Quote of the Week


"A mind troubled by doubt cannot focus on the course to victory."
~ Arthur Golden ~








Image by: Mike Baird

Fabulous Flamenco

Okay, I realize this doesn't count as an actual "Holly writing something" blog post, but you guys HAVE to see this!

I'm heavily into research for a writing project. Part of my research required me to investigate the art of flamenco dance. I've been to a couple of performances in my life, but hadn't really taken the time to study up on the art at all. Through my research I came across a particular dancer, considered by many to have been the best of all time: Carmen Amaya (1913-1963). For the fun of it, I decided to check YouTube to see if I could view any of her performances. This video is only a little over 2 minutes, and...
It. Is. AMAZING!

(For a little added inspiration for my fellow "shorties" out there, Carmen was barely 5' tall.)

Enjoy!

The Phone Call


I’d like to apologize for my lack of “real” blogging over the past month. I know I’ve had periods in the past where my blogging has been a bit lame, but I don’t believe I’ve ever gone this long with only “Quote of the Month” posts to share.

I do have an excuse, though. It’s a good one. And it goes like this:

One morning in early October our phone rang at 5:50 a.m. My hubby’s alarm went off at the same time, so in our confusion we didn’t realize the phone was ringing and missed the call. Dialing into our voicemail we heard the following message:

“Hi Holly & Chris, this is Ruth-Mom. I’m calling to see if Holly can come over to let the dog out this morning?”

Huh?

“By the way, I’m having chest pain and we just called 9-1-1, so we’re expecting an ambulance any time now.”

Really, mom? REALLY?! That’s how you let us know you’re having a HEART ATTACK!

Long story short, my mom ended up spending 21 days in the hospital.

She didn’t enjoy it.

She had a catheterization, some lovely complications, a triple bypass, some more lovely complications including them sticking a tube up her nose for nutritional purposes.


She didn’t enjoy that either.

Finally, she was given the A-ok to go…

To Rehab.

She didn’t enjoy that either.

She was in rehab for a little over a week when she tried to escape. Seems they wanted to move her to a new room. She didn’t want to move to a new room. She wanted to go home. They insisted she stay. When I got there I found her in her new room eating dinner in a huff. She told me she was so mad she walked “ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE HALL!” This was a record.

She stayed the night, but scammed negotiated her release within two days.

She’s finally home. Tired but happier.

Needless to say, my writing life (& especially my blogging life!) has suffered. I’m going to try really hard to get back into my regular ol’ blogging groove, but with the holidays coming, I know I'm in for a real challenge. Right now, I wish I was one of those really cool bloggers who plans ahead and writes posts months in advance. Alas, *sigh*, that’s not me. Yet!





Image by: Ju-x

Quote of the Week



"Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were."

~ Chérie Carter-Scott ~






Image by: Vauvau

5 Advantages of Being a Cougar


Well, as my front lawn clearly BROADCASTS (thanks to my darling hubby!) I’m celebrating my 50th birthday today! Some people feel weird about birthdays, especially milestones, but I love my birthday! The only one I truly recall having anxiety over was when I turned 18. I freaked out because I knew the world now considered me an adult but I felt like I didn’t know anything!


Now I know I don’t know anything, but I realize nobody else does either. Plus, I think I’m gonna sound way cool saying things like, “Yes, well, speaking from half a century of experience here…” and “Scuze me? Listen honey, I’ve been around for half a century, so I’m pretty sure I know a bit more about....” Stuff like that.

In addition to becoming half a century today, you may be surprised to know I’m also a…cougar. That’s right. I’m older than my husband. Now some people might not think that’s something to brag about either. But there are some definite advantages to being older than your husband. These are probably some of the very things Demi Moore thought about when she first married Ashton Kutcher.

Five Advantages of Being a Cougar

1. Your Status: There’s the obvious status boost you attain among your peers as a renowned cougar. A woman able to capture the love of a younger man. Added bonus: Arm candy! He looks fabulous on my arm at a party!

2. His Status: On the flip side, your man gets to brag about he’s ignited the love and passion of an older woman. Oooh, la, la!

3. Pancakes: It’s a well-known fact that women are better at, um, making pancakes when they’re older, and men are better at making pancakes when they’re younger. So, now your pancake making will be perfectly aligned.

4. Arguments: If you figure out you’re losing an argument, you can always fall back on the line, “Honey, thanks for sharing your thoughts. But, let’s face it. I’ve got much more life experience than you have. So let’s just defer to me on this little matter, hm?”

And my personal favorite…

5. Driving: You know those rare occasions when you’re actually the one driving and your hubby is in the passenger seat? And he’s providing you with all sorts of unnecessary and unwanted driving advice? At those times I just turn to him and say, “Sweetheart, you just sit there and look good. I've been driving A LOT longer than you have, so I’ll take it from here.”

Postscript: Chris yelling from the background, “Knock it off! You’re ONLY 17 months older than I am!”

Shhhhh!

Five Tips for Marital Bliss


Today is my hubby’s and my 26th Wedding Anniversary! I was going to write a short post sharing some of the wisdom I’ve gained on maintaining marital bliss for over a quarter of a century, but I stumbled upon this video and I cannot even begin to compete with the hysterical advice of Selma and Kenny! Married 72 years, they created this short video sharing their five tips for a happy marriage with their about-to-be-married grandson.

I PROMISE you this video is worth the entire four minutes to watch. But even if you can only hang around for two, do it. I was cracking up! And now, I give you…

Selma & Kenny



Quote of the Week



"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever."

~ Mohandas K. Gandhi ~






Image by JaseCurtis


Do’s & Don’ts for Parents of a College Freshman



I know for some parents, this commercial rings true. But we just sent our oldest off to start her third year of college last weekend, and as happens every year since she was a freshman, I’m feeling a little blue.

Of course, I’m not nearly as bad as I was her first year away. Freshman year was the WORST! Oh mama, was I ever a basket case! Older wiser parents assured me it would get better, but I didn’t believe them. How could this gaping hole in my heart ever go away? Surely, I would never be happy again.

But, believe it or not, those older, wiser parents were right. It did get better. Eventually. So, I figured maybe I’d share a few of my suggested “DO’s” and “DON’Ts” for those parents who have just, or are about to, deposit their firstborn into the college life and are now trying to adjust to daily life without them. Sooo, here goes…

DO appreciate how clean and lovely her bedroom looks and REMAINS when she’s not currently living in it.

DON’T dwell on how much you miss him. Get out. Have lunch with friends. Try something new. Laugh.

DO come up with little personal touches to let her know you’re thinking about her. Send random videos of the family dog doing something that always makes her smile. Figure out creative long-distance ways to share inside family jokes. Send care packages or good old-fashioned letters.

DON’T text him every five minutes to see how things are going. Try to hold off until at least every ten.

DO be prepared to participate in in-depth conversations at 12:30 a.m. on the one night you’re so exhausted you were planning to go to bed early. Even though she’s having fun on her new college adventure, there will still be those moments when she needs your comfort or advice—and she’ll need it NOW.

And whatever you do, DON’T listen to Owl City’s Vanilla Twilight! I know this is supposed to be a simple love song, but I it fits perfectly for a parent/child relationship as well. I know it’s tempting to click that play button down there, but step away from the blog. (If you simply can’t resist, however, make sure you have some tissues nearby.)


You will survive!

Your Unrecognized Awesomeness

So, my lovely author and blogging e-friend (yes, I just made that word up!) Heidi Willis recently wrote a post about this book titled, You Are Good at Things: A Checklist by Andy Selsberg. The author makes readers aware that we are all most likely suffering from “unrecognized awesomeness”! For example, perhaps…

* You have the uncanny ability to always notice when someone has gotten a new haircut.
* You can make the last half-ounce of toothpaste last for a month.
* You are an expert at remote controlling, or…
* You're a wizard at resisting the urge to eat all the cheese right after grating it.

According to this quirky book’s description, it offers “a celebration of all your secret skills and unheralded abilities. It calls attention to the way you're able to give your kids names that will never appear on key chains at gift shops, and cheers your talent for wrapping presents using very little tape. In your own way, you're a master, and the world should know it. Because let's face it: You are good at things!”

I was cracking up at the things Heidi and her commenters acknowledged they were good at, and thought to myself, “What the heck, my blog friends and I are good at stuff, too.”

So I’m totally ripping off her blog post topic!

For the record, I’d like to give Heidi full credit for the idea and encourage you all to visit her blog: And Also...because there's always something else to say. I truly enjoy her posts! And while I’m at it, I’ll give her terrific book another plug. Some Kind of Normal is a great read. If you haven’t bought it already, get it—it’s wonderful!

And now, let’s all share some things we’re good at. I’ll go first:

*  I’m good at stealing other people’s blog ideas and using them on my blog!

*  I’m good at reading manuals.

*  I’m gifted at not dusting.

*   I’m great at making dinners that cause the smoke alarm to go off.

*   I have a talent for staying up way too late every night. 


*   I’m good at having two-way conversations with my dog.

*   I’m good at interrupting people’s stories to ask questions and get more details.

*   I’m terrific at freaking out in crisis situations.

*   I’m amazingly good at procrastinating.

*   I’m wonderful at embarrassing my kids in public.

*   I’m good at making character voices when reading a story aloud.

My daughter told me I had to write this one:
*  I’m great at getting overly emotional about animals getting injured on film and in real life.

Okay, your turn!




Operation: Hijacking the Camera


Some of you may have read my post lamenting the fact that my hubby Chris bought a new camera and hasn't been sharing.

Well….

He went out of town! So I snagged it and started a little experimenting. I’ve only got a few days before soccer season starts in order to figure out how to take amazing pics. The new camera is a Sony SLT-A65V, and it’s actually the new-and-improved version of my old camera. So I’m already familiar with some of the buttons and functions. But there are quite a few new options that I’d never seen before. Like the Sweep Panorama!

To use it, you have to pan the camera in one direction as it snaps continuous shots of your scene, creating one panoramic image. I tried it first just holding the camera in my hands, but the end result was too blurry. So I attached the camera to our tripod and tried again.




Using my favorite free photo editing software, Picasa, I zoomed in and cropped it to see how clear the picture really was, and I was amazed!



Pretty crisp, right?


Now the most important function for me to be familiar with is taking continuous action shots. Unfortunately, I was home alone looking out on a very inactive backyard.


Hmmmm…where could I find a cooperative action model. Someone willing to work with me…




Okay, Oreo wasn’t exactly willing. But he said he’d humor me as long as he was paid well with treats.



I already knew this camera would take better action shots than my old one because the manual says it can record 10 images per second! I took Oreo into the backyard with me and told him to stay


COME!


(My daughter Ashleigh says he looks like a bunny here.)


Ooooh, the agony of running...





Now, this camera has a tracking feature I can activate. It automatically tracks the nearest subject to the screen. I decided to try it out, figuring the focus would be even sharper. Okay, Oreo. Come!








Yuck! They're so blurry! I wonder if I'm doing something wrong? I’ll have to investigate this more later.


Meanwhile, I moved on to testing the differences between the AUTO, AUTO+ and MACRO settings. When I think MACRO I think flowers. So I took three pictures, one with each setting, of my purple petunias (which despite our massive heat wave and my brown thumb, have continued to flourish). I honestly could not find any real difference in picture quality between them. 


AUTO


AUTO+



MACRO



But I found a HUGE difference in the quality of images I cropped. Here's the original shot I took of my mother-in-law's day lily:


And here it is zoomed in and cropped. Check out the awesome detail! It must be the higher pixels.


This will come in handy when I have to take shots further away from the action and I need to crop them later.


Overall, I’d say Operation: Hijacking the Camera has been a success. Saturday is the big day. The first soccer scrimmage of the season. Wish me luck with MY new camera! Bwa, ha, ha!

All Photographs © Holly Bowne

Motorcycle Mama


I’m not ready for this and I feel an eye twitch coming on.

It’s our first summer with both kids having jobs. When our oldest got her first job, we established a 50-50 rule. Fifty percent of each paycheck would be saved for college, the other 50% was theirs to divide between spending, personal savings goals and charity.

On a recent sunny afternoon, our newly employed, just-turned-18-yr.-old son Joshua casually said, “Guess what I’m going to use my 50% for, mom?”

“What?” I asked, only partially listening.

“A motorcycle!”

“What?!” He had my full attention now. “Noooooo, Josh! You’re---you---you can’t… You’re only eighteen!” I sputtered.

He arched a brow.

“You haven’t been driving long enough.”

He raised his other brow.

“It’s too dangerous.” I shook my head. “You could have an accident and die!”

“Mom,” he said calmly. “You’ve always said, if your number is up, it’s up. So if I’m meant to die in a motorcycle accident, then that’s the way it will be.”

AAAARRRRGHHH! Why…WHY do our children throw our own words back in our faces this way!

“All right. That does it. I’m telling!” I stormed out of the room in search of his father.

“Chris!” I said, finding him working on his laptop in the family room. “Do you know what your son just told me?”  And I informed him of Joshua’s completely scary proposal.

I should have known better.

I finished speaking and noticed an eerie light glowing behind his green eyes. Turning back to his laptop, his fingers flew over the keyboard for a moment. Then without a word, he picked up the computer and went to find Josh, me trailing in his wake.

“Hey buddy?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“Mom just told me what you want to do.” Chris sat the laptop down in front of Josh. “I just found this motorcycle safety class we can take together next month.”

“What?!” I shrieked over Joshua’s “Cool!”

“You’re helping him?”

What is it about boys and motorcycles? Chris didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish! Within days they’d both purchased helmets, gloves and Josh bought some sort of armored motorcycle jacket to wear.



Here is Chris (not Josh!) wearing his helmet in order to get used to it while they watched T.V. together. Ugh!



A couple of weekends ago, they finished the intense safety course. Enduring 90 to 100-degree temps wearing full regalia, they put in twenty-four hours of skills training and testing plus an hour-long written exam requiring a minimum score of 80% to pass.

I must confess, I was proud when I learned that with each phase of training, people dropped or got knocked out, but both my boys made it through. (There was even a guy who’d been riding motorcycles for over 30 years who failed the course!)

But now…NOW they’ve each obtained their official motorcycle licenses, and Josh is using his free time everyday to scour the web for used motorcycles.

Yesterday, I observed him as he sat hunched over the laptop. “So Josh, do you think you could give the same passion and intensity to--”

“Nope!” He answered without looking up from the screen.

“How did you know what I was gonna say?”

“Because I know you, mom!”

“Well, I’m just thinking if you gave that same intensity to your homework—”

“Mooooom!”

 “Gee, it’s only college. Your future.  Your life. Nothing compared to a motorcycle.” I grumbled.

“Yup.” He grinned, still not looking at me.

Brat.

I definitely feel an eye twitch coming on.




Motorcycle Image by: Time_Anchor

Quote of the Week


"Rose colored glasses are never made in bifocals. Nobody wants to read the small print in dreams."

~ Ann Landers ~



Image by: rnjtc1

Up, Up & Away



My hubby Chris had a business trip to Germany not too long ago. On the day he was leaving, he studied the clock and informed me, “It’s about 5:30 p.m. now. We need to make it to the airport by 8:15 p.m. at the latest. That should give us just enough time to get there and back before I have to leave.”

“Get where?” I asked.

“Howell.”

“Howell?! Why do you want to drive all the way to Howell right now?” (Just for the record, the city of Howell is a good 45-minute drive from our house.)

“To get pictures of the hot air balloons taking off,” he said with a grin.

The city of Howell hosts a Hot Air Balloonfest every summer. We’ve only gone once before, but it was pretty amazing. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, doubtfully.

“Yup,” he said, gathering the camera equipment.

You see, Chris got a new camera--er, I mean I got a new camera. It’s a Sony SLT-A65 and it ROCKS!! I keep saying “I” in an attempt to eventually psych him into thinking that it really is MY camera.

Up until he bought this particular one, every other camera he’s bought over the years has been as a gift for me. Unfortunately, I admit it; I’ve never been particularly good at sharing them. I think Chris just got tired of my selfishness, so he went out and bought himself this new-and-WAY-improved version of mine. It’s so phenomenal!


We both love taking photographs! While I’m not a professional, I enjoy playing one on vacations and at my kids’ sporting events. And if I’m being totally honest, I also enjoy the ecstatic appreciation I get from fellow team parents whenever I share the awesome shots I’ve managed to get of their kids in action at said sporting events.

I’ve been so busy though, I haven’t had a chance to really try out the new camera. Chris, however, has been playing around with it for months now. He promised he’d share as we journeyed to the Balloonfest.



He didn’t.



Probably getting even with me for all those times I wouldn’t share (even though he claims that wasn’t the case.) Says he simply got caught up in taking photographs. Like this awesome shot!



And this…


Check out the super clarity he captured using the…er, MY 200mm zoom lens!


 My son’s final high school soccer season starts in another month. If I don’t get my hands on that camera soon, and learn how to use it properly, Chris will be taking all the cool action shots during the games. Then he'll be getting all my coveted accolades from grateful soccer parents. Call me a pouty baby if you want, but I cannot have this!

Somehow, some way--even if I must resort to subliminal messages while he sleeps--that new camera will be mine. Stay tuned. Bwa, ha, ha!


Photographs © Chris (Sigh. Not Holly. Sigh even bigger.) Bowne 


Quote of the Week


"A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral."

~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry ~



Image by: Snowpeak

Quote of the Week


“If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it; every arrow that flies feels
the attraction of earth.”

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~



College Kids, Carousing & Curfews, Oh My!


My hubby Chris and I attended a graduation party last weekend. We found ourselves in a conversation with another parent about the readjustment process we all go through when our college kids return home for the summer. Amid our discussion about the delights of once again witnessing freshly messed-up bedrooms, tripping over even more pairs of shoes, etc., the woman we were speaking with commented, “One thing that’s hard is enforcing the curfew, isn’t it? Especially since they’re used to doing their own thing up at school.”

Chris and I exchanged glances of surprise.

I wrote a post a few years back on the whole curfew topic. But for those of you who weren’t following the ol’ blog back then, let me sum up the way Chris and I have chosen to handle curfews for our older teens (as in 17-yrs. old) and up:

We don’t set any.

We’re awful parents, right? Ha, ha!

Instead of issuing a curfew directive, we would have a discussion with our teen before they went out somewhere for the evening. We’d talk about what they had going on the next day, what time they felt they needed to be up in the morning, and how much sleep they thought they needed. Then we’d ask them to give us a time they felt was reasonable for returning that night.

Our oldest daughter Ashleigh hated this! “Just give me a time!” she’d wail.

But Chris and I have always felt our job as parents of teens is one of preparation. We’re preparing our kids for full-blown adulthood.  Truly, it didn’t take long for Ashleigh to get the hang of it. And by the time she started her freshman year of college, she was totally responsible: Going to bed by 9:00 p.m. every night in order to be fresh and alert for her classes the following day.

Yeah, okay. Just kidding.

Seriously though, I think it’s easy to fall into a pattern of dictating rules to our kids, just as we did when they were younger and we had all the control. But really, isn’t our job as parents a strategic process of relinquishing that control. And hopefully, by guiding our kids to think things through the way we have, those skills will be well established once they’re on their own.

I’m not saying it’s always easy! I’m sure both our kids will testify that we’re not always successful at sticking to the “guidance only” part. But we recognize that in the long run, they need to think for themselves. Our kids are now 17 and 20, and so far neither of them has ever let us down in terms of setting a time to be home, and honoring that time.

As I was sharing the “curfew conversation” with my oldest, home from her sophomore year of college, I was further surprised when she told me she actually has friends--plural--the same age she is, whose parents still dictate curfews. This seems so strange to me!  For the majority of the year, their kid could be out at all hours of the night, and they wouldn’t have a clue. But now that they’re back home, this 20-yr. old needs to be in the house by 11:00 p.m.?

So now I’m curious. I would love to hear thoughts on this from other parents. Is my philosophy on this totally off base? And if there are any parents of teens & twenties who do enforce a curfew, I’d love it if you shared your reasoning behind it.

What say you, fellow parents?









Quote of the Week


"Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is
felt rather than seen."

~ Leonardo da Vinci ~





Image by: JulieJordanScott

Mother's Day Rant


Yes, I know it’s closer to Father’s Day than Mother’s Day now, but due to a tight deadline on a writing project, as typically happens, my blogging life suffered. Sorry about that!

I’ve wanted to share my Mother’s Day “rant” since the adventure occurred on that fateful Sunday in May. But I’ve only now had time to write it down.

If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you’ll know I’ve ranted about Mother's Day before. I’m a soccer mom. And because the soccer gurus somehow decreed it the perfect day (& weekend) to run soccer tournaments, I’ve rarely celebrated Mother’s Day with my family or my own mom on the actual day.

But this year was different. Miracle of miracles we had no tournaments! So, my sister Taia, daughter Ashleigh and I carted an East Indian feast, purchased from a restaurant near my sister’s home, to the home of my parents on Mother’s Day. Instead of a quick phone call from the soccer field, I was going to get to spend hours chatting and enjoying a nice dinner with Mom.  Or so I thought.

Let me preface the rest of this story with a little background. Years ago, Ashleigh and I attended an East Indian wedding with my parents. The reception featured a fabulous buffet of East Indian cuisine. Now, Ashleigh has a nut allergy. So, she did as we’d taught her to do: She asked if there were any nuts or nut oils in any of the dishes. We always told her, “Don’t ask just anyone—make sure it’s the chef or someone in charge who really knows.”

Well, long story short:

She did.

They lied.

We ended up in the emergency room.

You may think it’s impossible for a panicked 5-ft.-tall mom to leap over a drugstore counter in a maniacal rage and begin throttling the teenage sales clerk for asking stupid questions instead of rushing the sale on the bottle of Benadryl she was trying to purchase on the way to the emergency room.

But you’d be wrong.

Needless to say, from that day forward Ashleigh was leery of eating Indian food. A few years passed, and in order to help her overcome her fear, we took her to a local Indian restaurant which served a delicious nut-free dish called Butter Chicken. She liked it! And we rejoiced her fear had been overcome.

Fast forward to Mother’s Day. When placing our order, Taia made certain there was a nice, safe serving of Butter Chicken in there for Ashleigh.

As we all dug into the sumptuous spread, Ashleigh took a bite of her Butter Chicken. “This is really spicy!”

“It shouldn’t be,” Taia said.

 “It’s making my tongue burn,” Ashleigh said.

I waved away her concerns as I swallowed a bite of delicious Lamb Koorma. “Just eat more naan (bread) with it.”

After about 15 minutes, I noticed Ashleigh hadn’t eaten much, so I sampled the Butter Chicken. I took a second bite. I tasted nuts.

Within seconds Taia was on the phone with the restaurant. “Yes, we make that with cashews,” someone told her over the phone.

Okay, time for my rant:

For crying out loud! These people are in the FOOD Industry! Why aren’t nuts mentioned in the description of the dish?! My Lamb Koorma description specifically mentioned it contained nuts. Not so with the Butter Chicken! And why isn’t Butter Chicken made the same way everywhere?

Do people think nut allergies are just some excuse people give because they don’t like the taste of nuts? That if they just tried something, maybe they’d like it? We’re talking life and death here, people!

Once again, we ended up racing to the emergency room. Only this time, as a special Mother’s Day bonus, I got to pull off on the side of the road in order to stab my poor, crying 20-year-old baby girl with her dreaded EpiPen®.

Good times.

And don’t even get me started on how we drove to the nearest hospital where Ashleigh’s symptoms were recorded on a napkin and it then took over an hour for the 107-year-old emergency room doctor to make her debut, asking insightful questions such as, “Sooooooo would you like to go home now, sweetie?”

You may think a panicked 5-ft.-tall mom can’t dive over a hospital bed in a maniacal rage and begin throttling a sweet, grandmotherly emergency room doctor for asking a bunch of stupid questions instead of doing her job.

But you’d be wrong.

Oh all right. I didn’t do that. But I thought about it. Instead I left the room to avoid doing or saying something I shouldn’t. Taia accompanied me. She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Maybe you should go back in there?”

“Why?”

“This might make a good blog post.”

“Good point.”

And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go call a restaurant about some nuts.




Image by: IainBuchanan

Quote of the Week


"Tis easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows along like a song;
But the man worthwhile is the one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong."
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~




Image by: Xanetia

Love A Tree Day

Image by: Horia Varlan

I'm sad.

We said final farewells to some old friends today.

Today is Love A Tree Day, according to one of the "Unusual Holidays" calendars I have on my iPhone. And ironically, we awoke to workmen in our neighbor's yard, grinding away the last remnants of two of the most BEAUTIFUL willow trees ever.

I know my husband is not as sorry to see them go as I am, since he was the one who ended up clearing much of their "weeping" debris from our yard year round. But since I work from home, I would often take my laptop out onto the deck on nice days and look up from my writing to see their great wispy branches waving in the breeze, hear the ancient creak as their limbs rubbed together.

There isn't a symphony that compares. *Sigh* But they're gone now. I guess they had become a danger. Ready to drop their heavy branches on unsuspecting passersby or small animals. I know it was probably the right thing to do, but it's depressing! It looks so...bald now!

Here is my three-picture story commemorating the event. I sort of missed getting a true first shot, but in that first picture, imagine the "naked" tree to the right looking just as full and glorious as the one beside it and you'll see the difference.

If you're lucky enough to have some nice, big ol' mature trees in your yard. Go give 'em a hug! And have a happy Love A Tree Day.




Quote of the Week

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?"

~ Robert H. Schuller ~






Image by: Geishaboy500