And Not to Be Forgotten

This has been a full, very full holiday weekend. Thanks have been given amongst several circles of loved ones. The privilege of having parents, friends, children, spouses, and the new friends of children coming to our abundant table has been celebrated with joy and gratitude. And we are reminded of just how blessed we are.

Welcome Mat


There is a group of family members that we tend to not think of when we give thanks. Today, I just want to introduce you to some of them. There isn’t enough room on this blog to bring each one of these wonderful beings to life for you, but you’ll recognize all of them as they’ve existed in your life, past and present.

No doubt, you’ve guessed that I want to salute our pets. The quiet and not-so-quiet members of our clans. The “relative” who can be demanding, pesky, noisy. The “relative” that will always love you without reserve.

The friends who joined us for Thanksgiving Day brought their dog/daughter, Lucy, the Minpin. She was a rescue dog, obviously abused in her former life. She’s a bit high-strung, partly because of her breed, partly because of, well, only she knows what. And she is devoted to her “mom”. Attached at the hip, or rather, ankle, happy in her “mom’s” company. She is protective and loving of her persons; the persons who saved her and gave her the security she hadn‘t had before.



Lucy is very camera-shy so this blur
is the best we could do.
Wish you could see how sweet she is!

 It was fun watching her taking on the new environs of our house. She got the tour, was introduced to the first and second floors, fed and watered, and had her bed put on the floor near her “mom”. The house in which she lives is infested with cats as is ours. We figured it wouldn’t be an issue since she lives with cats and our puds are a touch cautious with dogs. They’d probably disappear for the day.

Looking Like Leo

Wrong, wrong, wrong, I was. Mickey, our red tom, and overall tough guy- or, so he thinks- decided that he needed to scope out the dangerous beast and guard what was his. Which is everything. He is not only his “mother’s” helper in all she does, he is the lead lion of the house and the other (female) cat, Sweetie. From inside the safety of the house, he’s ferocious when it comes to chasing rabbits, birds and woodchucks away. He has been known to tear through screens though when other tomcats come sniffing around. That’s a little more than our mighty Leo can stand.



It's hard work some days!

 He tried to scare Lucy. He puffed. He hissed. He stared. He even tried to chase her- from a safe distance. He was not succeeding. She wasn’t leaving. He took as victory that she moved away from his fireplace so that he could curl up in his chair. Our mighty warrior strutted the rest of the day.

But, just as Lucy is my friend’s love, Mickey is mine. My mother has hers: his name is Timmy. And he has her totally wrapped around his pretty paw. He cannot be disturbed when he is sleeping on her bed. He gets fed when he yells enough. The world revolves around Timmy. And he’s earned every bit of it. Timmy is my mom’s best buddy. He helps her with everything from paper filing (on the floor) to pulling thread (and tangling it) as she uses it to sew.

They are all entertaining, loving, and indispensable in our worlds. Our lives would not be as fulfilled without having our animals to care for. And having them to care for us.

So, once the chaos of the weekend has subsided, remember to raise a toast to your pet, your furry four-footed friend, your incomparable companion. Give thanks for the rest of your family!


Peace & Love



The Goose Patrol

    

For the last six-plus months, I’ve driven a particular road to work. I’d always admired one of the houses for the compact and lovely perennial floral beds. Because of this admiration, I’ve tended to notice several nice things along this road.



My Original Bird Sanctuary
This is where the ducks and geese
would settle in all seasons on Belmont Lake
 near my childhood home.



One of the sights had been a farm house, aged, yet dignified. The outbuildings and barns were somewhat dilapidated, but functional. The house was small as farmhouses go, but traditional in it’s appearance. The most interesting bit about this house was the resident birds.

The front yard, as it were, was owned by a rag-tag flock of geese. There were white ones and mixed colored ones. Most of the time, several of them would be nestled down and napping while a few remained at guard. If they were close to the edge of the road, it was not unusual to be hissed at in warning, “Back off! This is ours!”. I’ve come to think of them as the Goose Patrol. Across the road, the neighbors have a small man-made pond which was the next-favorite spot for the geese to be near. From what I could see, life looked good, for a goose.

I mentioned that there were resident birds. As I was driving home one afternoon, I noticed a very large bird perched on the hood of the car in the driveway. I stopped to get a picture of it, but couldn’t get close enough as the geese, gathered around this other bird as if at worship, darted toward me to chase me away. I was fairly sure that the large bird was a peacock, but couldn’t conceive of any reason a functioning farm would have a solo peacock. Eventually, I was able to get closer look which confirmed my identification. I still haven’t figured out the peacock angle, though.

Late in the spring, the house went up in flames, gutting it. None of the other buildings were damaged. But it was painful to see an old home destroyed, knowing that the mementos of a family’s history went with the structure. It was also discomfiting that a family and business was displaced. It was to be the end of seeing the stalwart Goose Patrol and Adoration Temple.

But, it wasn’t. Over the summer, the geese and their idol, the peacock, stayed put as the house was razed. They went about their business as if the house was still standing and their people were just an open door away. They slept, they nosed through the grasses for nibbles, they guarded their own, they worshipped the peacock, they swam in the pond.



A Twilight Swim
If you look closely, you might see the
Goose Patrol's eyes in the evening light.



I worried almost all summer: what is going to happen to them when the cold weather comes? Are they going to be fed? I doubted that they could fly away as their wings were most likely clipped.  They could’ve run away, I suppose, but, to where and whom? What would they do in the snow and cold? Strangely, they didn’t seem worried. Just me.

This week, a new foundation was started where the old house had been. The owners were rebuilding. They didn’t give up. And, neither did the geese.

The geese must’ve known something was amiss, yet, they couldn’t do anything about it. They had no option but to continue doing what they do. And, it worked out just fine. They’re not abandoned and their people will be back. Life goes on.

In an ideal world (an oxymoron, if ever there was one), staying the course will always bring a happy ending. In our real world, the endings are not always happy. But, I did take a lesson from our friends of the Goose Patrol, and that is:

When things start to go wrong, there isn’t any advantage to panicking. The chaos of the universe is going to do whatever it chooses to do. Control what you can and let the rest go.

(And, here, I have to apologize to Myriah: It took geese to teach me what you've been telling me for years! I'm such a silly...goose!)

With deadlines surrounding us in most avenues of our lives, it’s easy to give in to the panic. The upcoming holiday season only adds to the feelings of being overwhelmed.  Think you know where I’m going with this!

Control what you can and let the rest go! Remember to enjoy the journey along the way! The Goose Patrol did.

Traditions

It's an amazing phenomenon that occurs without any conscious attempts to make it happen. It's called a tradition.

You know what I mean: A child asks for a peanut butter cookie cake for their 10th birthday and, if they decide that they want the same thing the next year, it becomes the expectation that there will always be a peanut butter cookie cake every year for the child's birthday. Even once they're not a child anymore.

Traditions can add the excitement of anticipation or can be a dreaded repeat of times best forgotten. Every family has one and the other.



A Different Type of Goose

 In our home, we love having Thanksgiving multiple times each year within a 4-day span. We have a quiet actual Thanksgiving day, sometimes with my parents, sometimes alone. In the past, we've done the whole festival of food on Wednesdays as that was our day off of work and when we could celebrate with our daughters, my stepdaughters. And, to keep the expansion of the waistline on a steady, uninterrupted course, we'd celebrate with the girls' grandparents' family.

The number of meals consumed this year will remain the same, but, not as they've traditionally happened in the past years. As our day off of work is no longer Wednesday, we're doing the whole shebang on Friday with the daughters. We'll enjoy the company of my parents on Sunday instead, so that we'll be to have a leisurely day with which to close the weekend. As for Thanksgiving day, we're doing something completely different, as we're going to have a delightful dinner and football-and-wine day with two wonderful friends.

I'm looking forward to these changes. I'm looking forward to still being able to give thanks with my parents. Gathering the kids gets tougher every year as they strike out on their own, which makes those rare get-togethers even better. And being blessed with good and true friends is just as great a reason to celebrate as any of the others.

As for those events which you might hate having to deal with, keep this in mind: if it's okay to start new "traditions", it should be okay to abandon others which become a negative in your life. If you can step out to create new ways of doing things, so can the others on their own. It might seem selfish to pull away at times, but there comes a point in maturity where you need to treat yourself to more joy than pain. Pain will always find you. Joy, you often need to seek.

Give yourself permission to seek joy.

A tradition should be a comfort within your own world, not an obligation to inflict discomfort on yourself. So go and start a tradition for you and yours that celebrates only happiness and contentment. You've earned it!

                                                          

Speaking of traditions, a few of my good friends and I have established parties throughout the year and we were just treated to one of these last weekend. It was a celebration of Harvest.

Over the last 7 years, she and her hubby have had a wine party in November which is always fun. The reason I bring this up is to pay tribute to the influence that this event has had on my creating this blog and inspiring my personalized artwork.

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The Final Product
Painted from Mike's Photo
of the St. Lawrence Seaway

 The first set of personalized wine glasses that I made (and, I think, the best to date) were made for the 3 fantastic women (and me) who make up this particular circle of friends. If not for this new "tradition", the idea of creating this type of art may never have occurred. Of course, it also helps to have the type of friends who inspire you as well!

The courage to pursue the art and to attempt to market it has come from so many different sources. My husband, my parents, friends in my current life, as well as those in my "past" lives. It's taken a lot of gentle pushing to get this "bull" moving, but as last, she is.

Inspired by a tradition! Thank you all for the joy!

Music of Your Life

I am enamored of music in so many different forms. There are a few that I truly cannot tolerate for they are no more music than is a jackhammer. But, as for the rest of the forms of melodic movement, I can listen across that spectrum. And enjoy.

A sight caught on the way into work Tuesday

For the last six months, I've only been able to receive one station at work. While I've listened avidly to this particular station for many years and find it to be the finest classic rock forum in the area, I started to realize that it....was....driving....me....bonkers! I actually came to dislike a lot of the songs. My general sense of irritation when listening to Neil Young turned to an almost passionate hate. And, even if one loves Jimi Hendrix, he really doesn't do it for me at 10 in the morning.

I tried to listen to CDs, but found them to be limited also. I seem to need variety with my tunes, probably moreso than with any other part of my life. Sometimes I crave the adrenaline rush of a good bit of dance music or desire the meditative effects of classical strings. I long at times for the romantic rush of a love song and, at other times, wish for the drive from a solid Southern rock band.

A development in my musical tastes that I never would have anticipated is that I've fallen deeply in love with contemporary country music. It's reminiscent of the pop music of the '70's that I thrived on while growing up. It has drive in one song, and pure sweetness in another. It has grand orchestrations occasionally yet can bring laughter with certain differently styled pieces. It covers a lot of different bases in one genre.

And, while country music doesn't fulfill every niche of the musical world, it is nice to have the a bundle neatly wrapped and presented to you to enjoy. I still haven't quite figured out why, but I've noticed that this phenomenon of being a country music fan has overtaken several friends as well. Mike and I have joked that you know you've officially hit middle-age for certain when you start listening to country music and take up bowling. We did both when we turned 40. Hmmm...

By rearranging some items in my office, I was able to move my radio and have succeded in finding a country music station. Now I can listen to my "mix" of moods throughout the day comfortably.



Floating Across the Sky

 Of course, the real beauty of it is that now I can switch back to my classic rock station and enjoy stepping outside that comfortable mix much more now. Kind of sounds like the cycle of life, doesn't it?

Years of your youth are spent pushing the limits, trying all different types of things with full abandon, till the familiarity of the "different" thing bored you into moving onto the next new and exciting thing. The middle time of life is where the ease and convenience of day-to-day sameness is desired and enjoyment is found in the small undulations and changes. The rocking of your world is not a goal at this time.

Then you remember the years of youth when sameness had to be avoided at all costs and, while you have neither the wish nor energy to return to that intensity, you do wish for some change. That's when you gingerly (or perhaps boldly?) step out again.

And, that's a good thing. You should never be stuck listening to just one station in life. You should always explore the other frequencies. You should enjoy the music of life. Especially while you can still hear it!

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Froggy's Excitement!



Froggy and I are excited that we are very likely to reach our goal of putting our Product Board and Contact pages up by the end of this week! The pages will provide samples of products, prices and specials as well as details on how to place orders with us at Bronson Hill Arts. Remember that the holidays are approaching and we may be able to help you with a unique gift for the special people in your life. And, while time may be limited to do that personalized item for Christmas, there will be pre-made prints available for shipment. Plus, don't forget Valentine's Day will be following quickly behind, so start planning that one-of-a-kind gift soon!