quite obscured by bike helmet, sunglasses and even earmuffs. But even still, I cringe. There is no camouflaging my overweight body and chubby cheeks. <br />
Why am I putting myself through this? Because I think it is part of a journey to improving my physical and mental health. It is said that to be effective in setting and reaching goals, it is important to define where you are and where you want to go. So, that photo is a starting line of sorts, and the starting line of the PMC will be a finishing line of sorts. I am going to try to document my journey here.<br />
On Monday, I started Dr Phil's 20/20 diet and took a bike ride, did some resistance work at YMCA. Tuesday, I took a Deep Water Fitness class at the Y. The weather took a turn to colder and windier, so no bike ride; yesterday I exerted myself shampooing carpets. I have already lost a couple of pounds, am generally more active around the house. My muscles are complaining a little (okay, a lot), so I'm drinking lots more water, and doing stretches and even taking a little acetaminophen as needed.<br />
I will try to blog other things too, so as not to bore you too much with this journey Balance is good!<br />
Hey, for fun, if you have stopped in today and ever taken the MBTI, will you comment with what personality type you are?<br />
<br />WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-3760187381488891082017-03-19T13:23:00.000-04:002017-03-19T13:23:46.481-04:00Plans for Moving Forward: Part 1 "I Must Be Mad"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulm-DkLfxvfjCVUA79GpqirsCQ8zY65LsCc_S6Gxk6VpXh2OjHTo9Yzmsmh9Y3X9TL1NNO-IUmad6M7z3zJ3JAh1DGutdQ9LbBxZKHi4i_JxoDu7L1j-ac9V3Wj6f-J07RiXVN0-he37i/s640/20170318_130340.jpg" width="444" /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moving forward is such a good idea. I like both parts: “moving” and “forward”. Here, just now, I am focusing
on the cognitive and physical acts of “moving” and “forward”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I agree with what <a href="http://www.essentrics.com/" target="_blank">Miranda Esmonde-White</a> says
about aging and taking care of your body. I catch her on PBS once in a while. She stresses the importance of movement and gently challenging your
flexibility, balance and strength. I find that when I move
my body, my mental health improves, too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mental health has been impacted by grieving, in addition
to the annual winter blues (SAD), and an awareness of the toll age has taken on
my mental agility. I am increasingly
aware of certain maladaptive patterns I have in response to things that hurt or
frustrate me. I mean sulking and a tendency toward self-pity. And then there’s
denial. I now find that, when faced with
life’s worst insults (the loss of loved ones), these flimsy coping
strategies don’t serve me well. I must be thoughtful, intentional, or
better put, strategic, about “moving forward” with my mental health in order to salvage
my functionality!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My physical health has taken a hit, mainly in the area of
overall fitness. Whatever healthy habits
I developed were disrupted by last-minute trains to <st1:city w:st="on">Boston</st1:city> when David was in one crisis or
another. Eating in hospital cafeterias,
sleeping in family waiting areas, long periods of just sitting, pacing,
worrying. Hours spent ruminating on “what
if” scenarios, making Plans A, B, and C, and then starting all over again as circumstances
changed. Oh my….suddenly a simple act
like going for a walk borders on impossible, and unfortunately,
unimportant. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing I have found in my grieving process is that I am
very angry, principally with cancer.
Cancer has taken my father, my brother, my stepfather. My great-grandmother lost both her baby and
her life to ovarian cancer when she was in her 30’s, leaving behind a husband
with 5 children, 3 of whom survived colon cancer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has finally dawned on me that grieving and healing will
involve dealing with my anger. So I'm channeling my anger to do what I can to defeat
cancer. My brother David was blessed
immensely by his care at Dana Farber Cancer Institute in <st1:city w:st="on">Boston</st1:city>.
They have a huge fundraiser to support cancer research, the largest of
its kind. Every year, they hold a
bicycle ride across <st1:state w:st="on">Massachusetts:</st1:state> the <a href="http://www.pmc.org/" target="_blank">PanMass Challenge</a>. Riders can
participate in distances that suit them, from “virtual” riding (which is
fundraising without actually riding a bicycle, all the way to pedaling the
whole distance from Sturbridge to <st1:city w:st="on">Provincetown</st1:city>
in 2 days (192 miles). I’m pretty angry,
so, throwing caution to the wind, I have registered for the full distance. (Crazy?
Yup. Mad in both senses: angry
and crazy.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The PanMass Challenge is first and foremost a
fundraiser. The money needed to keep
cancer research funded is staggering. David
participated in a clinical trial for the medicine nivolumab, and later, for
pembrolizimab. The associated cost was
overwhelming, but he didn’t have to pay because he was essentially donating his
body as part of the experiment. I can’t
even imagine what the additional costs were in hospital stays, neurosurgeries
(to remove spinal tumors), testing, testing, more testing, rehab facility, etc,
etc, etc.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When a rider registers for the PMC, she commits to raising thousands of dollars to cancer research.
I have a long way to go, both in physical preparation and in campaigning
for funds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are still reading this, I am appealing to you to
consider making a donation for this worthy cause. Surely, your life has been impacted by this
horrid disease. Maybe you can <a href="http://profile.pmc.org/WN0019" target="_blank">donate in memory of someone you love and have lost, or in honor of someone who has waged war and won, or someone in the struggle.</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am riding in memory of David, Dad, and Jim, and 2 people I’ve
never met:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1) Tim Moore, who is the brother my friend Mary
lost to melanoma 5 years ago; and </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2) (in honor of, not in memory of ) President
Jimmy Carter, who received pembrolizimab at the same time as David did, and for
the same reason (4 melanoma brain tumors).
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But my anger and determination, <i>my ride</i> is big enough to
carry <i>your will</i> to beat this enemy too.
By the time I reach <st1:city w:st="on">Provincetown</st1:city>,
my driving force will be Hope. And in
such an epic battle, <b>Hope is everything</b>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
To donate online, follow this link: <a href="http://profile.pmc.org/WN0019" target="_blank">Donate here</a> to my rider page. You can donate anonymously or publicly; your amount can be confidential if you wish. Either way, your donation becomes a
tangible tribute. If you make a donation or not, make a comment in memory of, or in honor of someone you love who has or has had cancer. Many thanks.</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-15492288082189446462017-03-07T13:22:00.000-05:002017-03-07T13:22:05.033-05:00For the Longest Time....<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBXBwRigvdjLezjYxSubKEiMa5bjIor4_t3QPKSQVmPo2Kkw5VEt_DCPY1smA2-Fq0RlXcl33qpyxSS-v-j1vFaH8LmlQMYoMxJSUlnVrWMYy9nTAVpUkyxij2c1aSMxWXgg8AVqWi414/s1600/DSCN4293+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBXBwRigvdjLezjYxSubKEiMa5bjIor4_t3QPKSQVmPo2Kkw5VEt_DCPY1smA2-Fq0RlXcl33qpyxSS-v-j1vFaH8LmlQMYoMxJSUlnVrWMYy9nTAVpUkyxij2c1aSMxWXgg8AVqWi414/s640/DSCN4293+-+Copy.JPG" width="475" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother David and his daughter Emma , summer 2013<br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">For the longest time, I didn’t know if I would ever want to
come back to writing this blog. I had
felt some inspiration the last time I posted, but then….</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Life has happened and happened and happened…..</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I can’t write a lot about it, because it is too painful, but
my beloved brother David died from melanoma last June at 55 years old. Horrible, devastating disease. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">David was a Golden Boy in our family. Do you know what I mean? Some families have them, and I was
lucky. I had him my whole life until June. I had him my whole life longer than anyone
else. I have tried to tell myself that
my loss wasn’t that…..important because it is worse for my mother. Or it is worse for his wife and worse for his
daughter. And then I realize how
ridiculous that line of thinking is, and scold myself for being petty. And then I admit that I am trying to minimize
my loss because to feel it all at once is too big and too painful.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I have spent so many weeks and so many weekends at my
mother’s house, both before and after David died. Mum & her husband and David & his
family lived in the same tiny little town near the Maine-Canadian border. David was very attentive to my mother,
stopping in to make sure all was well.
Taking care of anything Jim couldn’t do.
Bringing sunshine and love and laughter.
There was plenty to do to help Mum & Jim and my sister-in-law get
ready for the coming winter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Then life continued……</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Jim had for several years a condition called BMD (Bone
Marrow Dysplasia), which often eventually degrades into a form of chronic
leukemia. He converted from BMD to
leukemia a little over 2 years ago, had a round of chemotherapy, achieved
remission, and had done reasonably well since then. He was gradually getting older and more
frail, but so gradually as to almost be imperceptible. Then in late September, he became acutely
ill, met criteria for additional chemotherapy, put it off and then died. It was very sudden. He was admitted to the hospital just not
feeling well on a Saturday. He got
rehydrated and transfused and was resting comfortably by that evening, but in
the wee hours of Sunday, he deteriorated rapidly and died. It was four months to the day since David
died. We couldn’t believe it. And in the months since then, it has been a
journey of grieving, coping, and trying to orient toward healing and finding
purpose.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">That’s enough for today.
I have plans as to how I am moving forward. More next time.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-57806018798062098492015-09-19T17:44:00.000-04:002015-09-19T17:50:25.611-04:00Summer's End<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwrWTEAH3qjXzZiIhjIVxXFCmJJbPKXoHlS7RyJCDdDWut-jnxIBycBrH6mDgRjWWZuj5_YnfR-lXoLpu0QJ0RSwQx9TPWIkclsP9yWJThd9FiGY51kKbQTb05K1gJrY3NIwuLtYLnFafr/s1600/IMG_1761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwrWTEAH3qjXzZiIhjIVxXFCmJJbPKXoHlS7RyJCDdDWut-jnxIBycBrH6mDgRjWWZuj5_YnfR-lXoLpu0QJ0RSwQx9TPWIkclsP9yWJThd9FiGY51kKbQTb05K1gJrY3NIwuLtYLnFafr/s400/IMG_1761.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sunset over the Saco River</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;"><i>"What good is the warmth of summer, </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;"><i> without the cold of winter to give it sweetness."</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><i> ------John Steinbeck</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><i>----------------------------------------------------------------------</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So I consulted the calendar, and it told me that the last of day of summer this year is September 23.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This year, more than ever, I feel very rushed by the cadence of time passing me by. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't tolerate heat well, and for years, by the time August rolls around, I am checking weather forecasts hoping to see cooler temperatures in the offing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMK-n4cecwGGUZH4Kxzl4_xx2D70RYymRr4YbmWjPBwRw_gRM-WlnSCR1mtXmW5NoBL5YbKW-ZtAnPIaI81kLhyphenhyphen1V11qNykMHuDJUyxdup220RGmP2Qr4oYgSG_RBWOb_JHtI4NCNoca6v/s1600/IMG_1300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMK-n4cecwGGUZH4Kxzl4_xx2D70RYymRr4YbmWjPBwRw_gRM-WlnSCR1mtXmW5NoBL5YbKW-ZtAnPIaI81kLhyphenhyphen1V11qNykMHuDJUyxdup220RGmP2Qr4oYgSG_RBWOb_JHtI4NCNoca6v/s400/IMG_1300.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not sure why, but not so this year. I am more at peace with Summer. I have embraced <strike>sweating</strike> perspiring, and learned to love a cool and refreshing afternoon bath. And then there's the sprinkler to keep growing things going; make sure to wear flip flops, cool water on the feet always helps.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUydM14N_ggmlw15pAHmXcZ6yaU4MDgHWpdWkKpJPiAWdlIiNFqqniCGGU9p6GXGf5SAw9lEE77UjMw1R-POD8uwC26YHycIm-0Zzo9YF2UwunQWUsnRY3FpE5KwWSJ8Ox9SfKEfxGzH9/s1600/IMG_1762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUydM14N_ggmlw15pAHmXcZ6yaU4MDgHWpdWkKpJPiAWdlIiNFqqniCGGU9p6GXGf5SAw9lEE77UjMw1R-POD8uwC26YHycIm-0Zzo9YF2UwunQWUsnRY3FpE5KwWSJ8Ox9SfKEfxGzH9/s400/IMG_1762.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Oh my gosh, I just love these two sooooo much! (Evan and Christina)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It probably has more to do with my Empty Nest. The youngest has gone off to college, as have the older two, who were home for the summer.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-M6Mt_TtlXSSDgghigomwghO_gI2mNfl6rh3_wUT1q0dt1mioW3a7i0mjnFbJi0xZ8cRP5ts7IUWDTi7VJDU6Kxdog1ii2LUzo1MaS21GIgBeZtG9jCbVrWKgpZwosGJKVjE0dQ2tWWf/s1600/IMG_1764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-M6Mt_TtlXSSDgghigomwghO_gI2mNfl6rh3_wUT1q0dt1mioW3a7i0mjnFbJi0xZ8cRP5ts7IUWDTi7VJDU6Kxdog1ii2LUzo1MaS21GIgBeZtG9jCbVrWKgpZwosGJKVjE0dQ2tWWf/s400/IMG_1764.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Caution: Wake</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I'm going to eeeaase myself along through this transition. First, I'll recap the summer, and get some of its stories off my chest. And then, I'll strike out for the adventures the future holds. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Coming with me?</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-7748774481607665802015-09-17T13:03:00.000-04:002015-09-17T15:54:34.711-04:00Slideshow, Part 6 CMBG<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf4YJBeuPg3LzydUP0W6qaISqYcEuV_FKgTVMdlc5gX_MkConIbI6gH7en8V-nxN5IlnODnrbn9mUPRtZ0R4V2wL6a7hW_LUiumNuDtVaM49EBtmh__WtHFDQaBEXiPR1XY0Z933-w-S-/s1600/IMG_1829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBf4YJBeuPg3LzydUP0W6qaISqYcEuV_FKgTVMdlc5gX_MkConIbI6gH7en8V-nxN5IlnODnrbn9mUPRtZ0R4V2wL6a7hW_LUiumNuDtVaM49EBtmh__WtHFDQaBEXiPR1XY0Z933-w-S-/s400/IMG_1829.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Won't you come sit here with me? I've just poured coffee. Do you take milk or sugar?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsnCYK84cp7d4u_HiokkUL9KXZwwIxMdpZmT63N3F5afu21rsMzFHYS7CIaXeUcQCIlhn6pfYjvopNcsegBj9Gj9QmASiml02x3aAivo-GuPgvIzrAKRxZP8k6xluf4BcSLasrJbjs62F/s1600/IMG_1837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsnCYK84cp7d4u_HiokkUL9KXZwwIxMdpZmT63N3F5afu21rsMzFHYS7CIaXeUcQCIlhn6pfYjvopNcsegBj9Gj9QmASiml02x3aAivo-GuPgvIzrAKRxZP8k6xluf4BcSLasrJbjs62F/s400/IMG_1837.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I've given up looking for inspiration for this post. I'm not quite sure what to write about. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And so, I've decided to let the pictures do the work.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cjLeSaKrzm1Waqp7EqSYKFVi8m5yaS0-ll1k0MTNIxZylEl69jqWqKKS4AdWgezsV2iwkESN5P9-2x74JVgMXgkiNIYZvgSCB8WaFUM9hTeYD4Uvr7NfVLx3EvLoP6wDe3EzEpHZxtms/s1600/IMG_1844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cjLeSaKrzm1Waqp7EqSYKFVi8m5yaS0-ll1k0MTNIxZylEl69jqWqKKS4AdWgezsV2iwkESN5P9-2x74JVgMXgkiNIYZvgSCB8WaFUM9hTeYD4Uvr7NfVLx3EvLoP6wDe3EzEpHZxtms/s400/IMG_1844.JPG" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Weeping Norway Spruce...that's right, weeping, like a willow. A genetic mutation apparently.</i></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmFcPzGkbqjKFoHIHX0g1y90vCDzLTElZlWeQR0wu5jaauRc124LpJn3OjpkSp0zr9gaUWFKoD1tG4G3PQ1auLXhpvtt7m54QKWKuep-WzSmGx-xbc3eEpQXIWm8YRBS9udraD-xxHg1Y/s1600/IMG_1842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmFcPzGkbqjKFoHIHX0g1y90vCDzLTElZlWeQR0wu5jaauRc124LpJn3OjpkSp0zr9gaUWFKoD1tG4G3PQ1auLXhpvtt7m54QKWKuep-WzSmGx-xbc3eEpQXIWm8YRBS9udraD-xxHg1Y/s400/IMG_1842.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking back up the hill, as we stroll down to the lake. You can see the rose arbor.</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55EhgXjHmlZt-L1e6Ir1fDJNdJvpUsBfijtMsxMduRubJiLMwuocoeV33dET-4AHPx8gbNBCY2XanTIErqtXEvYN7RSjhbPCAD2Qc4ZY59HwFvTbNocTd86UkDJ7MmRUSz8Gms9r_adFC/s1600/IMG_1845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55EhgXjHmlZt-L1e6Ir1fDJNdJvpUsBfijtMsxMduRubJiLMwuocoeV33dET-4AHPx8gbNBCY2XanTIErqtXEvYN7RSjhbPCAD2Qc4ZY59HwFvTbNocTd86UkDJ7MmRUSz8Gms9r_adFC/s400/IMG_1845.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I can't remember what these are, I've seen them before. I adore the lacy foliage.</i></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2ZFV_DxYRxDjasesXqKYTXQuiPEhdnapOEWydg1LzzM5oJOZ4adh7gbhIeJXgauy_u9A1qG2vJjLsfIhu-iRnbY6fNsd_ManXif8D2zXkhVUIiBIDROeqLeAKeak73PS0hF8ElrWeei4/s1600/IMG_1843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2ZFV_DxYRxDjasesXqKYTXQuiPEhdnapOEWydg1LzzM5oJOZ4adh7gbhIeJXgauy_u9A1qG2vJjLsfIhu-iRnbY6fNsd_ManXif8D2zXkhVUIiBIDROeqLeAKeak73PS0hF8ElrWeei4/s400/IMG_1843.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The trail curves back and forth in tight hairpin loops down the steep hillside.</i></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQmI-kbk6lY42GLtFFdvqxktPkGFYIr7f3nZanIqgg-Q1HsuLnpy8bS4NLUXNiUZKGfBVV2wNzGnQcn8CyRdZh4dDRh-h2_ChfL_rhN5XXMmtVl3GzVAA0SHkqxnfJPf6OGLHDuMLmIL3R/s1600/IMG_1849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQmI-kbk6lY42GLtFFdvqxktPkGFYIr7f3nZanIqgg-Q1HsuLnpy8bS4NLUXNiUZKGfBVV2wNzGnQcn8CyRdZh4dDRh-h2_ChfL_rhN5XXMmtVl3GzVAA0SHkqxnfJPf6OGLHDuMLmIL3R/s640/IMG_1849.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This picture came out poorly, too much in shade. I had to take it though, because it reminded me of <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/michelle_middleton_photography/309562239" target="_blank">this</a>.<br />Half Dome, in miniature.</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfooRhlaGVXRPaBCRkfcal_P8YkH1GnQRAPdFK9tzFKQViarmV_VPyp2W67E3PUzWzsvi_rPuLKaNmXUmz3AVHu2H9qXEBplhNk2ZUSCZw2UCx1UdBKNoq5dQX5RWjlJtjUYXjDBX2Fzj/s1600/ansel-adams-half-dome-and-moon-yosemite-valley-ca-circa-1950-painting-artwork-print.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfooRhlaGVXRPaBCRkfcal_P8YkH1GnQRAPdFK9tzFKQViarmV_VPyp2W67E3PUzWzsvi_rPuLKaNmXUmz3AVHu2H9qXEBplhNk2ZUSCZw2UCx1UdBKNoq5dQX5RWjlJtjUYXjDBX2Fzj/s400/ansel-adams-half-dome-and-moon-yosemite-valley-ca-circa-1950-painting-artwork-print.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ansel Adams</i></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JE4E2rcGFXajAMmPpSJPbC0MhnDUReiiCwjbXthW-Sck5CF50svDp7H4uFj0XHWFCJg11P-QdSRaWtGanCKcAGUrGN_qZ0tomPWqPtNeKaDgtfdzCD5aELGu_zCa8vSP8oHq4-6WFKqr/s1600/IMG_1850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JE4E2rcGFXajAMmPpSJPbC0MhnDUReiiCwjbXthW-Sck5CF50svDp7H4uFj0XHWFCJg11P-QdSRaWtGanCKcAGUrGN_qZ0tomPWqPtNeKaDgtfdzCD5aELGu_zCa8vSP8oHq4-6WFKqr/s400/IMG_1850.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rest here, in the shade, with this not-so-shy fern.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJ6H4TrhYu56EGnqQfcBtJRcQz9XLCJvUPutyZNA5Rp1LKIQv38m5VYoEIpzz3I-6j8DRyreHwbbrZBrEit1T_rsDVlIksgl_e1vGIegosXPGXtIHqR4ud40irkFuDKgmUG0RjA7BNKw6/s1600/IMG_1851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJ6H4TrhYu56EGnqQfcBtJRcQz9XLCJvUPutyZNA5Rp1LKIQv38m5VYoEIpzz3I-6j8DRyreHwbbrZBrEit1T_rsDVlIksgl_e1vGIegosXPGXtIHqR4ud40irkFuDKgmUG0RjA7BNKw6/s640/IMG_1851.JPG" width="425" /></i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking down a dry stream bed, left behind from the spring snowmelt runoff.</i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNvIR8zH9DBLPAMD0-la_outZlzs1-j7GV6kAmIihaC7aRcrdHA3pksgYnqjNoCJ3phSCFnjQylzzoSM6RrLGgwvAsuMvrLjpxZFo9-rojeMMrnw3PpwVhsi2XKUAvw82V4onMZFn2Ecg/s1600/IMG_1808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNvIR8zH9DBLPAMD0-la_outZlzs1-j7GV6kAmIihaC7aRcrdHA3pksgYnqjNoCJ3phSCFnjQylzzoSM6RrLGgwvAsuMvrLjpxZFo9-rojeMMrnw3PpwVhsi2XKUAvw82V4onMZFn2Ecg/s400/IMG_1808.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That's all I've got for today.</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-82516573514693230142015-09-15T11:38:00.000-04:002015-09-17T15:55:21.703-04:00Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary...or CMBG, Part 5<div style="text-align: center;">
I should have been named "Mary", but as far as I know, that was never on the list of possibilities.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I remember, when young, loving so many different kinds of flowers, and being even a little indignant of the exalted position of the rose. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had the same reaction to diamonds, and gold jewelry, satin and lace and eventually champagne..... Perhaps I was a champion of the underdog? It just bothered me to have the beauty of non-roses be overlooked, even slighted. I made it up to violets and daisies by cherishing them all the more, while secretly wishing they had fragrance like the lush lilacs outside my parents' bedroom window. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDSiy62szhXtTZ7DUEEq01bQAcGvtJuUdCzp2VKcHugx0kIPSqT-wtOyKkMruny4ptr9OUByZv_MB0lDQ0LYhZu6U-HbWs4MB518DjzexnBTTlWmdNSpXyxaEvPx5vkYtoaQUuyFn5F0P/s1600/IMG_1805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuDSiy62szhXtTZ7DUEEq01bQAcGvtJuUdCzp2VKcHugx0kIPSqT-wtOyKkMruny4ptr9OUByZv_MB0lDQ0LYhZu6U-HbWs4MB518DjzexnBTTlWmdNSpXyxaEvPx5vkYtoaQUuyFn5F0P/s400/IMG_1805.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>While Lady's Mantle can stand on its own, it makes a gorgeous backdrop for ....</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtSsmaY-LDe5j2_brSEzOjzoQUxSGIxcyuqK6qcFIu5-02zHTKj8xBVMDFcNrWccwI1b4U1aoE99ljcPAsaidVvela7wAhotJA4ZgVD-fF4s8w95bSRvfpgZ4c20APvcgm3P1TwlVP-Ka/s1600/IMG_1816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtSsmaY-LDe5j2_brSEzOjzoQUxSGIxcyuqK6qcFIu5-02zHTKj8xBVMDFcNrWccwI1b4U1aoE99ljcPAsaidVvela7wAhotJA4ZgVD-fF4s8w95bSRvfpgZ4c20APvcgm3P1TwlVP-Ka/s640/IMG_1816.JPG" width="398" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>...Pink Roses!</i></td></tr>
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Eventually, my mother began to improve the row of arbor vitae and yew shrubs across the front of our ranch house by ordering roses from <a href="http://www.jacksonandperkins.com/" target="_blank">Jackson & Perkins</a>. First, the catalogs would come to the house in late January, along with <a href="http://www.burpee.com/" target="_blank">Burpee's</a>, <a href="http://www.gurneys.com/" target="_blank">Gurney's</a> and <a href="http://www.parksbrothers.com/" target="_blank">Park Brothers</a>. J&P knew how to win me. Their catalog came in a sealed envelope, which when opened released the glorious fragrance of their latest rose. Over the years, Mum planted some lovely roses*: <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Peace</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFlWBLOZQfdeL7-mPEXEqmPBlapCZv3l_xB7TkYj5ICMxGCQyDI13NuxFApMCyWFfbfZ3QQRXwRJFN239HZJe8Gq04qRPCixfv9dyQg7DwYWKIiv20OQXW5JAUiMFqFwr5DS3iwa9GUcJ/s1600/Peace+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFlWBLOZQfdeL7-mPEXEqmPBlapCZv3l_xB7TkYj5ICMxGCQyDI13NuxFApMCyWFfbfZ3QQRXwRJFN239HZJe8Gq04qRPCixfv9dyQg7DwYWKIiv20OQXW5JAUiMFqFwr5DS3iwa9GUcJ/s400/Peace+Rose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Sterling Silver</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqJcTByfEQDJvotM9yAoTU690BhIzFXxFBRf735k4w5JN-RdAtrV7RdXaO5ujm2cCTEJKN2_1SO-tFGfn8em-kciGjpNDB3yo6AI-jqBEgbYzNvHRI-9_ylOMkSsu9mwDjPpUtNixJC9C/s1600/Sterling+Silver+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqJcTByfEQDJvotM9yAoTU690BhIzFXxFBRf735k4w5JN-RdAtrV7RdXaO5ujm2cCTEJKN2_1SO-tFGfn8em-kciGjpNDB3yo6AI-jqBEgbYzNvHRI-9_ylOMkSsu9mwDjPpUtNixJC9C/s400/Sterling+Silver+Rose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Fragrant Cloud (!)</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_I9mIh5TgGYe2JLoWoKIlv0iL7Y3LrgRxVOJhTo1-Eh6jI_g9JKnYSK6PF0JdYnPZUbx3GWZNSvjFveIz3Cxm0xLPTvlSvXOaDI9NGONjdodiDljkkRM5-SBBn50RecTyvsgifRi-QDZA/s1600/Fragrant+Cloud+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_I9mIh5TgGYe2JLoWoKIlv0iL7Y3LrgRxVOJhTo1-Eh6jI_g9JKnYSK6PF0JdYnPZUbx3GWZNSvjFveIz3Cxm0xLPTvlSvXOaDI9NGONjdodiDljkkRM5-SBBn50RecTyvsgifRi-QDZA/s400/Fragrant+Cloud+Rose.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b>Irish Gold</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Zky8NKwBHgVfkxRP2zN2Eq_EgPC3JI-tzCW5vvtCBGJBIayIY1VxVVoJjhM0zQMEMENKW8Jb5ELml_Ms4Vhkb1VvDr19m22gPfos57luYqMoR-PzK-lacCL6EuvA5ZLler2fUEz4HtI-/s1600/Irish+Gold+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Zky8NKwBHgVfkxRP2zN2Eq_EgPC3JI-tzCW5vvtCBGJBIayIY1VxVVoJjhM0zQMEMENKW8Jb5ELml_Ms4Vhkb1VvDr19m22gPfos57luYqMoR-PzK-lacCL6EuvA5ZLler2fUEz4HtI-/s400/Irish+Gold+Rose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><b>Abraham Lincoln</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24coZhxBk8Wn7aQx6KKLk7HZ19oRRDhWP9jtgZupG6JK6UXzm8VEdisXQ6Idp5AXwR2V1LVZMwxMZmJxua7iCA8xu0_k5kZUkBjvHxR1Vm5Eomu4HJB02VRX2l0UsHcM8ldXviLcUN4BD/s1600/Abraham+Lincoln+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj24coZhxBk8Wn7aQx6KKLk7HZ19oRRDhWP9jtgZupG6JK6UXzm8VEdisXQ6Idp5AXwR2V1LVZMwxMZmJxua7iCA8xu0_k5kZUkBjvHxR1Vm5Eomu4HJB02VRX2l0UsHcM8ldXviLcUN4BD/s400/Abraham+Lincoln+Rose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Angel Face</b></div>
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are the names I remember easily, but there were more. All so lovely, how could I not love them?</div>
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I was so happy to discover that Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens had a Rose Arbor.</div>
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And no doubt in years to come, there will be climbing roses making use of the wooden structure.</div>
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For now, clematis is doing its best.</div>
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And now, having allowed myself to fall head-over-heals in love with roses, I admit to having found the rose garden a bit sparse and actually diluted by companion plantings, however lovely in their own right. I hope to see, in time, an ever-growing variety of types and colors, and intoxicating perfumes!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">"We can complain because </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a; font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">rose</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;"> bushes have thorns, or </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">rejoice because thorn bushes have </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #6a6a6a; font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">roses</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">."</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; line-height: 14.56px; text-align: left;">-----Abraham Lincoln</span></i></span></div>
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* The images of the roses were borrowed from various sources, as identified in Google searches.WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-82509904450980602682015-09-11T11:59:00.002-04:002015-09-17T15:55:53.608-04:00Images of CMBG, speaking metaphors (Pt 4 of the CMBG series)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today marks an event which shall live forever in our memories. September 11, 2001 scars our collective history indelibly and infamously. </div>
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In all the years I have had this blog, I have never written on or about this day.</div>
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I have never felt equal to the task. </div>
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This year, I have spent a sobering hour or so looking up statistics, in an effort to grasp the enormity of the human losses suffered as a result of the heinous acts of 19 perpetrators. I can only conclude that the actions of those 19 humans are the legacy of Hate. Hate is the motivator and the fuel, and disproportionate lethal violence is its expression. What utter waste. How absolutely futile.<br />
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The existence of hate in our world strikes fear in my heart; it is amorphous, pervasive, and universally accessible to all, emboldening the darkest designs of evil that the human mind can conjure. </div>
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Perhaps because I am the mother of 3 sons, the youngest of whom has this year joined his brothers in registering for the draft, I am ever aware of the solemn and noble work of fine American military personnel to resist the forces of hate and evil propelled in our direction. My sons are college students, and not serving in the military, which, I admit selfishly, gives me some peace in my heart. But I respect and am grateful for those who do serve. I pray for their safety and well-being.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMscYuDe7TtbqEnL7lc1mEie0kTiyfyoFp7yRYVzlZvAgSrIiQB4BG9kbrBduzkG3YjsTGzeIo1WcBQmaqXWKoujJ0qS2v124OWiH7bVvQUV9YAmxJhg4oyTwz_d8e4d53PgXuQOBjSJb/s1600/IMG_1864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMscYuDe7TtbqEnL7lc1mEie0kTiyfyoFp7yRYVzlZvAgSrIiQB4BG9kbrBduzkG3YjsTGzeIo1WcBQmaqXWKoujJ0qS2v124OWiH7bVvQUV9YAmxJhg4oyTwz_d8e4d53PgXuQOBjSJb/s400/IMG_1864.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We live in a beautiful but flawed world. We are a beautiful creation, made in God's own image, but we are fallen from grace, and fall prey to the sin of hatred and violence, both as aggressor and victim. Our salvation is brought upon us by God's mercy and compassion. </div>
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His Love is greater than all the Hate in the world. Today is a day to remember this and gather it into our hearts.</div>
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I hope you find comfort in God's eternal love today as you remember and inevitably re-live the horrors of that terrible day 14 years ago. I know I do.</div>
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WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-84617032029402157962015-09-09T15:32:00.005-04:002015-09-17T15:56:35.386-04:00Things growing can be so satisfying, or BCMG Pt. 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tbyh-3rp5kIiql0AZWydPGm3qJVRMN1AnQ6T1yFw0czyg9z2esbzJz7hrEPgRW-OLKexO3epxtuHF6NM23TKZ5dDWzBsaW6tJ-OL7uUecgh2YHutaLfAyvr-uVBWlMTXW7Mg0qIaPFOI/s1600/IMG_1769+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tbyh-3rp5kIiql0AZWydPGm3qJVRMN1AnQ6T1yFw0czyg9z2esbzJz7hrEPgRW-OLKexO3epxtuHF6NM23TKZ5dDWzBsaW6tJ-OL7uUecgh2YHutaLfAyvr-uVBWlMTXW7Mg0qIaPFOI/s400/IMG_1769+-+Copy.JPG" width="376" /></a></div>
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Summer 1991. I was pregnant with our first son, and for the first time in years I felt the urge to put some seeds in the ground. Jeff and I lived in a tiny apartment in a tidy little complex in Akron, Ohio with our cat Andy. The 2-story buildings were brick, and the interior walls plaster. I think they were built just after WWII. There were 2 tiny bedrooms and an eat-in kitchen, with hardly room for a tiny table and 4 small chairs. But there were windows on 3 sides, and the buildings were fairly well-maintained, and they reminded me a little of the House I lived in on my college campus back in Western Massachusetts.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mock Orange</td></tr>
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So, on weekends, I toiled away in the backyard up next to the building, making a flower bed, probably about 2-1/2 feet deep, and about 12 feet in length. I could hardly spare the time, and really didn't have the money to plant anything really lavish. I guess it was really more of a cutting garden.</div>
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I had no tools, so I bought only hand tools -- a trowel and a little, whaddyacallit, a hand rake of sorts. I got down on my hands and knees (pretty soon I learned to use a piece of corrugated cardboard to kneel on), and dug up the grass, and loosened up the dirt. I think I may have enriched the soil with a little bit of fertilizer? I didn't have a hose, but there was a spigot on the building, so I got a watering can and moistened the soil.</div>
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I bought only seeds, because it was cheaper. I planted zinnias and snapdragons, and I must say they were a great choice. Because both types of flower gave me a variety of colors. The zinnias were the most showy, and the snapdragons delicate and endearing.</div>
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Mum and I thought my need to make things grow had to do with my gestating a brand new little human - the stirrings of a maternal self.</div>
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These days I'm feeling more ambivalent about growth and progression. </div>
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We are empty-nesters, and I feel like the victim of some kind of a dirty trick. We drove out to Cleveland a couple of weeks ago to install the third and final son in college. We couldn't be prouder of our boys, but I miss them so......</div>
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But of even more import, since my last update on my brother David, he has had more problems with his darn melanoma. He has had surgery to remove tumors from his spine, received radiation and more immunotherapy, and a tumor in his brain is being irradiated today. I am cheering for his non-cancerous cells, especially his immune system to grow and progress and destroy the cancerous cells.</div>
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I am hopeful, but still a little worried. I find myself on my knees more, in prayer. Maybe I should visualize myself on some cardboard, planting little seeds of immune cells to flourish fighting the melanoma.</div>
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I'm sure no explanation is needed, but just to be complete, the above photos were all taken at Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. And there are still more to come.</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-83080766809040877972015-07-15T20:49:00.001-04:002015-09-17T15:57:12.537-04:00Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDewa82JSDlW_jj9B917GiBAa0Yb9V9e_4cSCnOz7_ljaLrJB6Jk4Ik5tnRe5jiC0ycUPNQts-I5pNA1sLzMGfV0RHX7t5vUy3yZO3ks4xsO2UQZpay3C6SskJ6yGr_zyCowmZZpQbGwX/s1600/IMG_1771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDewa82JSDlW_jj9B917GiBAa0Yb9V9e_4cSCnOz7_ljaLrJB6Jk4Ik5tnRe5jiC0ycUPNQts-I5pNA1sLzMGfV0RHX7t5vUy3yZO3ks4xsO2UQZpay3C6SskJ6yGr_zyCowmZZpQbGwX/s400/IMG_1771.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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As we strolled the gardens, sometimes I thought to check the labels of the plants and flowers, but not always. I have no idea what this tree is, but I thought the blossoms were so creamy and frothy.</td></tr>
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This reflexology labyrinth was a pretty cool feature in the Lerner Garden of the 5 Senses. We removed our shoes and socks and meditated our way around and around. </div>
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Even if you wish to leave your shoes on, you can trace the route with your finger.</div>
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I wish I had taken a picture of the whole thing, so you could see that the smooth stones gradually decreased in size as you travel further inward, and the massaging effect on the soles of your feet changes.</div>
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As you travel around the first outer circle, you can reach the soft and furry lambs' ears plants, and who can resist them?</div>
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So healthy and gone to flower. And look at that brilliant contrast with the plant behind.</div>
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Next, while your feet are bare you walk between two pools, the one on the right has a weir about 3 feet high, and there is a cascade of cool water flowing over it, and across the walkway into the lower pool. For real refreshment, I stepped right up to the little waterfall, and let the cool water splash on my feet and ankles.</div>
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I have no idea what this is besides pretty.</div>
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Love the color contrasts....</div>
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A close-up of my favorite color contrast.</div>
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More next time. </div>
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<br />WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-40948544907353435202015-07-09T12:40:00.001-04:002015-09-17T15:58:05.892-04:00Sunday Driving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sunday afternoon, Jeff and I drove up the coast to Boothbay. This was not our first visit to the area, we were here a few weeks ago to take Evan to the University's coastal research center, so he could complete his SCUBA certification. But that trip was really just a utilitarian fly-by. This trip, on Sunday, was truly leisure.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4jRuKR919L-AG8HSKxSzxHOBFy-_wU8St9pHIb72_NCBuj-y7pR7KjUDRduqAEticUb1tWToWDtnOVd0VNaQCdCMKQe0mvILnEXNtzL_xY9nN_T6LhJEV6hAw9y_qazWgojo5eWUTEBs/s1600/IMG_1776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4jRuKR919L-AG8HSKxSzxHOBFy-_wU8St9pHIb72_NCBuj-y7pR7KjUDRduqAEticUb1tWToWDtnOVd0VNaQCdCMKQe0mvILnEXNtzL_xY9nN_T6LhJEV6hAw9y_qazWgojo5eWUTEBs/s400/IMG_1776.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water feature in the Lerner Garden of the 5 senses</td></tr>
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Our destination was the <a href="http://www.mainegardens.org/" target="_blank">Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens</a>. I had heard of it, but never been. And believe me, I want to go back, again and again! If you visit Maine, consider a day here. It is that magical. The largest Botanical Garden in New England at 270 acres, it has only been developed in the last couple of decades, and a great deal of thought, talent, and resources have been brought to bear among its many themed gardens and winding woodland trails. We were there for almost 3 hours, and probably saw a little more than half at a somewhat leisurely pace. Our pace was determined by photographic opportunities. We didn't do as much sitting and drinking it all in as I felt invited to do by its many seating alcoves, mainly granite benches, with lovely vistas. There were water features, lovely steel dynamic (kinetic?) sculptures, impressive stonework, and even a large glass orb, all of which were displayed in harmony with the surroundings. Native plant species are effectively showcased, and beds of plants and flowers arranged so as to delight the eye with their contrasting colors and textures. Upon reviewing my photos, I find that I took 150 pictures! I was going to edit some out, but they are all wonderful! I had borrowed my son's better camera and that was a good idea. I've had another pass through them to select which ones to share here. I'm down to 49. So, I'll spread them out over more than one post. </div>
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Here's today's gallery; let's start with a bang:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAUXK2T7NgBsm3m1wKpGAawRK7L79P9l45pt6CTKVepArhChLH1qq3MTn6bZHjFDlqsNB6q7pErjckkgWYG0joNJetgF8qBVSEztLeH8u9emlcewK1rT0011RXEUxkjHfeK4eFF7mS0_n/s1600/IMG_1929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAUXK2T7NgBsm3m1wKpGAawRK7L79P9l45pt6CTKVepArhChLH1qq3MTn6bZHjFDlqsNB6q7pErjckkgWYG0joNJetgF8qBVSEztLeH8u9emlcewK1rT0011RXEUxkjHfeK4eFF7mS0_n/s400/IMG_1929.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PoW! How's that for CoLoR?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px; text-align: center;">And this was just on the walkway from our parking lot to the visitor center. I happily noted that the parking "lots" are very small and verdant, no blacktop, just packed dirt and gravel, with lots of fallen pine needles making it look very woodsy indeed. It feels a little like you have arrived at a campground, or the head of a hiking trail. And of course you are surrounded by trees, so you can't see over to the gardens, which enhances the feeling of anticipation and breathless discovery.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjY1umlQOSUhSIvh3hz6BiOXphGWpuMfoSI4DhKXqSbxSEpRRM-eOvV-M7k4uEkQZQhxTVyADLVn6OK5vRu2yBo7fOTfXxo0DGj0EFXdpGaeUJ9INyPeaGZ4_c3Q4luAsawYOaUazu2FN/s1600/IMG_1768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjY1umlQOSUhSIvh3hz6BiOXphGWpuMfoSI4DhKXqSbxSEpRRM-eOvV-M7k4uEkQZQhxTVyADLVn6OK5vRu2yBo7fOTfXxo0DGj0EFXdpGaeUJ9INyPeaGZ4_c3Q4luAsawYOaUazu2FN/s400/IMG_1768.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salvia with bee<br />
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I had never seen a yellow peony. Most of the peonies had just gone by, but this was quite a beauty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdc5PFe4XFAkW5QnhQPlAE1-_jd_dFtvahCY98aEk8_haEVkeo7uzc4sVPWq9uVnYbU5opj-bxfUoc5m1n4yH7VUJYW_agybyjS7Ql4yjujmKeRLbaCvLqkcbeX7QO0wpfUCkNTCGlK6M/s1600/IMG_1774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdc5PFe4XFAkW5QnhQPlAE1-_jd_dFtvahCY98aEk8_haEVkeo7uzc4sVPWq9uVnYbU5opj-bxfUoc5m1n4yH7VUJYW_agybyjS7Ql4yjujmKeRLbaCvLqkcbeX7QO0wpfUCkNTCGlK6M/s640/IMG_1774.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why don't I have peonies in my garden?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCR6uPWLaalqDWOrpPwyeq2mJk5oBCigpcURDPvbPg1kKk_3cIDT023hjTmBV3GeZh0PzGfjhNDlNmdv7WQQN4woZh9ZLnP0BjwlM5m-4rr7_v4gMLzbwM3e5NGGxq09L6Jy6_4L95j76H/s1600/IMG_1778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCR6uPWLaalqDWOrpPwyeq2mJk5oBCigpcURDPvbPg1kKk_3cIDT023hjTmBV3GeZh0PzGfjhNDlNmdv7WQQN4woZh9ZLnP0BjwlM5m-4rr7_v4gMLzbwM3e5NGGxq09L6Jy6_4L95j76H/s400/IMG_1778.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who wouldn't want to go for a Sunday stroll with this tall, dark and handsome guy?</td></tr>
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In the Lerner Garden of the 5 Senses, you are invited to see, hear, taste, smell and touch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWyzR7pUoNMzK8JaMFDlpEfdWUuuxX27cUodqHNfidpCsrV09QxILbnh4rlVvyE3gmCvSrQWPw7Elvw_AEOeDZz3ULdDPPrYXQqsic6odXfI53ETZRFoqJ4ZViKaj9OVhm9gjHbEI_xdgU/s1600/IMG_1785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWyzR7pUoNMzK8JaMFDlpEfdWUuuxX27cUodqHNfidpCsrV09QxILbnh4rlVvyE3gmCvSrQWPw7Elvw_AEOeDZz3ULdDPPrYXQqsic6odXfI53ETZRFoqJ4ZViKaj9OVhm9gjHbEI_xdgU/s400/IMG_1785.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And that includes taking off your shoes and walking the smooth stones of the reflexology labyrinth, and even splashing in the water splattering over the weir of the upper pool to flow into the lower pool.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96l9PPY68YLGTGy-HW_DvJMdI2hpiBrg49n7U7LYrQb0RkNCY8VmjACxIS8YHqsJ1DeJN2l4clygO99gdRf4HKOb-R7IqeEEqnbwTATxjaH-T9hZT6o9Xih8edkCwU4yxsv93SmSZgbNs/s1600/IMG_1787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96l9PPY68YLGTGy-HW_DvJMdI2hpiBrg49n7U7LYrQb0RkNCY8VmjACxIS8YHqsJ1DeJN2l4clygO99gdRf4HKOb-R7IqeEEqnbwTATxjaH-T9hZT6o9Xih8edkCwU4yxsv93SmSZgbNs/s400/IMG_1787.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ferns are one of my most favorite forest plants, they seem so delicate and shy, somehow. Remind me sometime to tell you how you can eat them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xZ_FXKXnaj0ZAFv3HHfNeSy86Z2VsRdrG2jWw6PP1-5K-4yGi2JAlix47zB1Urvxntmzu3xnkZwqPkZI1EjUmVZr7BZjet7M_hxvwKNhE8_sV9x7WW51vncv133UII7NMt9KeOdrrE8n/s1600/IMG_1779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xZ_FXKXnaj0ZAFv3HHfNeSy86Z2VsRdrG2jWw6PP1-5K-4yGi2JAlix47zB1Urvxntmzu3xnkZwqPkZI1EjUmVZr7BZjet7M_hxvwKNhE8_sV9x7WW51vncv133UII7NMt9KeOdrrE8n/s400/IMG_1779.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I like this photo for the tease of the stone wall in the distance.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_K5B0gGgFh00lRIe5nKOfPmudWd4fi-O1hNCVPnkNVJJk6hE-_OK3PvHBopQTPPC9k-E9BaSsWhfaoIOboy0pQzWbSjGYLXjfYnvRPFSvJ-2U1MhG2Et06JlqQFva3_-uoVhke4oe4jJ/s1600/IMG_1780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_K5B0gGgFh00lRIe5nKOfPmudWd4fi-O1hNCVPnkNVJJk6hE-_OK3PvHBopQTPPC9k-E9BaSsWhfaoIOboy0pQzWbSjGYLXjfYnvRPFSvJ-2U1MhG2Et06JlqQFva3_-uoVhke4oe4jJ/s400/IMG_1780.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Goodbye for now. Pat the bunny before you go. So cool and smooth...</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-26441457023533060322015-07-04T10:44:00.000-04:002015-09-17T15:59:49.445-04:00The times, they are a-changin'<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxntr5w_RM73x59LnD7Bn03DCswopgyPwi6483477a-vVkOWh1GuAhocx-7hjfX8F1kivW7SL_58LOg88vzhadwkHDLCyK8r6bxRn9rf80Ix0x1x9jN833bmD0Ad1cf0Qy7f8u4qHiX6W/s1600/DSCN5101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxntr5w_RM73x59LnD7Bn03DCswopgyPwi6483477a-vVkOWh1GuAhocx-7hjfX8F1kivW7SL_58LOg88vzhadwkHDLCyK8r6bxRn9rf80Ix0x1x9jN833bmD0Ad1cf0Qy7f8u4qHiX6W/s400/DSCN5101.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storm clouds scudding over Biddeford Pool at high tide</td></tr>
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Wow. Yup, it's been a long time. I gave serious thought to shutting down this blog, due to my not feeling inspired to express myself. And yet, I'm back. Who knows what changes my motivation....<br />
There certainly has been no lack of happenings in my life. Maybe I've had a lot of attention consumed by other people's life events, drawing me away from my simple pastimes. The little avocations that are easier to share, like needlework and domestic arts like cooking and sewing.<br />
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Here's a little update on what has consumed my attention and time for the last several months.<br />
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David. David is doing quite well. Now. We have been through some seriously scary times. He was in a clinical trial for a new cancer drug, to which he seemed to respond beautifully. The study protocol then introduced the older drug, and his troubles began. It's not clear to me whether the older drug caused the problems, or if it resulted from the addition of the older drug after the newer drug. You see, both drugs work by stimulating/facilitating the body's immune system to kill off the cancerous melanocytes. Some people experience complications that seem to be primarily related to inflammation in organs unrelated to the melanocytes. The more commonly noted conditions are pneumonitis and colitis, inflammation of the lungs, and the large intestine. In severe cases, the inflammation can render the afflicted to be minimally functional, even to the extent of complete failure. And when major organs fail, it is life-threatening. The treatment is high-dose corticosteroids to fight the inflammation and thus allow a return to normal function. This buys time to determine and treat the cause of the inflammatory response. David developed severe colitis and moderately severe pneumonitis. He ended up in a hospital bed for 5 weeks! And since that time, he has been fighting from all the complications of which there have been many, including adrenal failure, GI bleeding, severe anemia, requiring blood transfusions, malnutrition requiring intravenous feeding, deep venous thromboses requiring blood-thinning and complicating the GI bleeding and anemia, pulmonary embolism, taxing his already compromised lung function, atrial fibrillation, which I attribute to the strain on his heart by the PE and anemia. Oh yeah, and opportunistic infections from his immunocompromised state, including fungal pneumonia, systemic cytomegalovirus and possibly bacterial pneumonia. Oh yeah, and diabetes due to the steroids, requiring insulin injections and blood sugar testing 4x a day. Fortunately, he has recovered from most of these complications. In March, he had some back pain from one of the tumors in a vertebra compressing his spinal cord, and received a week of radiation. Next week, he is due for his quarterly check-up to see if tumors are still receding or staying the same size, or if they are growing or spreading. <br />
Whew, writing the David update has taken a lot of words and energy, so I'll quit for now.WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-41944423593900714882014-09-03T12:53:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:02:05.291-04:00Things are looking up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeusK9Rg059h3JrObTP-OyYpJGQ-P3fs2BacHfqh5NFNGFUmYCZYrHC-VDBzy0mq3TtLLjJxK8-I-VzZzADmAPClgRSCGhVXuYuec3z1YJ7yrtDr9AI948USvgGaVpz5LOcTbvHj7uq51/s1600/DSCN4724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeusK9Rg059h3JrObTP-OyYpJGQ-P3fs2BacHfqh5NFNGFUmYCZYrHC-VDBzy0mq3TtLLjJxK8-I-VzZzADmAPClgRSCGhVXuYuec3z1YJ7yrtDr9AI948USvgGaVpz5LOcTbvHj7uq51/s400/DSCN4724.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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What a lovely summer it has been. We have had a cooler summer than usual, having never even seen a single day where the temperature reached 90 degrees. We're getting a little warmth and humidity now, but not unbearable. Living on Maine's coast the way we do, we do not have central air conditioning. There are so few times that we really wish we did. Oh yes, it gets hot, and we find ourselves languishing in front of fans, but the worst is usually over in a few hours. A couple of weeks ago, it felt like autumn was arriving, with daily highs in the 70s, and nightly lows in the 50s -- heaven!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3dz5hHNvVag2PRkEJrnjqrmePJB1VZ1Xmu5CrtkjRCa55mGiyLbne3qah7FnOP80XUiH6ZClfSV5355xfMIBqAQkKQEdOxxtA_aq7QNItBaFiC9FRb0zMBLIzGzFltPBn8DtuhjSKhDE/s1600/DSCN4741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3dz5hHNvVag2PRkEJrnjqrmePJB1VZ1Xmu5CrtkjRCa55mGiyLbne3qah7FnOP80XUiH6ZClfSV5355xfMIBqAQkKQEdOxxtA_aq7QNItBaFiC9FRb0zMBLIzGzFltPBn8DtuhjSKhDE/s1600/DSCN4741.JPG" width="468" /></a></div>
I have kept myself busy with household and family activities. My two college boys were home. All three of the boys came home filthy each day, having worked hard on a landscaping crew that helps keep Kennebunk and Kennebunkport looking immaculately manicured. (Laundry hint here: 1/2 cup of Borax, hot water and a double measure of cheap laundry detergent does the trick for their work clothes -- sometimes I ran an extra rinse cycle too.) Ian lobstered for Sheldon on the weekends and worked on refurbishing his own lobster boat in every free minute. Evan surfed at Fortune's Rocks (the beach near our home) every chance he got. His dear sweet GF Christina came over once or twice a week. I can't get enough of the happy light she shines around here. And Sean worked hard, worked out hard in preparation for his senior year football season, and worried hard about his upcoming college applications. <br />
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The biggest news of my summer is that my dear brother David is doing really well in his battle with melanoma. I hardly dare write about it, since I feel almost superstitious about it, like if I say out loud that I think he will win his fight, that I will jinx his odds. I know it's silly, but there it is.<br />
David was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma, which in the past, really has been a death sentence. As in, 6 months - 2 years survival. But that was before, and now, I am immeasurably thankful to say that he is getting the best of the best treatment available, and that other people with more dire cases than his(!), are being called cured. By their oncologists. You don't hear them utter that word often. Years and years ago, I removed a melanoma from David's back. That was a bit scary. I referred him out to a specialist, who performed a wide excision, and a sentinel node biopsy, both of which confirmed that the melanoma was <i>in situ</i>, meaning no evidence that it had spread, and that it had been cured by the original excision. Going forward, it meant that he had a higher risk of another melanoma, and that vigilance with limiting sun exposure and regular careful and thorough skin exams were indicated. And he has done that.<br />
This spring however, he had a black toenail. Being a builder, he usually has a black fingernail or two, from bruising. He didn't remember getting an injury, but sure enough the nail shed as he expected it would. Instead of healing, and new nail appearing, the nail bed was getting worse, bloody, swollen, and he was having trouble wearing shoes, because of the bulky bandaging he was wrapping his toe in. A biopsy showed melanoma. This was surprising because we always thought that any new melanomas would occur in a more consistently sun-exposed area (back, shoulders, head). All the information I've ever found about melanoma in the nailbed was that they predominantly occur in dark-skinned individuals. David and I are both very fair-skinned Caucasians. Further testing showed that he does not have the most common "melanoma gene", and therefore wasn't eligible for the gene-targeted therapies. He has melanoma tumors in most of his bones, and some in soft tissue. But none in his brain, or heart. This spread of tumors distant from the original tumor automatically places him in Stage 4, which is the most serious. Here's where the story improves.<br />
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David was referred to the Melanoma Clinic at Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston. He qualified for a clinical trial which is being accelerated due to the success they have had so far. He has been getting intravenous infusions of a wonder drug every 2 weeks all summer long. He has felt well enough to work, to play, to live his life, mostly. His dear wife Paula, has devoted herself to feeding him all the best fresh organic healthy foods, and eliminating stress, seeking tranquility and peace as much as possible. We want his immune system at the top of its game. We have all been praying our knees off, and loving on each other overtly, instead of quietly, with New England restraint and dignity. Oh, the hugging and kissing, the smiles and laughter, the declarations of "I love you" right out loud and everything.<br />
Today, David will get news of his first round of imaging tests, a quantitative measure of how he has responded to his treatment. I am dying for word, although I am pretty sure the news will be good, based on how well David looks on the whole, and that the tumor on his toe has receded and stopped bleeding. He has been wearing shoes (instead of sandals with socks). We joke about how many new pairs of shoes he has been sporting. His sis-in-law gave him a plaque showing a glass slipper, and a quote from Cinderella: "The right shoe can change your life." I call him Imelda.<br />
For now, that's the news from this corner.WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-45142507947224968082014-06-07T11:43:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:04:04.128-04:00 Irene as Home Nurse, or Bedside Sitting, Part Two<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zvLJ5ksDaKdGa0hiry_1loKizF2xWg0b36L7qDuzFwGP3qyKTXJseDPZRIoNOb00kLzpnSjCAttgL-3je6tDuIQ-Q3cb7T8No2HAbWl3ZQmKUdWypepy7sP7aOYcVqpbze7bmv6fx6nu/s1600/Grampa_1960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zvLJ5ksDaKdGa0hiry_1loKizF2xWg0b36L7qDuzFwGP3qyKTXJseDPZRIoNOb00kLzpnSjCAttgL-3je6tDuIQ-Q3cb7T8No2HAbWl3ZQmKUdWypepy7sP7aOYcVqpbze7bmv6fx6nu/s400/Grampa_1960.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My Great-Grandfather, James</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">For years after my great-grandmother died, my grandmother
Irene took care of her father, my great-grandfather. He and his sons had always “worked in the
woods”. In <st1:place w:st="on">Maine</st1:place> that means logging. Nowadays, logs, once cut and limbed, are “skidded”
out of the woods to be loaded onto log trucks using heavy machinery, specifically
“skidders”. I once heard a logger
bragging on his wife because she could “droive a skid-dah” as well as any man.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">But in the old days, loggers dragged (“twitched”) the logs
out of the woods using draft horses. A
good team of horses didn’t need driving; they knew the way on their own. But a young boy's introduction to logging
might be to drive the horses back and forth.
My father did that, learning to holler “gee” and “haw” for right and
left. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkBRfM8WcNUhz00fsy19UGkF3RvpVlUf6ICmGvE7qOLBgPnoHNveQzs76E4JAe7ns2e4w2jLSJEkLN1Zb8IsjV4jjKbUaPGv0HVjnRE2JwA6Di05QvzleDSOl70PveriH60IonXYT4qn0/s1600/Beulah___James.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkBRfM8WcNUhz00fsy19UGkF3RvpVlUf6ICmGvE7qOLBgPnoHNveQzs76E4JAe7ns2e4w2jLSJEkLN1Zb8IsjV4jjKbUaPGv0HVjnRE2JwA6Di05QvzleDSOl70PveriH60IonXYT4qn0/s1600/Beulah___James.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Great-Grandparents, Beulah and James</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I don’t know the details, but one day my great-grandfather
was under a tree when it came down the wrong way. It happens from time to time, and many of
these accidents result in fatality. So I
guess you could say Great-Grandpa was lucky to survive. His back was broken and spinal cord
injured. He became a paraplegic for the
rest of his life. I didn’t know him as
he died before I was born, but I have always heard glowing reports of the love
and respect his descendants had for him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So I suppose that it is appropriate that I think of my
grandmother Irene when I think of a
model for Bedside Sitting. She
was always busy and cheerful, and took so many hardships in stride. She was the kind of woman who was up with the
dawn every day, and to bed soon after supper was cleaned up. I remember her thinking her light bill must
have been minimal. She always kept a garden,
and was known to have awakened one morning to see a deer eating her peas. She grabbed her .22 and sneaked out into the “daw-yahd”*
in her bra and panties, and had venison for her freezer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I could go on and on telling little “rustic” stories about
her (she was a registered Maine guide, and known for her ability to track bear
for her urban clients looking for a hunting adventure), but my main focus is
how she was an example of how in former times, illness was attended in the
home, and necessarily part of comprehensive domestic training. More people were <i>at ease</i> with illness, as it entered and dwelt right in their own
homes with them. I am not for a minute
lamenting the advent of hospitals and other healthcare facilities, just
recognizing that the removal of sick people from our homes can have a
distancing effect. I have heard too many
people describe having a fear of hospitals, and observed enough people looking
anxious and ill-at-ease just entering the building to think that <i>all</i> of their discomfort in visiting the
ill can be attributed to their concern for the patient. I contend that both visitor and patient can
benefit from somehow eliminating this anxiety.
I’m not sure exactly how to accomplish this, but I suspect that simply
talking about it is a good place to start.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you a fear of hospitals? Are you uncomfortable around people when they
are sick? Have you ever been the “home
nurse” for a loved one? Did you feel
comfortable in the role? I really want
to hear your stories. If you want to
express an opinion on this topic, leave me a comment; maybe you’d like to be a
guest poster. I have no doubt that
whatever your experience, someone will be helped by hearing your story.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">* In <st1:state w:st="on">Maine</st1:state>, a “dooryard” is
essentially the driveway, or more generally, the part of the yard which
constitutes the approach to the house.
The term undoubtedly precedes the automobile, and every winter it is
important to keep the dooryard clear of snow, so you can get in and out to the
road.</span></div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-37074878205164196842014-06-04T12:06:00.001-04:002015-09-17T16:05:04.036-04:00Being Irene (or Bedside Sitting, Part One)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcPIhktQdw24sOS-A1gqaX5gOLdN8HR7PhbHwubhBPUEMmDvmHRvak_VEDvLxW_rkHZgI4E9TIDKRYjALNT4h4HLS2_zqFyWj_KulD5ESbBQ1ELCstSUqJKoSfOxzqnzov44n64hFy5mn/s1600/Irene_and_Son.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcPIhktQdw24sOS-A1gqaX5gOLdN8HR7PhbHwubhBPUEMmDvmHRvak_VEDvLxW_rkHZgI4E9TIDKRYjALNT4h4HLS2_zqFyWj_KulD5ESbBQ1ELCstSUqJKoSfOxzqnzov44n64hFy5mn/s1600/Irene_and_Son.jpg" width="434" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My grandmother and my father<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I don’t much like giving advice, unless it is asked
for. And when it is asked for, I can do
a better job if given a chance to sort out my thoughts on the subject. Today, I am posting unasked-for advice, only
because I think it may help someone. I
don’t consider myself an expert in any way, but I have experience in two
areas: 1) I have been a healthcare
provider, and as such have worked in hospitals, nursing homes, and medical
offices; 2) I have been a family member
when my loved ones have been ill. My
father battled cancer a few years ago.
My mother has had her hospital episodes.
My stepfather is in the midst of chemotherapy, and now my heretofore
robust and healthy older brother is in a battle for his life. Two of my children were hospitalized as
neonates for Respiratory Syncitial Virus, and one of them also for
hyperbilirubinemia. (I also have been a
patient, enduring 5 days in hospital for a particularly challenging case of <i>Clostridium difficile</i> colitis, an
occupational hazard of nursing home work.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have encountered many patients, family members and healthcare
workers. I have found it helpful always to
keep in mind that patients and their families are rarely at their best in the
midst of a medical crisis. At the worst,
their world is crashing around them, perhaps changing their lives forever, and
at the very least, they are experiencing a disruption in their daily rhythm,
adapting and absorbing a cost of resources, time, etc, and challenging their
coping strategies.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I had a grandmother, whose first name was Irene, who taught
by example that loving people brings out the best in them. And for her, “loving” people was not an
emotion you experienced passively.
Loving people involved active intent, being consistently kind, jovial
and accepting. I never saw her react to
someone’s negative behavior. Ever. She never seemed to nurse a grudge, even a
score, or retaliate a slight. (And there
were <i>plenty</i> of slights, believe
me.) She blessed everyone around her
with her cheerful disposition, and strength of character. She was unconventional in many ways, and as
such, not universally admired; for many people it took a long time to
understand and accept what she was all about, but I think that, sooner or
later, most who knew her “got it”. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A long time ago, I concluded that one of the most worthwhile
character strengths to develop was to be someone who brought out the best in
others. A little like Melanie Hamilton Wilkes in GWTW, Lately however, I have taken to calling it "Being Irene". For the most part, the
old-fashioned idea of “etiquette” seeks to accomplish just this. I needn’t lament here the shocking examples
we can see on TV of the impact of abandoning such behaviors. There has been such an emphasis on “being
yourself”, “do your own thing”, “do what’s right for you”, in the last few
decades that I fear we as a society lose something if we don’t consider one
another more. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We could all use a little more "Being Irene".</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-9443084096958644552014-05-29T14:33:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:06:02.824-04:00Hay, I mean, Hey, I'm working on it.......<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKdenR1ZJ88qC_R_rd6lSm3Z9T_-vxdNPcoottDPAsDaLXKNpWVpF4cOpdc0kCe9arAQdkOXrYWitsk7dqBbfpBrKjlRsg5E4Vl0MDBa0aYs2LraT55pUPIzL_2xAJY-_6miyXI6ySubk/s1600/Haying_in_Dallas_Pltn_.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably my great grandfather and great uncle?<br />
Haying, Dallas Plantation, Maine (near Rangeley)<br />
Probably 1930's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<strike style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></strike></div>
<br />
Every once in a while, I will be composing a post, and hit some key that deletes everything. I have no idea what I do, but I think it may be related to the heel of my palm brushing my laptop touch pad as I type.<br />
Usually, what I have lost is fresh enough in my mind, or unedited enough to warrant re-writing, and while it is exasperating, I get over it and re-write.<br />
It just happened again, and I lost a story I'm not up to re-doing at the moment. <br />
I've been writing down my thoughts most of the day, and finally decided that I would do a blog post.<br />
And then it vanished. I bet there is a way to recover these things, but I just can't figure it out. <br />
I have often thought that I should compose my posts in a Word document first, but I think I then found cumbersome to get photos in the right places. <br />
Anyway, besides some reminiscing I was doing, I was simply going to post that I am working on some posts. I still am; I think that some of what I have been writing today will appear in this space in future, just needs a little more work for blog-readiness. <br />
I will say, however, that I have seen many blogs whose authors primarily write about hobby/crafty activities, and apologize when they are pre-occupied with life's challenges, and "fail" to post regularly. Or even, apologize for making reference to their personal concerns, which may be "unhappy" topics. "I don't want to be a <i>Debbie Downer</i>, but....."<br />
I happen to feel that we, none of us bloggers, have an obligation to our visitors. Like any other medium, people can take or leave what we have to say. Not that I don't work at expressing mutually gratifying content, but I usually don't shy away from being direct about what is on my mind. For one thing, I use this blog, not so much as a personal journal, but at least as a general chronicle, suitable for sharing. I think there is value in what I have to say. After all, if I didn't, why bother? I trust that the occasional visitor will find value too, since I find value in the simplest of blog posts. Want to discuss the merits of how you store your coffee filters? I'll listen. Rant about the frustration of getting your vacuum cleaner fixed. I'm all ears. Puzzle over why you couldn't make sense of a sewing pattern instruction. I'm captivated. Maybe I find comfort in our commonality. Likewise, if you are struggling with bigger issues like being sick or out of work or worrying over something, I never feel disappointed when reading about it on your quilting blog. Maybe I'm just nosy.<br />
So.........<br />
<b>Thank you</b> to you if you came to visit and read my last post, and had the time and words to leave a sympathetic comment. If you read it and didn't know what to say, that's okay too. I know it doesn't mean you were indifferent. If you were disappointed not to find pretty little baby clothes or something like that, I know it was only temporary, and you wandered off and got your "fix" somewhere else. I hope you came back and here's why.<br />
<b>Sooner or Later. </b>Mama always said there'd be times like this. Unless you die young, or don't love anybody, you will face the fear and worry of having someone you love be sick, or possibly even die. And while blog-surfing may be "merely" an escapist activity for you, I believe our blogs can serve an even better purpose. Escapism is a perfectly good coping strategy, to an extent, but it is limited. Their can be real power, however, in knowledge. If the information you consider is <i>truly wisdom</i>, and you apply it to your life, you have broadened your options for coping. Many peoples' experiences garner them wisdom, and those who can benefit from the experiences and wisdom of others will avoid needless suffering. No amount of wisdom can insure against suffering, but facing tragedy with limited coping resources causes suffering that is truly needless.<br />
So, I will be sharing a bit about the challenges my loved ones are facing, but I think the focus will really be on what it is like to be a relatively healthy Bedside Sitter, wanting desperately to make things better, but feeling powerless. Being in the immediate support network of someone who is sick can be vulnerable and lonely, but it can also be fulfilling and empowering. If you're up to it, read my posts. If you're not, they'll be archived for later. And I'm not done stitching and homemaking and laughing and enjoying life. I'll share that stuff too.WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-86934426531049919092014-05-17T10:40:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:06:58.207-04:00Sad.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDg3MEQTpTn_mE2ntTupUp4jGi57_DbcoOTtgFRpznUNTrgg_vQxVVqxTeW476c5akW-oUIARiroi09AncakkY_lbFCiQjNDuNW5oLlxxjB5WQjmlufv8Q4MzA4YuL9gD4XwFjAJik_N5/s1600/DSCN2318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDg3MEQTpTn_mE2ntTupUp4jGi57_DbcoOTtgFRpznUNTrgg_vQxVVqxTeW476c5akW-oUIARiroi09AncakkY_lbFCiQjNDuNW5oLlxxjB5WQjmlufv8Q4MzA4YuL9gD4XwFjAJik_N5/s1600/DSCN2318.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Waiting to see what the next tide will bring......</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I will be taking a hiatus from blogging. I already have been gone longer than I planned. I have things going which keep me from making pretty things, and are more important than taking pretty pictures.<br />
You see, my stepfather was diagnosed with leukemia in March, and I have been helping a little. And now my brother has been diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma. It's a bit overwhelming. I'm going up to Stratton in a couple of hours to hug my mother and brother and stepfather and sister-in-law and niece. We'll talk, we'll catch up, we'll eat together, we'll pause and sigh. Maybe we'll cry a little, but we'll probably tease and laugh and tell stories. Some of us will pray. I hope some of us will pray together. I hope we'll sing hymns together to help us remember God's grace and truth. We'll probably phone various other people. And make plans. And wonder what the future holds. And maybe I'll blog some of it, but I probably won't for a while anyway. <br />
I will wonder what you all are blogging about. I'll check in on ThimbleAnna who is also caring for loved ones who are ailing. So, I'll be back when it feels right.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAmmnOoYsmJOsSYoLKBmwE7RqnZrONdmyjWyptWucWxvooDEKcEBVo5oWuGk-sE5V1y7hFXsn58fZu7PBoVXey1wEFTRzJ4i1EUP5rGXemMP_tHtNILuR_g1FWp3J-uXn-edCE-mj2pDk/s1600/DSCN2323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAmmnOoYsmJOsSYoLKBmwE7RqnZrONdmyjWyptWucWxvooDEKcEBVo5oWuGk-sE5V1y7hFXsn58fZu7PBoVXey1wEFTRzJ4i1EUP5rGXemMP_tHtNILuR_g1FWp3J-uXn-edCE-mj2pDk/s1600/DSCN2323.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An up hill climb.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-63369126488177304032014-04-18T10:54:00.001-04:002015-09-17T16:08:37.214-04:00Easter Greetings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCV9XUQxn9xmpgthiILpxW-sm0Z7uQnV9HUSK3T4WWEz2dLYhhg4gyDyomkKiAeFeNR6mo5AAR1jRyIkhXWXARwE33TV4GeKlyibAHoAM_cb47xVepoBj0X5HgQvlefnlWPu5t2FpFxtV8/s1600/DSCN4616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCV9XUQxn9xmpgthiILpxW-sm0Z7uQnV9HUSK3T4WWEz2dLYhhg4gyDyomkKiAeFeNR6mo5AAR1jRyIkhXWXARwE33TV4GeKlyibAHoAM_cb47xVepoBj0X5HgQvlefnlWPu5t2FpFxtV8/s1600/DSCN4616.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
Wishing you all a happy and glorious Easter! May you be surrounded by those you love and may you rejoice in the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ!</div>
<div align="center">
I have recently attempted to put myself on a blogging schedule of sorts. I thought I'd try to blog on Mon, Weds, Fri of each week, but not to beat myself up if a day came and I had no ideas or pics/text ready to go. So, if you'll look back, you'll see that I missed Monday of this week and the preceding Friday. Then a bunch of things came together for Wednesday.</div>
<div align="center">
And now, a new leaf I'm turning over is that I am trying to commit myself to realistic scheduling, anticipating when I can and when I can't expect to be a regular blogger. I have always admired those bloggers who courteously notify their readers when they are taking a break. I have habitually just vanished without any hint of why, and I'm sorry about that. So today, I am announcing that I don't expect to blog next week at all. I will have a houseful starting later today for the Easter weekend. My youngest son Sean (who is 17 and a jr in high school), will be on Easter vacation next week, and wants to go visiting colleges. So, with any level of organization and coordination, I will be back on Monday, April 28th. Let's see how I do! (But I will still no doubt, be visiting your blogs and leaving comments; I love seeing what you-all are up to.)</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-55690915285550105212014-04-16T20:20:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:16:56.715-04:00GuEsS what DaY it Is?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I have a brother named Mike, and it's all I can do not to call him up every Wednesday morning. </div>
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This was the view from my kitchen window this particular hUMp day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3d4w3BgBFo6qeqFtl87KMb2J2NfMdY0W-MX2LsRUapWxQ-SCL9_1U3uvHiW8EjsOJvQv6FlL2MaSdxQn0dmLtFvAuojgJpU9jjwDLEyIeMCVvA2xUdofvhUahIhkmeqB-Hdoo2GGsfet/s1600/DSCN4585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3d4w3BgBFo6qeqFtl87KMb2J2NfMdY0W-MX2LsRUapWxQ-SCL9_1U3uvHiW8EjsOJvQv6FlL2MaSdxQn0dmLtFvAuojgJpU9jjwDLEyIeMCVvA2xUdofvhUahIhkmeqB-Hdoo2GGsfet/s1600/DSCN4585.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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At least there's blue sky looking to the southwest.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiDkeItpOMO7TueQ9MqBaLhkJnOp3zP1kKFsLhZLA4UmSG8goazr2k1UTt0Vl685PXgdCfBXm_AY48YtKkZ2Wm6Ud-ozm2e3o-Zt6uvqzLwxJxyXVoO5yUH5wohyZp5AuTIQWjRTPKdu1/s1600/DSCN4596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiDkeItpOMO7TueQ9MqBaLhkJnOp3zP1kKFsLhZLA4UmSG8goazr2k1UTt0Vl685PXgdCfBXm_AY48YtKkZ2Wm6Ud-ozm2e3o-Zt6uvqzLwxJxyXVoO5yUH5wohyZp5AuTIQWjRTPKdu1/s1600/DSCN4596.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Which became widespread by 10 am. It stayed in the 40s but the snow melted.</div>
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This may not be exciting news where you live, but to us it's pretty big stuff. The maple trees are budding! I love how the red buds look against the blue sky.</div>
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I finally sent out another package to Nantucket. I finished the yellow moss stitch jacket. With the bunny buttons. I almost left off the pompon until I saw it as a sort of "cottontail".</div>
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Yes, I know the little ceramic bunny has a hole in the middle. That's because it is actually a napkin ring. I bought a set last year from <a href="http://www.thecharmedlifeonline.com/index.html" target="_blank">this website</a>. And the little white crochet bootees? These are so sweet, and I made them from <a href="http://lacycrochet.blogspot.com/2014/01/crochet-baby-booties-size-0-6-months.html" target="_blank">a pattern I borrowed</a> from <a href="http://lacycrochet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Olga at her blog Lacy Crochet</a>. I have more pics of the bootees that I want to share, but I am consulting Olga first, which is in keeping with her wishes. You see, she recently found her free patterns being stolen and sold on etsy! She is continuing to share free patterns, because she's just that kind of a generous person, and she loves to share crochet projects with others who love crochet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpU0Ed3I0yskPl5AVVQbqsQ-0TKpdu-eY6D6V_rbaNNmLO3D69qwGnicVkdcQKuSbIfAh4ltPrauNaYLNvzyUD7IzeXDxRq3Y11IGH4Wn8UafJK_2_jXzMXakQt_ruMO7ZQWnDfmbNnji/s1600/DSCN4610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpU0Ed3I0yskPl5AVVQbqsQ-0TKpdu-eY6D6V_rbaNNmLO3D69qwGnicVkdcQKuSbIfAh4ltPrauNaYLNvzyUD7IzeXDxRq3Y11IGH4Wn8UafJK_2_jXzMXakQt_ruMO7ZQWnDfmbNnji/s1600/DSCN4610.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I finally finished the bonnet to go with <a href="http://wendysbees.blogspot.com/2014/03/finally-finished.html" target="_blank">the Peek-a-Boo Sacque and Bootees</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72xLblqO-tBg1K2H0KntSM1mF6DidtPiBO7Yhr7CCZlOyjpWzsy9kCoTxfmGkjaQb8XtkYff2rqsWEW1U7Mes2GyslgCw-29zA-WGQ1Jn2-JHX0kih_frjTeNMYeHcB8pZVPjvtELkiid/s1600/DSCN4615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72xLblqO-tBg1K2H0KntSM1mF6DidtPiBO7Yhr7CCZlOyjpWzsy9kCoTxfmGkjaQb8XtkYff2rqsWEW1U7Mes2GyslgCw-29zA-WGQ1Jn2-JHX0kih_frjTeNMYeHcB8pZVPjvtELkiid/s1600/DSCN4615.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I kept putting it off because I knew I really needed to practice bullion roses more before I tried to do them on the bonnet. I used some tips and tricks from <a href="http://oldfashionedbaby.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jeannie Beaumeister at Old Fashioned Baby</a>. I attached the ribbon according to her recommendations (sort of), folding the end over and gathering it at about 3/4" in. Then I embroidered the rose on it. The ribbon I used was very ravelly and so I finished the cut ends with Dritz Fray Check, even the end I was folding over. It didn't want to fold over, I had to press it to get my point across. I also cut one ribbon about 3" longer than the other so that it would come out relatively even if it were tied with the bow on baby's right side.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBiAyGA9Gg-Zao544PqieJx66VTlLyd9VMJ8QU4AJlBNo19Qsrj6bPTx8VgyTFQetijFMDROwWj9cppzke-zUN_X90zCW_VE3EPwFR1rAum9p9aMayDL3Y8Q9gl6nu18ZjlkeISPR3QT_/s1600/DSCN4614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBiAyGA9Gg-Zao544PqieJx66VTlLyd9VMJ8QU4AJlBNo19Qsrj6bPTx8VgyTFQetijFMDROwWj9cppzke-zUN_X90zCW_VE3EPwFR1rAum9p9aMayDL3Y8Q9gl6nu18ZjlkeISPR3QT_/s1600/DSCN4614.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've saved the best for last.</div>
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The precious baby for whom I have been fussing all this time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0W6Oruf3YZPAx9UugcJJVgjKCqoIzYAlnPSH6QuVLiv2Khk0IYD6W5SBuXgNKGkEXm1mnku0PSAZWQoMGQfnbvE19wl-gFaTePWF6AwIz14PPOV1m0y0pEbQgpIr_0bIk6D_4lFgiVqb-/s1600/DSC09865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0W6Oruf3YZPAx9UugcJJVgjKCqoIzYAlnPSH6QuVLiv2Khk0IYD6W5SBuXgNKGkEXm1mnku0PSAZWQoMGQfnbvE19wl-gFaTePWF6AwIz14PPOV1m0y0pEbQgpIr_0bIk6D_4lFgiVqb-/s1600/DSC09865.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here she is, the lovely Marie Rose! These pictures are about a month old. My brother is tormenting me by not sending me <em>daily</em> cell phone shots. In the shot above, I believe she shows her mother's eyes and nose, but the chin is directly from her paternal grandfather (<a href="http://wendysbees.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-will-explain-my-absence.html" target="_blank">my Dad</a>). He had a distinct cleft; I have a bit of one too, more subtle. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1Sxw39eMfmMVIOFUxAUdweDg180lvi685kvOAmpxD9B7SzX0xed-hyBnHp_R8AP-pQdIviPEg8M4VucCZZF_AA5gB2wXbHp_9wPqQdMFvZjUS2bTpeAK9T3kpZvYN1ndKmqmZPgZfQUy/s1600/DSC09879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1Sxw39eMfmMVIOFUxAUdweDg180lvi685kvOAmpxD9B7SzX0xed-hyBnHp_R8AP-pQdIviPEg8M4VucCZZF_AA5gB2wXbHp_9wPqQdMFvZjUS2bTpeAK9T3kpZvYN1ndKmqmZPgZfQUy/s1600/DSC09879.JPG" width="540" /></a></div>
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Mum and I have yet to see this roly-poly cutie pie. Truth be told, we have been busy caring for someone who is ill, and unable to get away just yet. I'm setting my sights on Mothers' Day.</div>
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I want to cuddle her, smell her, gaze at her, can you blame me?</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-71446970206029426822014-04-09T15:42:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:11:15.586-04:00Spring WILL Be Here....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwrkyTYrH2gUn5wMlzALhTUVSqbjQ-6zABlt-6Yk49s2gtLS3knIFurSFf4yjp-ypzh_6lxHXT6NCv__sN2MZM9xx4EO3CfTwLq1XgfXBJ7COwaL7WMXjJkPiYa1Gi5AGrX9HBXPPJxdx/s1600/DSCN4563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwrkyTYrH2gUn5wMlzALhTUVSqbjQ-6zABlt-6Yk49s2gtLS3knIFurSFf4yjp-ypzh_6lxHXT6NCv__sN2MZM9xx4EO3CfTwLq1XgfXBJ7COwaL7WMXjJkPiYa1Gi5AGrX9HBXPPJxdx/s1600/DSCN4563.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here are some pictures I took on Sunday afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked around my yard to prepare mentally for
the yardwork ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our snow is gone…yea!! (Okay, except that little bit there....) Do you remember these pictures?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rpE2xDQ7wfK6KcYOl3AN-Hr6B28u47UMPuugP2DzJStjC6Dgl4xVNh4Frc8LCl0x0GcomohfSlEHVH8dK9XRCWRUPfkjWAo7gzZm7gs2rBOdkZUFtGHYsMMECk52mKHSvVoZKfmOXr03/s1600/DSCN4442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rpE2xDQ7wfK6KcYOl3AN-Hr6B28u47UMPuugP2DzJStjC6Dgl4xVNh4Frc8LCl0x0GcomohfSlEHVH8dK9XRCWRUPfkjWAo7gzZm7gs2rBOdkZUFtGHYsMMECk52mKHSvVoZKfmOXr03/s1600/DSCN4442.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijchABR8YT2gu943DVVYDfNLaQFm9wftMCEKJyJgdhbLttTJYidOAo_lWuBsKj0tKfXELU9VtWjqtaeYL8DZnilFnRyG-ul7l0qpdl8417ny1ejxLc9GSCg8g7i80xpqZn3044Bg9JrO4R/s1600/DSCN4443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijchABR8YT2gu943DVVYDfNLaQFm9wftMCEKJyJgdhbLttTJYidOAo_lWuBsKj0tKfXELU9VtWjqtaeYL8DZnilFnRyG-ul7l0qpdl8417ny1ejxLc9GSCg8g7i80xpqZn3044Bg9JrO4R/s1600/DSCN4443.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Well, fortunately, this is all that's left of that big snow bank, created by shoveling the driveway and front walk. The dogs are also now clipped. Poor Tucker (the big one) had so much dense fur, that he was panting whenever he was inside, and preferred to spend much of his day lying in the snow to stay cool! It was probably too soon, but I clipped Tammy too, who depends on her sweater and lying in pools of sun streaming through the windows to keep warm. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5My-U9_F04g01Wr9d2GlHblCJTo6Duf5zDsfBVoZbbalXFfXMaX3M4Egzv_aOZ7bLR9Tg4VfASIoLUXFweg7E-MNkB-GNEkfkVUTGANBnQgYahRE96ABaRUVtRkTwMLnTiojGRQ-_LUmJ/s1600/DSCN4564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5My-U9_F04g01Wr9d2GlHblCJTo6Duf5zDsfBVoZbbalXFfXMaX3M4Egzv_aOZ7bLR9Tg4VfASIoLUXFweg7E-MNkB-GNEkfkVUTGANBnQgYahRE96ABaRUVtRkTwMLnTiojGRQ-_LUmJ/s1600/DSCN4564.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here is our focal point granite lamp post, looking a little bit pathetic with nothing growing around it at the moment. There is the remnant of the clematis from last year. I should have cut it back in the fall. (There's that word "should" again.) I'll do it very soon, and let the warmth of the sun stimulate this year's growth. In the past, I have put daffodil and tulip bulbs around the post, only a little more than half came up, and less than half even had a bloom. Not very impressive. That fall, I dug up the bulbs, thinking of trying a different location. Most had rotted or had been eaten. I have many perennials die here. It's really more of a memorial site the more I think about it. Every time I look at it, I think of all the plants who died there. I think what it needs is to build up the bed with several inches of loam and fertilizer (the soil is very poor and sandy) and encircle it with some kind of stone or brick border. I should probably have a soaker hose in there, and keep it heavily mulched, as it gets a lot of afternoon sun, and dries out easily, regardless of how I try to keep it watered.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_wsXwZXbUw9RM0EGWaOcAUj5fDwVnLlJ0cxllI61vZGiBZegnmcNOkpjzB5ma-Wsgxgz0t0rHPauydn_eAjzVV46oYQHEoKOdoJ1hTerM4yZPSfNd4VMjicoWMGc2oQPgzFO2Z57Dttm5/s1600/DSCN4566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_wsXwZXbUw9RM0EGWaOcAUj5fDwVnLlJ0cxllI61vZGiBZegnmcNOkpjzB5ma-Wsgxgz0t0rHPauydn_eAjzVV46oYQHEoKOdoJ1hTerM4yZPSfNd4VMjicoWMGc2oQPgzFO2Z57Dttm5/s1600/DSCN4566.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is the "island" in our front yard. Tucker had to follow me around and keep an eye on what I might be up to. There will be beautiful hosta there later in the summer. To Tucker's left, you probably can't see it, but there is just one of only three signs of Spring green I found in the whole yard. It will be a daylily. I promise.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1XgTGhvukLldkgo0-r10IpvwLu6hq-8qWTSJqHDOYIHwMap60oR1PFSKXzGmLx4DTv2gR3N_0V0HjeGJELrZLRhTG5KCssqHgUDw6hGTjhK92nej_rfkY6dfXwOQBAhbSjj7NrrFFSlz/s1600/DSCN4567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1XgTGhvukLldkgo0-r10IpvwLu6hq-8qWTSJqHDOYIHwMap60oR1PFSKXzGmLx4DTv2gR3N_0V0HjeGJELrZLRhTG5KCssqHgUDw6hGTjhK92nej_rfkY6dfXwOQBAhbSjj7NrrFFSlz/s1600/DSCN4567.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Between the rhododendron, the lilac is looking a little pathetic... I hope it'll be budding out soon. It is kind of a weird lilac, blooms later than the common variety, is actually a little ugly-looking when it blooms, smells wonderful, but it's all over in less than a week. I don't love it, but it is the only way I have for now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5My-U9_F04g01Wr9d2GlHblCJTo6Duf5zDsfBVoZbbalXFfXMaX3M4Egzv_aOZ7bLR9Tg4VfASIoLUXFweg7E-MNkB-GNEkfkVUTGANBnQgYahRE96ABaRUVtRkTwMLnTiojGRQ-_LUmJ/s1600/DSCN4564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5My-U9_F04g01Wr9d2GlHblCJTo6Duf5zDsfBVoZbbalXFfXMaX3M4Egzv_aOZ7bLR9Tg4VfASIoLUXFweg7E-MNkB-GNEkfkVUTGANBnQgYahRE96ABaRUVtRkTwMLnTiojGRQ-_LUmJ/s1600/DSCN4564.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPmUNsH7Fb96lMAs8C6QGIEz_cAqP3sjmjm1cNjc6OY7tOWd7G_2hO-yKkvoI6I9W-5EDcYCM4emSNxaziCCRf-lQh7ppIB412q02BDaSPiEEGel69Yz44TjH0YDNfLz8ub-IfOmC3JNW/s1600/DSCN4568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPmUNsH7Fb96lMAs8C6QGIEz_cAqP3sjmjm1cNjc6OY7tOWd7G_2hO-yKkvoI6I9W-5EDcYCM4emSNxaziCCRf-lQh7ppIB412q02BDaSPiEEGel69Yz44TjH0YDNfLz8ub-IfOmC3JNW/s1600/DSCN4568.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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On the corner of the house, the spirea look so scraggly, but they will come back. The question is whether I want to keep them there where they tend to obscure my roses.</div>
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You can't tell that there are 3 David Austin roses behind them. More decisions about whether they are in the right place.</div>
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Can you see the self-appointed Yard Guard checking up on me? A little territorial testosterone, maybe? (How can that be? He's had those removed...)</div>
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Here is the second sign of Spring, found it in the backyard:</div>
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Pussy Willows!</div>
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I used to clip these and bring them in to display, but in the 17 years we've lived here, this tree has grown to where I can no longer reach them. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKNLEgkuwMlJvhxuxnCYUI5qP78mVzmz880BafEF0cejsfD6TqwJbWpIoQjlsxL2giciYkDZhoNozbgjpYZ2MdD6j45_K5AlW2V7O7v2KEWLSUnUhP3XGqMXZQVGdeJSCPxEOl8GSzlmU/s1600/DSCN4573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKNLEgkuwMlJvhxuxnCYUI5qP78mVzmz880BafEF0cejsfD6TqwJbWpIoQjlsxL2giciYkDZhoNozbgjpYZ2MdD6j45_K5AlW2V7O7v2KEWLSUnUhP3XGqMXZQVGdeJSCPxEOl8GSzlmU/s1600/DSCN4573.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Here is the forsythia, still appearing quite dormant. I'm not even sure if I can even clip some to bring in to force yet, I didn't see any swelling buds. Oh, yeah, and that is a little snow there....that was Sunday, though, I think it is gone now. :)</div>
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And here it is: the final sign of Spring in my yard </div>
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Everybody's favorite -- a dandelion! </div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-40590774503957568942014-04-06T23:40:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:16:00.729-04:00Little Baby Bunny Buttons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvYAWGngS_jgACQMrCAfFsxThNBWnzrmH54d51PZNcEardEXZ6y_5ssjAl26K-8CY92RMfPvV5ireud5kUhBazBu800TDAEcmdCuYfjCCgbDm1RL6vbeAo4kSH1vafeBrWCVX2TYqSVDo/s1600/DSCN4475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvYAWGngS_jgACQMrCAfFsxThNBWnzrmH54d51PZNcEardEXZ6y_5ssjAl26K-8CY92RMfPvV5ireud5kUhBazBu800TDAEcmdCuYfjCCgbDm1RL6vbeAo4kSH1vafeBrWCVX2TYqSVDo/s1600/DSCN4475.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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These are some buttons I have been collecting for baby garments. I bought the bunny buttons about 7 years ago, when I was knitting this precious little jacket.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VE0f7CAbedBpm6VQ4gtygYAhX_2n9DpF1AXlVb-A6FqAwXiRUwvmDz2U5hDpGsIaCOilK-ozH7q0uzCQQsztca99vTZAEprArdJbNXRfx5wM71zj9rGVl_KURUQM3VdFa4puWxDY8ipX/s1600/175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VE0f7CAbedBpm6VQ4gtygYAhX_2n9DpF1AXlVb-A6FqAwXiRUwvmDz2U5hDpGsIaCOilK-ozH7q0uzCQQsztca99vTZAEprArdJbNXRfx5wM71zj9rGVl_KURUQM3VdFa4puWxDY8ipX/s1600/175.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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I know, right?</div>
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I borrowed this pic from the Yarnspiration website which offers the free <a href="http://www.yarnspirations.com/pattern/knitting/hooded-baby-jacket" target="_blank">pattern</a> here. Well, the baby I was knitting for was really not someone I knew very well, and so, when I didn't finish before baby was born, it got forgotten, and I think I just sent a card. And so it languished.....</div>
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Recently, I pulled out my stash of baby yarn and I rediscovered the jacket pieces, waiting to be seamed, edged, buttoned and pomponed. (What? That's not a word?)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7w29I2WusTWCRfWRnsuKVbbQPi71Ysa34B_5xWJckZgDwGt7Wv2mI_A8hhSnVSE9Xkv7wk5U1sXskGfYlMw4HeoJcNEAPmebNX-XPVDU7f2OlZruOFdX9FDxhtrPHx0TtgQNE9p7FsTJH/s1600/DSCN4575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7w29I2WusTWCRfWRnsuKVbbQPi71Ysa34B_5xWJckZgDwGt7Wv2mI_A8hhSnVSE9Xkv7wk5U1sXskGfYlMw4HeoJcNEAPmebNX-XPVDU7f2OlZruOFdX9FDxhtrPHx0TtgQNE9p7FsTJH/s1600/DSCN4575.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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After the picture was taken, I found the missing sleeve. Whew! But I didn't find it before nearly finishing a new one I was whipping out with the leftover yarn. </div>
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Now, here's where you come in....<em>What?</em> you say, <em>What have I got to do with it? No way am I seaming that thing!</em></div>
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No, no, no. I've finished the seaming, I'm working on the edging and I need to make a decision and I need your help. It's all about the buttons!</div>
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Now, look again at the pic above;<em> </em>I had originally chosen the bunny buttons for this sweet little jacket. But another set I really like is the little green flower buttons. I must really like them because on Tuesday, I stopped at JoAnn Fabrics in Auburn on my way home from Stratton, to take a look at, among other things, little baby buttons. See what I found?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLXZ1J60dktv1Ro3FVoJYMuwecr-mfKYo524VckWAyD25G37eQkxjorXKVjvdmQK-Pzh3Ehybxwh1P1a6vd7jy6THtvDqadsvdKccM__BhFtKJwimqwha6zy5HX7KhJhwwfZYO8qYMWoX/s1600/DSCN4562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLXZ1J60dktv1Ro3FVoJYMuwecr-mfKYo524VckWAyD25G37eQkxjorXKVjvdmQK-Pzh3Ehybxwh1P1a6vd7jy6THtvDqadsvdKccM__BhFtKJwimqwha6zy5HX7KhJhwwfZYO8qYMWoX/s1600/DSCN4562.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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See anything familiar? Yup. I'm consistent. I bought the same buttons twice.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5kitonWB5kGDmlMhTGZjhtQDhf9wDqM2qhmXWA92OnD5Z0s4FTZCixXhI04c2W1TCLZLaAd48nVsgN1UoFcQDoTw1oRx_Dec_D_jxPY8nWpasySAGfS6QpPZ1ULuJyRkPKQWpJw_HFYk/s1600/DSCN4576+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5kitonWB5kGDmlMhTGZjhtQDhf9wDqM2qhmXWA92OnD5Z0s4FTZCixXhI04c2W1TCLZLaAd48nVsgN1UoFcQDoTw1oRx_Dec_D_jxPY8nWpasySAGfS6QpPZ1ULuJyRkPKQWpJw_HFYk/s1600/DSCN4576+-+Copy.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Here they are in a lousy picture made lousier by my amateur editing, but the point is that I have such cute ribbons that could be laced through matching bootees to wear with the jacket, either the gingham or the dots.</div>
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And here are the bunny buttons:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvjhrzf-pKZlJI9pm5Kw79XOrwHCRygfhbXIv8ySc0E4L5bI80itbTg3pQmymMzBT-VJmw5FP9LHyNGwESDyrymOFjlu2SQ5SSzVU0x4WyHAM8-2swcexFIERj4XoAJpY_75PSDKPx9qd/s1600/DSCN4577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvjhrzf-pKZlJI9pm5Kw79XOrwHCRygfhbXIv8ySc0E4L5bI80itbTg3pQmymMzBT-VJmw5FP9LHyNGwESDyrymOFjlu2SQ5SSzVU0x4WyHAM8-2swcexFIERj4XoAJpY_75PSDKPx9qd/s1600/DSCN4577.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY74C-6TN43WjNgqkP3UY_VID4lLvqJnybEbVhWdYDrQoY1EXrzyuUITR2ka3BQC05MDraVzicLDFudeogh2oXZxvZ1Pc-y8bDIFAfj8426qflUh5mWvEPmuLWt2LeiGJ5w9UzYhAWzgue/s1600/DSCN4581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY74C-6TN43WjNgqkP3UY_VID4lLvqJnybEbVhWdYDrQoY1EXrzyuUITR2ka3BQC05MDraVzicLDFudeogh2oXZxvZ1Pc-y8bDIFAfj8426qflUh5mWvEPmuLWt2LeiGJ5w9UzYhAWzgue/s1600/DSCN4581.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And now a quick peek of other little goodies I'm sending to sweet little Marie Rose.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwm7keERtOVqtt5pTn4Lf3YBeNhCWasPy8vcobwF7C3ElFZ0SU9zx_-pyYDB7oXeYD6IzeOiFtwlUYaLoljTOWpePDy_FUyCvwvBMs3XPGL8Lri8osZkR34jME9O7ca04-9OPG45hrtYj/s1600/DSCN4559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwm7keERtOVqtt5pTn4Lf3YBeNhCWasPy8vcobwF7C3ElFZ0SU9zx_-pyYDB7oXeYD6IzeOiFtwlUYaLoljTOWpePDy_FUyCvwvBMs3XPGL8Lri8osZkR34jME9O7ca04-9OPG45hrtYj/s1600/DSCN4559.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Awaiting blocking and ribbons..</div>
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And if you read <a href="http://wendysbees.blogspot.com/2014/02/just-little-tease-really.html" target="_blank">this post</a>, you'll understand why I <em>had</em> to get this little outfit.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOW69lFijJ078AlvdIJFdXxA2RtGim9Q1bo-lJhU4dNiPDXVF6AO9ztWJUAgebLrb9zvIsQY3cwb42n4Rw3gus_HvZaOU4tdryoqBYtd1mQXX-wuvFnxRFWmqiqDj9inkQ-A74K7wECBX5/s1600/DSCN4556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOW69lFijJ078AlvdIJFdXxA2RtGim9Q1bo-lJhU4dNiPDXVF6AO9ztWJUAgebLrb9zvIsQY3cwb42n4Rw3gus_HvZaOU4tdryoqBYtd1mQXX-wuvFnxRFWmqiqDj9inkQ-A74K7wECBX5/s1600/DSCN4556.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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P.S. Don't forget to leave a comment about which buttons look best....Thanks!!</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-14588410232385791182014-04-04T14:23:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:14:12.106-04:00Stratton Sojourn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruB0h8oxFYHH4rpWM_Jlxfe_fRpsHhIjDsP1XAeCn3TkY_GFaJ18wThUNiXZ6KpZ0MDluaP29Ow256F4v2v3eVt-3g1asrWEXnt6QTcMxQuWUA5XoqWdvcu4_ykWY8GseRVPPhKlkiD6M/s1600/DSCN4551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruB0h8oxFYHH4rpWM_Jlxfe_fRpsHhIjDsP1XAeCn3TkY_GFaJ18wThUNiXZ6KpZ0MDluaP29Ow256F4v2v3eVt-3g1asrWEXnt6QTcMxQuWUA5XoqWdvcu4_ykWY8GseRVPPhKlkiD6M/s1600/DSCN4551.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Last Friday, I took a little trip. I drove up to Stratton, a tiny village in Eustis, to see my mother and my step-father. They live in a little house that was built by my grandfather (literally) probably about 1950. It just occurs to me that I don't know really what year, Mum would know. I'll have to ask.<br />
It's a 3-hour drive from where I live on the coast. And it's a 1,148 ft. "climb" from sea level. My ears pop once in the first hour of driving, and several times in the 3rd hour where the drive is the steepest.<br />
Being in the mountains, they aren't insulated by the ocean like I am, and so, fall comes 3-4 weeks earlier and spring about 3-4 weeks later. I took the picture above on April 1.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjViFuMclb5JIuN9Ng1IH3IT2PTzqXQptcISz_86ypbRdDSgjaqrhDMAQ-y9SnNF4dZadd2duln3RcvKA70NdWi3B6O_e9xGoamFgRURzuyyIfV1QLSXhkA9mE7FI_y3E1GuqXGlVQlPP/s1600/DSCN4509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjViFuMclb5JIuN9Ng1IH3IT2PTzqXQptcISz_86ypbRdDSgjaqrhDMAQ-y9SnNF4dZadd2duln3RcvKA70NdWi3B6O_e9xGoamFgRURzuyyIfV1QLSXhkA9mE7FI_y3E1GuqXGlVQlPP/s1600/DSCN4509.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
This cyclamen will have to do for Spring color, for now.<br />
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The windows on the back of the house look out onto the end of the Bigelow Mountain range.<br />
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The mountains are obscured by cloud cover here. I took this picture looking out the back door, over the deck railing. That blue thing is a cooler. We often use "Mother Nature's Icebox" when the indoor freezer is packed to the gills. Very handy during holidays and when you have stocked up for having guests. The little trail has been worn by one of the dogs. See the azalea? Won't be in bloom any time soon.<br />
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This view is the same as above, just shifted slightly to the left. Isn't the birch gorgeous? The deciduous tree on the right is a cherry tree. My grandfather planted it over 50 years ago. There is kind of a family story associated with that tree. When it was still quite small, my grandfather looked out one fall (or maybe early spring? I just know the tree wasn't all leafy) day, and saw a partridge (hereafter, referred to as "pa'tridge", in deference to local dialect) roosting in it. It looked quite disproportionate, where a partridge is a larger kind of bird and the cherry tree being young was quite small, so he got his camera and got a picture. For some reason, there are multiple copies of the "pa'tridge in a cherry tree", and one always seem to show up randomly in any collection of pictures my grandmother had. She even had taken a picture of my grandfather taking a picture of the pa'tridge in the cherry tree. I never look at that tree without thinking of the pa'tridge story.<br />
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My stepfather, Jim, is an avid outdoorsman, and has always kept bird-hunting dogs. Lil is an elderly Brittany Spaniel, and very sweet and gentle. She was quite a birder in her day. May is a younger dog, a French Brittany, which are just a bit smaller, a little more of a delicate build. She has a personality like a firecracker, or a Jack Russell terrier. She is as smart as a whip, and very strong-willed. She has been very difficult to train, but also knows how to win you over, when you're about to give up on her in exasperation. We had a standoff when she slinked off with a slipper I had kicked off, and so I picked up her Nylabone. There we were, staring at each other, finally she dropped the slipper and came for the bone. It was really quite entertaining. She and I became good friends!<br />
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It doesn't take her long to get up in the warm recliner when Jim gets up for a minute! And being very nosy, she's always making sure she doesn't miss anything.<br />
I think I miss her a little.<br />
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Edited 4/5 to add:<br />
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If you haven't been over to <a href="http://www.maryjanestearoom.com/" target="_blank">Mary Jane's Tearoom</a>, I gently suggest you get over there, as there is quite a premium giveaway going, which you can enter through April 17th. . See all the <strong><em>Cath Kidston</em></strong> pretties, and the <strong><em>Debbie Bliss </em></strong>Baby Cashmerino. If you enter as a result of seeing this little mention, let me know. <em>Happy Saturday!</em>WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-63852727373873106532014-03-26T10:53:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:15:13.285-04:00Waiting and Watching....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Wishing....</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Wanting....</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Sipping....</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Savoring....</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Reading....</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Dreaming....</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>and Designing....</em></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">What about YoU?</span></strong></div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-31004443070778729642014-03-18T11:04:00.001-04:002015-09-17T16:17:54.504-04:00Latest Projects, Part Two (and a teeny tiny announcement)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNJ7wgEEUf_dH-_A1LFpODdHbTOZCETCGKP2OtS0K4GCu1OlDXxRdX02IbxZmpC8-mOT2O_xdt5brns6JB1z5Q7X-dUEaCrWC34Gkh83SZZn2puBKff6Vocq8n9n3TuDttgue4LQMOVKG/s1600/DSCN4496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNJ7wgEEUf_dH-_A1LFpODdHbTOZCETCGKP2OtS0K4GCu1OlDXxRdX02IbxZmpC8-mOT2O_xdt5brns6JB1z5Q7X-dUEaCrWC34Gkh83SZZn2puBKff6Vocq8n9n3TuDttgue4LQMOVKG/s1600/DSCN4496.JPG" width="539" /></a>This is just a little beginning. Poor Marie Rose has a Peek-a-Boo Sacque and Bootees, but no Bonnet to match! And being a discriminating newborn, she no doubt wants her headwear to match her outfit. I still haven't met her, but I hope to soon. After all, it will be difficult to be Favorite Auntie if we don't get some bonding time in.</div>
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I am adapting another bonnet pattern to have the same stitch pattern as the Sacque and Bootees, and while this is relatively simple, it has its little challenges as well.</div>
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The real news is:</div>
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The Chiloquin Mani-Mitts are done! I finished the right mani-mitt and decided that I had not only done it a little differently than the left one, but I had done it better. So I had to take apart the left one, unravel almost half of it, and do it over! I think it fits better now. I was about to wrap them and send them on their way to Chiloquin, but guess what? A.C. from Chiloquin is on her way here. So much the better! I look forward to a hug and a visit. <br />
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How cute is that little pincushion in the upper right hand corner? It is vintage, and a homemade craft. Inside is a tin can of some sort, like tuna fish, maybe. The lace edging is soft, like cotton, not stiff and scratchy, like the yucky nylon stuff you find now. The bottom is covered with a round piece whip-stitched on by hand with neat, little stitches.<br />
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Well, now my teeny, tiny little announcement. I am going to post the patterns I adapt on their own page. (See the tab above.) In case anyone wants to give something they see here a try. They will, of course be free, since I am entirely amateur, have no test-knitters or test-crocheters, and have no experience writing a pattern. That being said, I will do my best, and welcome questions and critiques, deal?</div>
WendyBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07171619702536045694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357703899083007367.post-22687724457146928802014-03-15T12:48:00.000-04:002015-09-17T16:16:25.741-04:00Latest Projects, Part One<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0m0HxeaNwmUtTX1HJTJWrzchBX2Dgm4caL_z0VWegywQUzoJgeFS5Y-INZcxZVSl42aB-QOJP3pkywQAG8ZF6T_tVCI2Y99oMpHRzE3E4a3G_QDJGFuOMdMRWD0_Jyp9_5zOp2xNWn4n/s1600/DSCN4467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0m0HxeaNwmUtTX1HJTJWrzchBX2Dgm4caL_z0VWegywQUzoJgeFS5Y-INZcxZVSl42aB-QOJP3pkywQAG8ZF6T_tVCI2Y99oMpHRzE3E4a3G_QDJGFuOMdMRWD0_Jyp9_5zOp2xNWn4n/s1600/DSCN4467.JPG" width="400" /></a>I have already missed 3 birthdays in early March. Fortunately, everyone who knows and (presumably) loves me expects that. I think I am going to sit down and make a simple little pair of handwarmers (wristwarmers/fingerless mitts/fingerless gloves?).</div>
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Aside: Does anyone volunteer a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neologism" target="_blank">neologism</a> to make talking about this category of handwear easier? We should have a contest....I'm entering "Mani-Mitts". I just have to sell the idea on Ravelry to make pattern searches easier.)</blockquote>
So, one evening with a couple of hours of classic movie-watching ahead of me, I assess patterns on Ravelry, pick one that has the look I want, the weight of yarn I want to use, and beginning swatching the stitch pattern. Before I know it, the movie is over, I have ripped out a few swatches, perhaps chosen another pattern, perhaps changed my yarn, googled some technical question on crochet, watched a YouTube video on "how to.....", sketched out some kind of stitch diagram, convinced myself that the pattern-writer's math is right/wrong. Like Thomas Edison, I now know 200 materials that will not function as a light bulb filament, and I am sitting (figuratively) in the dark. For the next few days I obsess, refine what I want, and make and rip out what is slowly becoming a prototype of an item which no longer resembles any of the patterns I consulted (except vaguely), and I have done enough groundwork to re-invent the wheel. Side-tracked much?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEImJxLQJv1MKmd-24Yf5YnldtX38bQ4cGA9_MufaYzQv7JEj9iRibgJCRngysdP1VfSUYDGaiLILmRC-Y9QTuwrYOwW0qU2pd391yb_fD42s2VT6SSEBq3OotMdyQ7g6xzkeM9XoFQO4/s1600/DSCN4486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEImJxLQJv1MKmd-24Yf5YnldtX38bQ4cGA9_MufaYzQv7JEj9iRibgJCRngysdP1VfSUYDGaiLILmRC-Y9QTuwrYOwW0qU2pd391yb_fD42s2VT6SSEBq3OotMdyQ7g6xzkeM9XoFQO4/s1600/DSCN4486.JPG" width="400" /></a>This is what I ended up with. <em>One</em> (so far) Chiloquin Mani-Mitt. The giftee will know why I'm calling them Chiloquin. (Because that's where she's from and I like the name.)</div>
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As it stands now, I am about halfway done making the right mitt. That should only take me about 2 more hours, since I can just <em>do it</em>; all the thinking through is (mostly) done. <em>Whew</em>!<em> </em></div>
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But in all fairness, I want to acknowledge that my inspiration that got me started was <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcdRu8RQGBU" target="_blank">Wendy Cozby's Pattern</a>, which I found on Ravelry called <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/crochet-hand-wrist-warmer" target="_blank">Crochet Hand/Wrist Warmer</a>.</div>
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The yarn is a little more green. It is Lion Brand Wool-Ease in Seaspray.</div>
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And now, there are two more birthdays to catch up with. And the April birthdays to get started with.</div>
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(That yarn is also Lion Brand Wool-Ease.)</div>
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</a>On another note, this is the view out my kitchen window. Reminders of warmer weather. Swings in the back, lacrosse net for shooting practice (on the right), fire pit in the foreground.<br />
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The picket fence on the left encloses the neighbor's back yard around the corner from our house. The Y-shaped craggy tree at the end of the fence is an apple tree, one of the few left from when the neighbor's house was the only one around, and my yard was part of a saltwater farm apple orchard. (See pics of the farmhouse and barn and backyard in pics 11-13 of <a href="http://wendysbees.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter-wonderland.html" target="_blank">this post</a>.)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFNYlA6SuhaTAH1xVUOeYAdqOtStozFXwhJhoKEooMJ6HuzzngR1JXtouqEgfcNbf7QAS21WrUmSR44zWZYmCByXDjjteQxJewDYiGkHHoOKTP24m7R8Bapp7TO1hfSbo2f0qySo5DaD-/s1600/DSCN4466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFNYlA6SuhaTAH1xVUOeYAdqOtStozFXwhJhoKEooMJ6HuzzngR1JXtouqEgfcNbf7QAS21WrUmSR44zWZYmCByXDjjteQxJewDYiGkHHoOKTP24m7R8Bapp7TO1hfSbo2f0qySo5DaD-/s1600/DSCN4466.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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This view shows a closer look of the apple tree and behind it, those golden shrub-sticks looking all barren will be <em>forsythia!</em> I am reminded of this because I saw some forsythia blooming in the house of another blogger (in a warmer climate, obviously). A few days ago, I saw and heard the most brilliant cardinal perched in the branches of the forsythia. He's been singing his heart out the last few days, no doubt trying to find a lady love. If Spring <em>eeever</em> gets here, I will get a good pic of that forsythia stand and share it here, (about the time the rest of you have moved on to the bloom of your roses, hydrangea, peonies, etc.).</div>
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