• I went shopping the other week with a couple of friends.  Actually, we were on a “junk” hunt, hitting as many consignment stores as we had the time for. 
  We did make a stop at Home Goods, which is a favorite of all of us.  Regardless that the stuff they sell is new, you never know what you might find in there.  I am always on the lookout for garden stuff this time of year, and have developed a special interest in mermaids and seahorses, but I was not prepared for HER.  As I was walking down the aisle, there she was, on display – a four foot plus concrete mermaid.  She reclined across the display gazing off into the distance, her perky concrete breasts pointed skyward, her arm around a smiling concrete dolphin.  I stopped short.  She was beautiful, and just the sort of thing I would love to bring home to my garden.  I assumed that something that big and  beautiful must be exorbitantly expensive, but still I had to know.  Her price tag was barely visible, but not accessible without  1) moving her or 2) climbing  over/on her to read the tag.  I tried # 1 to no avail.  She would not budge – not even a little.  This should have been a sign for me to just walk away, but still, I had to know.
  I summoned my two friends, and the 3 of us donning our  old
  lady reading glasses tried several positions, clamoring over and straddling the mermaid in an attempt to read the price tag.  Finally one of my friends  got in a position to read the tag.  She read it, re-read it, and announced the price.  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  The price was VERY reasonable, and definitely something I could afford.  My next thought was I wished I didn’t know this information.  The three of us stood there discussing how we would move her out of the store, and into the back of the car. I am not sure what we were thinking, as the three of us combined couldn’t even budge her enough to read the price ticket, but I guess love is blind.  Especially cheap love.  As we were having our discussion, one of the clerks who had overheard us came over to put the pin in our balloon.  “Good luck if  you’re planning to move that thing” she said.  “I saw them bringing her in here, and it took quite a few burly men quite a while to put her there”
  “Not to mention that she would probably ruin your suspension
  and flatten your tires”.   Well, there it was. No wonder she
  was so cheap!  We checked out of Home Goods and moved on mermaidless. 
   
• The very next day
  while up in Maine I spied a happy concrete cherub riding a concrete seahorse.
  Only 200 pounds and just the right size to be buckled into the back seat of the car. The statue looks great in my garden!

Sweet May. Everything is new and fresh – the greenest green. Hearing the birds at 4:30 AM makes me smile. Feeling the sunshine today was wonderful!  Happy Hour begins now. Cheers! 

But who can resist this loveable face?

When my kids were small I would drape a long sheer tablecloth over the dining room table, and crawl under it with my morning tea. It was enough so that I could keep an eye on them, but still enjoy a few minutes of peace and quiet, unnoticed. I remember the caution I took to be very quiet so as not to blow my cover. Now, thirty years later, I have to start sneaking around again. No, not children – it’s the cats! While I am flattered that they are so fond of me, sometimes I just need a bit of space. Trips to the loo have become a group outing.  If I so much as shift position on the couch, they think it’s time to eat. Indy seems to think my tablet is his throne, and has no qualms about sitting on it while I am typing. Sam headbuts me while I am working in the kitchen, and will try to jump on the butcher block if I leave so much as a Kalamata olive there. A couple of problems:

 1) Their hearing is much better than my kids’ ever was.  I swear they sleep with their radar on. 

 2) I am not anywhere near agile enough to crawl under the dining room table with a hot beverage.

On the up side, I do have the option of leaving them home alone with a bowl of kibble. Ah, the price we pay for being loved. ❤❤❤

Greeting for a rainy Monday morning… Enjoy your day. And may all your weeds be wildflowers!

A lot of people in NH woke up to a nasty surprise this morning.  Snow.  It’s the 14th of May for crying out loud,  and Mother’s Day to boot! Despite this unfortunate spite from mother nature, I am forging on. Began the day having a nice breakfast with Alex in spite of the cold, driving rain. Later Steve and I went for a drive to visit some nurseries – tromping around in the rain, buying plantings for a warmer day.  Of course, as a member of the seasonal police, I was on high alert during our ride – taking note of all the faux pas in people’s yards. Anyone who has an orange Christmas wreath on their door on Mother’s Day, TAKE IT DOWN! It requires minimal effort!  I saw several of these today, along with window boxes full of poinsettias, and one very sad squishy pumpkin on a doorstep. Red bows, reindeer, drippy lights hanging off the roof – got to go! I know it’s cold, but the expiration date has passed on Christmas  decorations. Came home, poured myself a cabernet ( my cold weather wine) and defiantly hung my new plant. Enough already.

This is my very first post on my new blog site. Still learning how to navigate, so please bear with me. This is actually an old piece written several years ago, but it is my very favorite. Kind of a Mother’s Day thought.

 So here goes……

It’s a midsummer night. The heat of the day has settled into a haze over the meadow. The soothing drone of a baseball game plays a lullaby in the background – barbecue grills and lawn mowers have gone to sleep for the day.  I step onto the porch for a moment to reflect, and somewhere in the darkness I hear children laughing and running in the yard across the way. It takes a moment to focus, but then I see them. Fireflies. Dancing aross the meadow in a silent light show. Dozens of fireflies. The children chase them – jars open, laughing in the midsummer night. I close my eyes. Suddenly three decades have slipped away.  I am on another porch in another time, and the children chasing fireflies are mine. Their laughter echos in my head as if it were yesterday, and for an instant I am back there calling them in to the house for bed. Where did the time go, and how did those children disappear so quickly? I open my eyes and head back to the baseball game.  My children have meadows of their own now in another place and time. The memory of who they were makes me smile. And the magic of the fireflies still holds them near.