Mother's Day

Today was Mother's Day. It was a perfect day. My daughters surprised me by taking me to lunch at a seafood restaurant about an hour's drive from here in a quaint little riverfront town. The kind of southern restaurant that sits on the river and serves sweet tea and hot cornbread in little iron skillets and tin plates for the appetizers. The food was good and the service was great. They were prepared for a busy Mother's Day, seeing all the servers in their matching polo shirts.

Afterwards, my granddaughters wanted to buy some potting soil and seeds, so we made a trip to Home Depot. They miss the garden, so my daughter told them that they could grow a few things in clay pots. They wanted strawberries and heirloom tomatoes and marigolds and even bought some watermelon seeds (the small variety), so we will see how it goes. I was excited that the girls, ages 5, 9 and 11, would show an interest in growing things. They are outdoorsy kids and would rather walk around the block instead of staying inside. 

Say Hello to Spring

Is it April already? I am glad to say say good bye to March. 

I went to the park on Saturday to enjoy the weather.

It was still a bit chilly, but the sun was shining 

and the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom.

Morning Rituals

          I listen to your footsteps in the early morning

turning on the kitchen faucet

and starting the coffee

I listen as you unlock the door

and walk to the end of the driveway

to pick up the morning newspaper

I listen to the clock radio

as another Top 40 record plays

and as the DJ tells another silly joke

I pull the blanket over me

through the weather report

and the latest news headlines

You open the bedroom door, softly

to see if I am awake

I rub the sleep from my eyes

and reach for my robe

which had fallen to the floor

and wrap it close around me

You pour my morning coffee

as I hunt for my reading glasses

You chatter; I am quiet

the early bird and the night owl

 We are familiar with each other's habits
especially in the early morning hours

(c) 2005 Anita M. Ashworth

(I wrote this several years ago)

January Blessings

I celebrated another birthday this month. I am now 39 with 20 years experience, as I like to tell people. Although next year, when I change decades, I will have to confess to my true age.

Still, as many people say, every day above ground is a good day.

I have much to be thankful for. My two daughters. My six grandchildren. My son-in-laws who are good and decent men.

 Have a blessed day!

                                 Five of my six grandchildren. This was taken on my birthday.

Footnotes in History

I recently discovered new facts on my husband's side of the family. I was able to back to the 1700's and found out that one of his ancestors was baptized in the Old St. Paul's Church in Baltimore. The gravestone belongs to Jane Stansbury, the daughter of Thomas Stansbury. She married John Lemmon, who is a direct ancestor of my late husband. Genealogy is much like being a history detective and connecting the dots.

Another interesting story that I discovered in my brother-in-law's family tree is that one of his ancestors immigrated from North Carolina to Tennessee in the 1780's to one of the Cumberland settlements near Nashville. John Donelson brought a large party down the Cumberland and built Fort Nashborough (now Nashville). As a child we took a field trip to this fort and what was intriguing to me was that John Donelson's daughter, Rachel, became the wife of Andrew Jackson. "Andy" Jackson was a well-known frontiersman at the time and became famous for the infamous "Trail of Tears" legislation that sent the five Eastern civilized tribes to Indian territory (now Oklahoma).  Sadly, Rachel died and never lived in the White House. Their marriage was actually quite a scandal back then because Rachel was previously married and her divorce was questioned by Jackson's enemies. 

On Being Ordinary

A friend shared a link to an article on her Facebook page regarding the younger generation and how they have been brought up to think that they are "special." It was an interesting perspective and although I don't (generally) like generalizations, there was a lot of truth in the article.

Let's face it, most of us are ordinary. Special is nice, but when I was growing up, there were very few special kids. You either had to be sent to the Principal's office on a regular basis or  be the Teacher's Pet year after year to claim that title. There were the random kids whose brief claim to fame may have been doing something that the rest of us were in awe of (vacation, unusual pet, BIG Christmas present, etc.) They were special for that reason. But the rest of us, oh well, we rode the school bus, we fought with our siblings, we ate cereal and watched Saturday morning cartoons...in other words, our childhoods were pretty similar and ordinary.

We grew up to have ordinary lives; get jobs or go to college, pay bills, fix the car, have children. Along the way we faced our disappointments and frustrations. Perhaps life wasn't always that easy. Some of my friends went through divorces; some of us lost our spouses and buried parents and other family members. The things that we all go through. It doesn't make us special; it makes us ordinary, like the mortal human beings that we are.

I think the problem with thinking that we are special is that it breeds discontentment. To maintain our "special" title we may compare ourselves to others and see success through rose-colored glasses. We will never be skinny enough, or rich enough, or our house will never be big enough, our careers never fulfilling enough because we think that ordinary is so, well, ordinary and we don't want to be ordinary.

I know that I am "special" to a few people, my grandchildren, but I realize that as they grow older, my "specialness" may wear off like a fake tattoo, as they grow up and pursue their own lives. But, hopefully, I will maintain my "specialness" to them as much as they are special to me.

I believe that we are all special in God's eyes, but he has many, many children, so waving my hands or jumping up or down is not going to make a big difference. He knows I'm there. He knows you are there. And that's enough.

So make the best out of your ordinary life. I am.

Merry Christmas

Wishing everyone a blessed and joyous Christmas!

Little Tree

I decorated sparingly for Christmas, with a small, "Blue Christmas Tree"

 perched in the corner of my living room. 

But I did put out my snow globes and Christmas cards and Nativity. 

With working full-time and trying to do it all, I have come to the realization

that I can't do it all, so I must choose and prioritize.

 I choose to do things that bring me joy

during the Christmas season

Last week I had free tickets to take my two granddaughters to see

"The Nutcracker." It's not something that we do every year. This past Sunday I helped bake cookies and make food gifts with my daughter at her house. The girls watched Christmas movies and nibbled on the goodies and kept their pajamas on all day. The girls

decorated their Gingerbread House and wanted to eat it as soon as it was set!

It was a lot of fun!

Today I helped deliver a few food baskets to needy families. 

To me, this is what Christmas is about.

However, I haven't been completely lazy, mailing out my Christmas cards on time and having wrapped most of my presents by now.

The Stars Up Above

Last Saturday evening a friend and I drove up to the mountain to the Planetarium to listen to a presentation of "The Star of Bethlehem", a historical and astrological view of the times during the birth of our Savior. My friend is more versed in Astronomy, but I am a complete novice and haven't been to a planetarium since I was a child.

It was quite an interesting program, with Biblical passages and bits and pieces of historical events that aligned with the birth of Jesus.

After the program we ventured outside to look at the stars through the telescopes that the astronomers guided us to and pointed out the Constellations visible in the clear, dark sky. Names like Orion and Andromeda. It was quite chilly and I was glad to have worn my warmer coat. Below the mountain we could see the city lights and above, the sky was clear for a winter's night, stars shining brightly.

We walked down the darkened path towards my car, flashlight in hand, having gained new knowledge about Nebulas and galaxies and light years. I am anxious to go back and take my grandchildren.

God's Masterpiece

When God created the earth he took out his blue crayon and colored the sky. He then found another shade of blue and colored the ocean. He found a brilliant yellow and called it the sun. Black became night. He colored the earth brown. The many shades of green became the grass and the trees. He used the deep purples and violets and pinks and colored the flowers. By now he had used almost all of the crayons, but there were some crayons left; the burnt oranges, the rust reds, the copper browns. So God had a brilliant idea. He would also create different seasons. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. And with the remaining colors God created his masterpiece, Fall.

Fall is my favorite time of the year. The colors are peaking right now, so I try to take advantage of my days off and explore our local nature trails. We also made a side trip to a local Pumpkin Patch. I took these pictures over the last two weekends. 

The Nail

Have you ever had those days that seemed so out of kilter, when everything seems to go wrong? Yesterday was one of those days. Before I walked out of the door in the morning I heard my phone ring. I didn't answer it in time and had to listen to my messages. Normally, I do not listen to my messages before I go to work, but this one was important. A dear, elderly friend passed away yesterday morning and her husband called to give me the sad news.

Work was keeping me busy and we played phone tag a couple of times before I was able to reach him and offer my condolences.

At lunchtime one of my coworkers informed me that I had a flat tire. I pushed the thought aside because sometimes I can get panicky when things break down, especially since I don't have a man around the house and son-in-laws are usually at work and not available to help in a mother-in-law crisis. And then again, I work with a bunch of women and a busy day is hardly the right time to try to change a tire when there is a lobby full of members waiting to be seen. I adopted my Scarlett O'Hara attitude, "I won't think about it right now, for tomorrow is another day," (also known as "procrastination").

 Finally, close to closing time I called my insurance company, and yes, I had roadside service, so they promptly sent a man to change my spare tire.

 It was a nail.

The man noticed that my other tire was in need of service, and since my engine light had started coming on, I arranged to take my car to Firestone the next morning.

It was a good thing that I did. Apparently, when I had my oil changed  last week something wasn't sealed all the way (I know nothing about cars, so please forgive my vagueness) and the mechanic told me that I had no oil! Engine light...red flag. My daughter told me that I was lucky.

Yes, all because of that dumb nail.

Oh, and to top it off I had two phone calls waiting for me at work regarding a possible compromise on my debit card, which turned out to be false.

I am thankful for that nail.

On our way to Birmingham this past Sunday. It was a beautiful day.

The End of Summer

Labor Day weekend seems to officially mark the end of summer, although the children have been in school for more than a month. My younger daughter and her husband have a camper, so I was thrilled to spend the day at the lake with my grandchildren. For a treat we went to an old-fashioned ice cream parlor. The town itself is right out of a vintage magazine.

The lake was quiet and peaceful. The children had fun riding on the golf cart with their "Paw Paw."

I came home that night and slept well after all the fresh air.

Coincidence or God's Way of Remaining Anonymous

This is a picture of my grandparents, Karl and Anna, in 1923. I never knew my grandfather. He died from cancer a few years after the war, long before I was born. "Oma" lived for another 40 years. I remember a story that my mother told me about my grandmother, a story that could be called a coincidence, but not if you believe in something more. My mother had a picture of herself hanging on her bedroom wall. One night it was storming so badly that the thunderstorm caused the picture to fall and break on the floor. It woke her up. The next day my mother received a phone call from Germany that Oma had passed away that morning. The time difference between Germany and the United States is around six hours. It was around the same time that my mother was awakened by the storm and the fallen picture. She called me in Texas to give me the sad news. Whether this was a coincidence or God's way of remaining anonymous, I will never forget that story.