Good Days

A friend and I had a wonderful picnic at Whiskey Creek yesterday. We got out early and were in the water by 10 a.m.

We sat our folding chairs in the lake, our quilt in the shade and pretty tablecloth and picnic basket on the closest table.

The water was perfect. A goose mistook one of my toes as part of the picnic and took a little nibble!
He quickly learned, if one is going to nibble this woman's toes, champagne and chocolate covered strawberries need to be part of the package.

My picnic partner, Kate, is a very magical woman. The conversation flowed easily from the numinous to the mundane and back to.  The weather was perfect. Kayaks would pass now and then and the conversation and laughing would reach us near the beach.

We shared cucumber sandwiches which were uber yummy if I say so myself. (secret recipe: 12 grain bread, whipped cream cheese mixed with tarragon, chives and dill. Cucumber peeled and thinly sliced, sprinkled with sea salt and white pepper.  Spread both slices of bread with cheese mix layer cucumbers three or four layers thick. I left the crust on but at home or when I am feeling really poopoopedoo I toss the crust outside for the crows).

We shared a raspberry-kiwi salad in strawberry yogurt, walnuts, pears and lemon water.

A family of geese came by, the adults closely guarding the babies. Kate shared a story with me of witnessing a pod of orcas swimming with her boat in the San Juan Islands. They, too, swam in a formation that protected the young.

Kate dropped me back at my house around 2 or 2:30. I took a nice shower and layed on my bed with a new novel and promptly fell asleep. Naps are even yummier than cucumber sandwiches.

Thursday, June 19, 2014, was another good day.

Family Is Good For The Heart

When I sit in a room, filled with my grandchildren, children and their spouses, I am overwhelmed by the sense of contentment and joy.


I wish I could tell you all the times one granddaughter or another would wrap her arms around me and whisper, "I love you, Nana!" Or sat next to me on the couch, held my hand with a nice squeeze. Or snuck me a spoonful of cookie dough! The pure joy it is to have my grandson hug me and tell me he can't wait for his baby to meet me.

As usual, many conversations were carried on with sprinkles of movie quotes here and there, though the quotes are leaning toward contemporary movies and less from 1980's and 90's flicks. I don't remember hearing, "Good news! Your friend is only mostly dead!" Not once! But I did hear, "And Darth Vader was all WHAAAAAA?"


Late at night, I could lay in bed and hear whispered girl-talk floating down the hall. Whispers would then drop to barely audible but I could hear tiptoeing on the hardwood floors, the silverware drawer slide open ever-so-slow. I couldn't hear the cookie dough container pop open but the complete silence told me the chocolate chip midnight raid was a success!

No one would have ever known. Dough container was back in fridge in morning, no dough in sleeping bags or on upper lips. There were the spoons in the sink, though, trails of cookie dough and licks on them.  It was obvious the caper was a success and the spoons might have been their calling card; a way of saying, "thanks for getting us the cookie dough, Nana! It was yummy!"


I am thankful for each and every one of the members of my family. If Karma was a big thing in my life, I would swear that in a past life I must have been a national hero of some kind. My rewards in this life are abundant! My life is truly blessed. My cup runneth over for I am a rich, rich, rich woman.

A Studio!

Of my every own!!!

Can you imagine?

I've been working with clay a lot lately, which means my dining room table is a mess!  The guilt is overwhelming if I don't clean up everything when I leave the room for another activity. Okay, I don't really feel quilty by not cleaning up, but it did sound mature and responsible, didn't it?

My grandson just moved out and his old room, our den, has just been sitting empty. It has built in shelves and drawers and great northern light. I ripped out the old carpet and padding today. There is only one crack in the concrete floor, very narrow, easy-peasy fix!

I am going to scrub the couple of little spots where the padding glue actually held; two little spots no wider than 1/2 inch. Exciting Part: I am going to stain the floor. My sister suggested creating a labyrinth  on the floor which I am seriously considering .

When the floor is done I will move the desk from the garage back in for my writing station. Yeah, I can type away all night without disturbing the old guy and some of my best ideas are at 2 a.m.

When I left home to get married my dad built a desk in my old closet for fly tying. It was pretty cool! I'm thinking I may attempt to build myself a little art desk in the closet, with shelves for my brushes and pastels and paper and clay and paint and, and, and....I've got goosebumps.

A studio! My very own!

Now, I have to go research concrete floor prep, floor painting and labyrinths!

Oh, yeah, and the door to the studio is a Tardis my granddaughters and I just finished painting. What can be a more magical place to create than in a Tardis. You know they are bigger on the inside than the outside!

If you'd like, I'll lend you one of my brushes and some bright colors and you can paint me happy!!!