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Archive for the ‘Gardens’ Category

Treasure the Moment!

Leo 7 monthAlicia's wonderlandThree preciesrecent workIF

There is no room for naivité in today’s world.  All I can do in light of the barrage of news we receive is to go on preserving and treasuring the world I’ve always known.  Indeed, my insular world may last only a moment—so I treasure each moment as a gift from God.

Beyond a series of moments on earth lies an eternity of joy for the Christian believer.  Meanwhile my precarious earth moments are filled with prayers, family, friends, a corgi, music, paintbrushes, knitting needles and yarn, spinning wheels, gardens indoors and out, poetry, books/books/books, antiques, junk, never ending batches of soap from our kitchen, and a whole lot more.

A common thread connects the moments: BEAUTY.  I know I’m not alone in determining to pursue and celebrate Beauty—and to TREASURE THE MOMENT!

Margaret Been, February 2015

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Baby D again

Again Sweet Mia

knitters

Daane Boys

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Gradually, almost imperceptibly the seasons turn.  Summer lingered, and thanks to plenty of moisture our woodland view remained green far longer than normal for a Southern Wisconsin Autumn.  For weeks I played make believe—drinking iced tea in the morning sun and making believe it was still, and always would be, Summer.   Then the mornings turned brisk, and I switched my sun and iced tea habit to the south side of our condo—rocking in a large pink rocker and absorbing every bit of warmth I could, to store against the inevitable onslaught of change.

Then the Autumn rains.  Now our courtyard is littered with sheddings from a large tree which is, as far as I can ascertain, an American Elm.  I love the leaf-littered grass, but realize that many condo owners do not.  Most folks around here do not hear my wild drummer, which forever beats to the soughing of wind and soothing of soggy leaves underfoot.  When the leaves dry, their crunching will delight my heart beyond anything words can express.

Soon the maintenance crew will vacuum the littered leaves.  I must be watchful, to preempt the crew and rake boundless amounts into my gardens for a protective buffer against winter.

Since our patio and patio garden open directly off the living room of our home, I fantasize that I’m still outdoors.  I open the patio door and inhale the pungent scent of Autumn rain, ripened and vastly different from the fragrance of April showers.  Still I pretend, pour myself an iced tea, close my eyes, and celebrate that stubborn essence of Summer which has always pervaded my innermost heart.

©Margaret L. Been, October 2014

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Leonardo Aguilar II:  I know I posted this hombre before, but I couldn’t resist posting more.  Little Leo will be effortlessly bi-lingual.  His Dad reads to him in Spanish, and his Mom (our granddaughter, Jamie) in English.  Maybe I can pick up a word or two of Spanish from our youngest great-grandson!

Little Senor 4

More Little Leo, in Great-Grammy’s Shawl:  I made this garment for a Teddy Bear, and then thought “Hey.  It would look even better on Leonardo II!”  He’s smiling as if he likes his colorful snuggy.

Little Senor 3

A Backyard Retreat:  My friend Karen is a Master-Gardener, and she has the greenest thumbs (and fingers) of anyone I’ve ever known.  Here are some photos she took of her beautiful sanctuary in Waukesha.  Karen laid yards of winding brick pathway for an enchanting, rustic touch.  Along with the gorgeous gardens to grace her neighborhood, Karen has a Little Library where anyone passing by can exchange books.  How great is that!

Karen 5        Karen 4

Karen 1

A Memorable Outing:  My friend Liz (pictured below) treated me to a day of antiquing, etc. just across our border—in Richmond, Illinois and the surrounding area.  The day was just right:  perfect weather, delightful browsing, good food, fun acquisitions, and best of all great company!

Liz 23    23 1 R

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A Time to Be Silly:  Our daughter Debbie took some of her grandchildren (our great-grandchildren—DUH!) on a surprise train ride and a vacation at a Wisconsin Dells water-park resort.  The Amtrak speeds by our road every day at approximately 4:20 p. m.  So on the day Deb was taking the children to the Dells Joe and I walked a few yards from our door, and waited at our road beside the Fire Station, so we could wave at the children as the train roared by.

Frequently I cannot resist being utterly silly where my children (of all ages!) are involved, so I had to do what I call a “Do Do Dee Dee Dance” with my derriere aimed at the passing train windows while Joe looked on very sedately from his 4-wheeler.  (Joe doesn’t do Do Do Dee Dee Dances.)  Meanwhile Debbie caught a blurry, impressionistic shot of the vaudeville act.

do do dee dee dance

And Our Private Heaven:  That long cold winter has morphed into luscious spring.  A month ago it looked like nothing was going to happen.  But now . . . !  The treasures in our patio garden are better than ever (I say that every year), and our patio is the perfect outdoor living room—with sun in the morning and shade for hot afternoons.

G 14 3    Garden June 1 - 2    Garden June 1 - 3    G 14 1

And SKY:  Those of you who have checked this site on occasion over the last five years know that I have a thing about sky.  As a child, I spent countless afternoons lying on the grass, watching clouds while searching for dragons, genies, and horses in the sky.

Now I recline on the berm outside our condo courtyard and watch clouds, with Baby Dylan (corgi) at my side.  That is our warmish day agenda.  On steaming summer days I flop on the patio lounge for afternoons of reading and cloud gazing, with ice tea ever handy.

Never has cloud gazing been more rewarding than it is here in the Lake Country, with the open expanse of park beyond our door.  We are surrounded by lakes, so there are nearly always clouds—ever changing, ever exciting to view.  I have years of cloud photos, enough to create a picture book.  (That’s a great idea, for next winter!)

Meanwhile, here are some recent gems, starting with a sunrise:

Sunrise 1  Sunday morning sky 2

Sunday morning sky  Sunday morning sky 3  Sunday morning sky 4

Yes, I’ll always have my head in the clouds.

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In closing, here is a confession of something that I never thought would happen.  (Daughter Laura, are you ready for this?)  My man is planning to get me a TABLET.  Yes, family, I’m finally taking the plunge.  Ever since tablets surfaced, I’ve said “No, I don’t want one”—and I meant it, at least I think I did.  But recently something snapped.  Now I look forward to having my very own tablet.

People with tablets appear to have thousands of pictures.  (Hyperbole intended, but perhaps it’s not hyperbole.)  Is this writer turning into an ex-writer, perhaps a “recovering” writer?  Maybe a picture is worth a thousand words.  🙂  Well, we’ll see about that.

Margaret L. Been, June 2014

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Brynn's art day 4

Featured here is our great-granddaughter, Brynn Daane, creating beautiful green art on one of our fun Art Days at the dining room table.  Green!  A wonderful color for art, foliage, gardens, cooked and buttered veggies, the Irish, frogs (I mean pond creatures—not French people), and Green Bay Packer uniforms.  Just as I do, Brynn loves to paint a green scene; in fact, she named her finished work “The Green Jungle”—and it’s a remarkable piece of abstract art!  BUT . . . isn’t there always a “but”?  “Green” can also mean “SICK”!

Many decades (actually I think it was eons) ago, in my “Live on the Edge Youth” I went by myself to our Wisconsin State Fair Park which was a short bus ride from our home in Wauwatosa.  Why did I do this?  I loved carnival rides, and there you have it.

After brushing up on the tame stuff, I went for the LOOP-O-PLANE.  (I think that’s sometimes called a HAMMER.)  On a tall vertical pole two units of swinging cages go back and forth, passing each other en route—higher/higher/higher until every passenger gets the delightful opportunity of hanging upside-down.  And, if that were not enough, each cage (containing two persons) has the joy of a suspended, upside-down pause in the altitude—at which juncture nearly everyone screams but some simply throw up.

After the LOOP-O-PLANE adventure, I made for that homebound bus as quickly as I could!  Perhaps the bus was green; I can’t recall.  But when I walked in our kitchen door, my mother looked aghast.  She said, “Margaret!  You are GREEN!  I don’t even want to recall what happened next!

So where are we going with this gruesome meander?  Right up to the current moment, when suddenly it seems that everything has to be GREEN!  By way of disclaimer, “Amen” to a sensible, balanced diet.  “Yes” to avoiding junky fast foods.  “Oui, oui” (now I am speaking of the French frogs) to recycling plastic bottles and tying the newspapers in bundles.  Those things are a DUH!  The DUH of the century—not even worth talking about, any more than I would go on about painting my toenails or blowing my nose.

Although I may someday be told that I “should”, I will not give a tiddelly hoot about whether or not my teeth might fall out from commercial toothpaste.  Nor will I fester in a frenzy of angst over the possibility that my skin will decay due to using some economically priced body lotion purchased at Walmart.  And, believe it or not, I still have a long, swishy, fairly respectable mane after 10 decades of commercial shampoos.

GREEN has gone too far.  Constantly I hear people say we should all get back to exclusively using only those good things God put on the earth.  Have these proponents of GREEN forgotten that the earth fell with Adam?  Well it did, and consequently there are lots of things in and on the earth that are not good—things like poison ivy and bad apples which make one really turn GREEN.

The GREENIES are rarely consistent!  Poppies grow in the earth; yet oxymoronically enough many GREEN addicts are obsessed with the idea that anyone (even happy, arthritic octogenarians) seriously needing a poppy-derivative prescription drug will end up selling pills on the street!

Some of the “Anti-Prescription Drug” ilk think it would be far better to drink booze and smoke pot!  Never mind that booze and cannabis will undoubtely kill incentive and ruin relationships—while by relieving debilitating pain, a well-monitored prescription serves to enhance one’s activity level and quality of life!

I am very sick (LOOP-O-PLANE level sick!) of hearing the word “GREEN”, and seeing it splashed all over the place wherever I go!  I am sick of hearing talk about what we should or should not put on our skin, or into our stomachs!  Like fake sugar.  Artificial sugar was developed/discovered/whatever, in the mid-nineteenth century, but it took awhile to catch on.  My dear father used fake sugar from the inception of its popularity—maybe back in the 1960s (?)  Dad remained healthy for three more decades till the end of his life, fake sugar notwithstanding.  But then, he only lived to be 102—so what do I know?

My friend, Karen, and I agree that what really sticks in our craw is how so many young folks are sanctimoniously (self-righteously!) preaching those very things that we grew up automatically doing.  But we didn’t make a big deal of it.  We ate a balanced (home cooked, at that) diet.  Yes we drank sugary sodas.  Yes we ate a plethora of sweets.  Our mothers baked them, and we gobbled them up after school before going out to play in 15 degree weather—and build snow forts until the dinner bell rang.

Then we piled indoors, draped our snow-packed wool wraps over the steam radiators—and thankfully sat down to eat a reasonable serving of war-rationed meat or casserole, plenty of veggies (home-preserved), a bowl of home-canned fruit, and Mom’s homemade bread or dinner rolls followed by cake, pie, or cookies.  It’s not too amazing that many of us are living happily ever after, and still knowing precisely how to take care of ourselves.  DUH!

Regarding the logical process of recycling, during the Great Depression it was common for women to unravel old sweaters, and re-knit whatever yarn was still usable into mittens or scarves.  We saved every string, every paper bag, every box, every glass bottle and jar, and every old piece of clothing for some form of a new life.  DUH again!

I have no complaint with anyone choosing to be frugal (in fact, I applaud that choice) but I simply cannot stand the supercilious attitude which pompously assumes “We are the only ones who ever thought of recycling, and we are going to save the world from all the stupid people who refuse to go around yelling, ‘GREEN!’ ”

Would these same arrogantly Green pontificators be able to march stalwartly through a Depression and two Great Wars like my parents did, or would they choke on their meager portion of lettuce while crying because they could no longer afford to update their electronic “devices”?

Give me a break!!!  Can’t we go back to that rational mentality where “GREEN” means a child’s painting, perennials popping up in spring, a dish of green beans (and they don’t have to be raw!!!), an Irish logos, a Packer uniform, or a terrifying trip on the LOOP-O-PLANE?  I am about to scream:  “RED LIGHT!  NO MORE GREEN!”

Margaret L. Been, 2013

P. S.  The problem in America and around the world is not what we put into, or on, our bodies.  It is what we put into, and on, our minds!!!

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Home of the Foxy Gentleman

I’m a year ’round lover of life, but the months from now through September tip the scale for me.  The above photo (titled “Home of the Foxy Gentleman” after the guy seated amongst the foxgloves, who fooled that stupid Jemina Puddleduck into letting him supervise her nest) shows one of many reasons why I love the seasons at hand.  Some other reasons are:  a deep tan on my body, soft breezes soughing, long days, short nights, and ice cream.  Of course ice cream can be had in all seasons, but it’s a lot more fun when it’s consumed outdoors!  (My opinion.)

Another BIG REASON for the tipped scale from now through Autumn is that Joe and I are now (a bit tardily this year) entering the RUMMAGE SEASON.  I think I hear clucking, snorting, and sneering from the crowd who believes that “downsizing” (HOW I DETEST THAT WORD!!!) is some kind of a spiritual exercise designated to win extra points.  Some can “downsize” graciously, and for valid reasons—while others say the word while rolling their eyes and aiming sanctimonius glances at Yours Truly!  Those “downsizers” are certain that I’m not in line for any points at all!  And I’m certain these misguided folks are missing out on the fun!!!  🙂

Having recently moved from a house (actually 2 houses) up north to a four-room condo Down Under (under Highway 10, not the Equator) Joe and I have found even more incentive to go rummaging.  We have MORE TIME without grass to mow, snow to blow, and garbage to escort to the town dump.  Bring on the YARD SALE signs and we are off and running.

So at the expense of clucks, snorts, and sneers (which fortunately I can’t really hear because I’m blogging on a computer not a phone) here is a picture of today’s bounty culled from a nearby small city—namely Waukesha, Wisconsin:

Rummage 5-24

Oh my!  A clump of birch trees which we’ll never need to water; a charming, mint condition McCoy pottery planter (“the real McCoy”, not one of those knock-offs); 6 ruby red Depression Glass mugs and 7 matching lunch plates with a measuring cup like those my Mother had; 2 pairs of sweet, girly toddler boots which should fit our great-granddaughter Mia next winter; a (tipped on its side) pewter covered bowl and 2 more ruby red mugs in front of the boots; a copper plated teakettle; a gorgeous orchid plant which—like the birch clump—I will never need to water; all flanked by a humungous acrylic painting (very beautiful!) supporting a vintage necklace with fake diamonds and pearls.  (At least I’m assuming the gems are fake.  Wow, if they are not!)

Behind the Yard Sale bounty is always the best part of the season—our live garden.  You are looking at creeping phlox, mertensia, and other treasures among the ubiquitous mint which will always assure me of having something green to look at.  From now through Autumn, that is.

Remember, we can’t take any of this with us!  That’s why we’re enjoying it now!!!  🙂

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After several weeks of being tried and tested by drought, our patio garden is experiencing a new life.  I had watered it through the crisis, but was ever aware of the danger of a dried up well—so my watering became scanty as the dry days lingered.

Although once again getting dry, we’ve been refreshed—and I’m able to make a good early morning round with the hose.  I trimmed plants that had bloomed and shriveled, and these are coming back at the base.  The black-eyed Susans have popped up, and they are thriving.  Roses are experiencing an encore of blooms, and so are the foxgloves and anenome. 

What a picture of GRACE!  A little water, and the garden is responding as if it had never suffered those dry weeks.

Here are some shots of our other gardens:  ↑ ↓

The “mum” plants are sprouting tiny flower buds, preparing for their autumn glory.  It all goes so fast!  Our wayward, unholy nation does not deserve to have an autumn of gentle, healing rain—but I pray for mercy, and MORE RAIN! 

Whether or not our All-Wise God blesses us with rain, I constantly pray that our country will wake up and return to the Living Lord and His standard of righteousness!  There is forgiveness for us, and our nation could be revived—like our gardens!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

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All the arguments against Creationism prove ridiculous and fall apart, when we focus on the basic tenet of our Judeo-Christian Worldview:  that we humans are made in the image of God, a Creative God!

Yes, the higher mammals have intelligence.  Yes, the higher mammals have forms of communication.  Yes, the higher mammals are capable of great emotion—even that of unconditional love.  I gaze into my Pembroke Welsh corgi’s eyes, and see undying adoration.  My long life has been happily filled to abundance with dogs, and every one has reflected a love and loyalty that many humans can only hope to possess.  

But what specific thing can humans do, that no higher mammal will ever manage?  Made in the image of a Creative God, we can create.  Whereas God created Heaven and earth out of nothing, we must have materials at hand with which to create.  But we do create.

As far as I know, dolphins have never composed operas or symphonies.  Clever and entertaining as they are, primates do not paint masterpieces or design bridges.  My brilliant Pembroke Welsh corgi has yet to bake a cake or stir up an omelette.

On that, I rest my case!  🙂

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Note One:  I posted this entry a couple of weeks ago, on my “God’s Word Is True” blog ( http://hiswordistrue.wordpress.com/ ), and decided to post it here as well for two reasons:

1)  Some Northern Reflections’ readers don’t know the the “God’s Word . . . .” blog even exists and so this entry would be new to those readers;

2)  The weather has been so gorgeous that I’ve only been indoors to get meals and change loads of laundry these days.  The gardens and patio have captured my heart.  But I did want to update Northern Reflections, since Mother’s Day is a week behind us.  Anyway, every day is Mother’s Day for moms!  🙂 

Note Two:  Here are some photos taken this week around (and in) our condo home in Nashotah:

(I sit on our patio for hours—sun bathing, reading,  and enjoying our Southwestern decor.)  ↑

(Our foxgloves are reminiscent of Beatrix Potter’s Jemima Puddleduck (silly creature!) and the “Foxy Gentleman” who was sneakily seated amongst the foxgloves.) ↑

(Who can resist sticking a derelict chair in a garden? ↑ ↓)

And last but not least—along with reading and gardening—I’m knitting more of those world famous Potato Chip Scarves!  ↓  This photo has been posted at the risk of non-knitters hurling rotten tomatoes and cabbages my way. 

Yes, I know you may be weary of the potato chip scarves!  Good thing I’m hiding behind my computer!  🙂 

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