How To Be The Son In A Life

This is my friend, Coke, as we all have called him most of his life.  His real name is Constantine.  He says he was almost in the third grade before he could write his name without errors.  You might have that problem, too, if you had to write Constantine Lee Hagepanos over and over with those big thick pencils.

We've been friends for a long while now.  We met in college; he was a photographer for the University's newspaper.  He captured one of my favorite images one morning during the dark ages of in-person student registration.  It's only one of the thousands of images he's captured with his camera. He probably doesn't even remember this one but it's special to me.  It was the start of a years long friendship.  In many ways our lives have paralleled.  We could be brother and sister from different mothers based on similar life experiences. Heck, we even have the same middle name!

Coke has always marched to the beat of his own drum and many times that's not been the easiest march.  He's a people rescuer.  He will do anything for someone that he likes, or admires, or loves, or just because he's encountered them and they need help that he can give.  Sometimes his willingness to help another has been at personal cost to himself.  Sometimes he's invested in someone who really didn't deserve all his help.  Sometimes they proved unworthy of his gift.  But, more often than not, anyone who has encountered Coke becomes better for his investment.  He is one of the best friends a person could have.

A recipient who is worthy of Coke's investment is his mother, Callie.  She is a wonderful spirit of quiet wit and wisdom.  She has not had an easy life.  She missed out on much of the joy one should expect from those around them. And as she has grown older, with significant health issues, Coke has been torn as to how to help her.  He has brothers and sisters, but as is often the case with family dynamics, it's generally one child who shoulders the burden of the many decisions of caring for and about an aging parent. Not that the other children couldn't or wouldn't take care of the parent, but generally there is one who the parent will allow to care for them.  For Callie, that child is Coke.

To wit, Coke, who had a very interesting life in Germany working as an Ex-pat for a major banking concern, decided to come home and move in with Callie.  Not that he felt he had to, but because he genuinely felt it to be his calling. He invested major personal wealth into clearing out and rehabbing the small bungalow he grew up in so life for Callie would be easier. He has centered his life on taking care of her physical needs.

Yesterday, peacefully, Callie shed this world of ours and has gone on to The Next Place.  Coke's tour of duty is now complete.  He has done for his mother what he has done for so many of us-- he has seen her safely home.

For any who have had the experience of taking care of a parent as the world around them slips slowly away, we understand what it can take out of a person.  But, I have never heard Coke utter more than a few casual complaints about it all.  Mostly, he just viewed it as a duty and necessity and shouldered on.

He always seems to find a sense of purpose or contentment with a day.  And now that Callie's part in his life is complete, I know he will find even more definition as a beloved Pop to his small grandson. He will continue his work as mentor and guardian for his nephew.  He will always be the father who loves his daughter through all the phases of her life.  And I will hold hope, thanks to Coke's example with his mom, that his daughter will understand what love in action looks like when Coke's time of need unfolds.  He will always be to the rest of us, one of the best friends we have.

I know Callie is at peace.  I hope for the same for my friend.  Because he deserves it.  He's earned it. And if I can ever return the favor of being his friend in anyway, I hope I can do so as well as he has always been a friend to me.

I know one thing for certain; there are thousands of sons in this world of ours.  But there are a rare few, like Coke, who work to be the sun in a parent's life.  A Son who views it as his duty, to return to that parent the gift of life and caring.  A son who instinctively knows how to be the joy that a parent deserves from life-- especially when the joy goes missing.



Coke is my Friend; he's become Michael's Friend.  He is Callie's Son.  And he is often the Sun in our lives especially during those times when the darkness is closing in and we are completely afraid that we'll never see the light again.

May Callie go forth shining.  And may all of us who call him friend be there to help Coke continue to find the joy in life now that this chapter closes and he looks forward to what comes next.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Coke's Friend

July 12 Another One

So any way you look at it, today is July 12 and that means I've seen this date dawn exactly 60 times.  60!  And that means that I went from 1 to 60 in a blink of an eye.

If you're younger than I am, you probably won't believe that it goes that quickly, but well, you'll find out.  Really.  It's just a question of time. For some reason, this birthday has really made me think.  60; it sounds so significant.  So old!  When I'm driving along and people look over at me, they're seeing an older woman, maybe even an old woman driving that car.  When I'm in the check out line at the grocery, it's an old woman who is chatting them up.  And on a good day, maybe they don't view me as old; maybe they appreciate me as wise and worldly.  I'm hoping that I'm thought of as that more than old, but hey, I've learned I can't control the thoughts of others.

60 years means I know that I need to be grateful because any day above the grass line is a day full of potential.  And I also realize the truth in the expression, "Do not grieve growing old; it's a privilege denied to many." So, I'm going to really dig down until I figure out what this turning to the start of my Sixth Decade actually means to me, why it seems so large and well, odd.  How can I actually be 60 when in my mind where I live and it's sunny all the time, I'm 28 years old?!

Life has changed so much in so many ways, not the least of it how we acknowledge birthdays.  This year, I received only five cards.  They're lined up on my mantle so I can see the bright colors and feel warm and happy.  Five doesn't sound like many, which it really isn't compared to previous years.  However, I got close to 100 wishes of various sorts and flavors on my Facebook page and my phone and in texts and email.  It's been an absolute blast reading and answering all of them.  Spending time with all of those who want me to remember what I mean to them.  It's a beautiful thing.  Truly.

This past year has been a difficult one in so many ways.  The loss of Rory & Fiona, those beloved Scotties of mine, still shakes me and can leave me sad unexpectedly.  Out of nowhere, they'll show up in my thoughts and I'm not yet at the place where those visits simply bring memories and not the jarrring hole their leaving has left behind. We had months of worrying about Evan during his third tour in the Middle East, but the gift this birthday is he's home state-side once again.

People have moved away, or have moved to Their Next Place.  I miss them, thinking of them often. Yet, I know this birthday means another year where I'm waiting to see who comes into my life to bring new and different experiences.

I have to recognize that if  I hadn't turned 60, I wouldn't be here to wonder about what good things are coming my way; what new people I'm going to meet; what experiences I'll have, so I suppose I'd better just celebrate this day as quite an accomplishment.  And that's what I'm going to do.

Hey, July 12...I've seen you 60 times!  And once again, thank the God & Goddess I have shared my day with my beloved, Michael.  We had meals out and conversation.  We sat in the companionable quiet when words eluded us as we spun our thoughts.  We took a nap listening to the rain drum on the windows. And, I am blessed.



So happy birthday to us July 12.  This is what 60 looks like on me.  And, I'm still a work in progress.

Namaste Till Next Time,
Holly aka She who is older than she once was but not as old as she'll one day be...

Ghostly Visits

There are many issues to confirm that I'm growing older.  One came in the mail the other day.  Tucked inside with the renewal form for my driver's license was a very 'helpful' pamphlet entitled, "Tips for The Mature Driver."  Kill me now.

Another also replays many nights; I hate it.  This inability to collapse into sleep without tossing and turning.  The worst is-- I fall asleep very quickly only to have my eyes flap open like a window shade snaps up without warning.

Last night was one of those.  It seemed it would go peacefully, seemed being the operative world.  I ran through the Distance Reiki list of all those animals and Humans who have requested Reiki to assist with their needs.  It's how I start and end my days.  At night, doing this work makes me relax and drift off.  Morpheus is waiting with arms extended, but some nights he plays me false and just as I enter his embrace, he closes his arms and evaporates.  Men...

But last night, tossing in bed as I watched the clock creep to 2AM, it felt different and a bit unsettling,  because I was visited by another circumstance that proves I've been alive for awhile now.  Last night I was visited by a chorus of faces that I have loved and who have died.  Unbidden they came.  Some I had not actively thought of in a long time; others are those few who I never not think on.

At first, I found all of them gathered in my consciousness more than a bit disconcerting.  I fretted about why they were all there of a sudden.  Did it mean something?  Was there a purpose?  What are you trying to tell me?!

Not my Dad, nor my Aunt Kat, nor any of my immediate family were there.  Instead, these were all dear friends.  People who had played a pivotal role, either in terms of my growth as a Real Human Being, or had died at points in my life to help me understand what it means to suffer loss.  Died and helped me experience what it means to lose someone I cared about and what life feels like after.

I slowly began to relax, realizing that they simply wished to visit to confirm that death doesn't change the truth of things.  Connections are still there.  Attachment still remains.  I sent Reiki blessings to each of them and thanked them for coming.  I confirmed that they are always with me and what a joy it is to see them again. They returned the same sentiments.

And, with spiritual hugs completed, I fell asleep. 

This morning, I still ponder why I would have had a party with Ghosts from my past...no answers yet.  I wonder how the brain works that it would conjure them unbidden like that.  Can a brain actually do that?  Or, is it that love is bigger than our brains and it can manifest all on its own, in images that we can recognize and understand?  No answers for these questions...

But, in the light of day, I'm able to realize that it is a blessing to have been reminded of all those who I have lived long enough to have loved and lost.  I suppose along with confirmation that I am aging, I am also slowly becoming a Real Human Being.  There is always a silver lining.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Loves Them, Still

The Art of The Apology

I think one of the most difficult arts to learn, is the art of the sincere apology.  I'd be a liar if I told you that it's easy to learn, easy to do, and that you'll really look forward to the time(s) when you'll have to practice this hard-earned skill.

Because it's so hard to learn, most of us avoid learning how to do it well for a very long time.  Hell, some people never learn to do it.  For them, it will always be your failing if you took their meaning the wrong way, or you are just too sensitive or whatever...  But, it's not you; it's them.  And, don't worry, they'll have their turn at having their feelings hurt or dismissed...it will happen and hopefully, they'll start to figure it out.

For now though, I want to consider how one acquires the skill of the true apology.  And, honestly I don't know the answer.  I suppose that one day you stop letting your Ego run the show.  You stop listening to it when it says, "Really, what's wrong with them? They need to just get over it.  It's stupid how they feel, and I won't support them in this craziness!"  Yep, Ego keeps you from being able to reach out and humble yourself when an apology is truly required.

The fact is, it's not necessary for you to be able to understand or relate to why an individual has been hurt by anything you've said or done.  You simply need to accept that they feel this way.  And then the next step...

...is being humbled enough to deal with the uncomfortable, itchy feeling you get when you are clearly aware you've hurt someone and need to say the words, "I'm truly sorry if I hurt you."

Once you've done it a few times, while it doesn't come easier, it seems to come quicker.  And, those precious moments that can save a relationship aren't squandered.  When a true apology comes sooner rather than later, you get the chance to start over.

And here's the place where I've finally arrived, thanks to having had to give my share of apologies for being thoughtless or flip or unkind or stupid or fill in the blank...now, I think before I open my pie hole.  Now I carefully consider if what I'm about to do or say will contribute in a positive way to the situation.  If not, I'm now old enough to realize it's not always about me and what I want or think.  I'm able to keep my mouth closed.  Even so, I'm still not past the point where I'll never have to apologize again.  But it does seem to be less frequent.

Since I don't like to apologize, and let's face it, none of us does, I've learned that if I keep my thoughts to myself and consider the other person more than I think about myself, I don't have to apologize nearly as much.

SCORE! 

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Always Sincere When She Must Offer An Apology

They Grow Up So Fast!

Ahhh....isn't she adorable?! That's little Holly Dolly with her eyes open and sporting her new red collar. Oh yeah, you know you want to cuddle her. Go on, admit it! After all, she's getting used to it.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Dogmother Holly to Holly
Photo courtesy of Lynn Jennings Spencer

Just So You Know...

There is a good possibility that I said a prayer for you this day, or sent a thought {{hug}}, or deliberately smiled when your name drifted through my thoughts. And for those of you, of whose belief system I am sure, I've said a prayer in that vein. It is said that praying for a person, 'by name,' is the most powerful form of prayer. I like the notion of being able to amp up a simple good thought into something that supports and nurtures.

If I dreamed of you in the night, when I awoke I sent a blessing. If your name comes to me during the day, I stop and send you a specific good thought. If you are dealing with a physical issue or energetic imbalance, with your permission, I have sent Reiki. Because, I think we all need this.

I haven't been awake all that long, but for some reason today, if I were to post all the names that have stopped to visit with me, the list would be quite long.

So, please know that I 'heard' you and sent a positive thought spiraling up and out with your name attached like a card on a balloon released into a clear blue sky.

All these years attempting to understand the nature of the relationship with Spirit means that now I am certain of some things but honestly, prayer isn't one of them. I can't say with a certainty that I understand what constitutes prayer. I just know that being in contact to all that is good seems like a definition.

So just so you know, I heard you and sent a 'prayer'. Or, loving experiences I've shared with you crossed my mind and I whispered, 'thank you.' Or, if you are scared and worried or dealing with a hard issue, your need has been acknowledged and supported.

Or, for any of another reason and causes...just so you know...you were thought of with positive energy and love this day.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Until We Meet Again

The man in this picture has been a key figure in my life since I was 14 years old. He means as much to me as my father. After Dad was gone, he moved without my even being aware of it, to the position of fatherly love and guidance.

He left this world last night. Quietly. Peacefully. The way a good man deserves to leave this world. Leave, with those of us who adored him left to remember him and grieve his loss.

But mostly, he is a man who we will remember every day with a smile. We will remember his gifts of sharing, caring, generosity, stern love, deep friendship, support, nurturing, and laughter. We will never have another teacher like him, but we will live our lives to make him proud of all he taught us and shared.

Albert C. Fields, I will see you again and when we meet I can't wait to feel your kiss and hug once more. I love you, Albie.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Grateful

When Blogs Collide!

"The puppies will be ready for visitors sometime around June 4," Lynn explained. "Gary and I would be happy to have you and Michael bring Rory and Fiona to see them. Would that work for you?"

The chance to see eight wheaten Scotties? To hold them and smell puppy breath and cuddle? You bet. Well, even if it is a good six+ hours of a drive, how many times do you get that chance?! Michael said, "I'll re-arrange my schedule; no way I'm letting you go without me. I need to make sure you come home with only the two dogs you went with!" "They're already going to their homes and are not for sale," I shot back. "That's good, so I'm just along for the fun then!"

Lynn and I met here in the blog world. She is the mad hand behind Rocky Creek Scottie Adventures. And, she and I chat on Facebook as well. I've found her to be loving and generous like many dog breeders. She's got a huge crush on Rory because he's so cute and lovable and she has a mad passion for wheaten Scotties. It seemed a fun chance to visit their farm in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.

I've often wondered what it would be like to live some place so remotely set, that you always know a car in the driveway is someone who is specifically coming to see you. Always someone you're expecting or who knows the way to your home. A driveway whose crunch of stone means someone you're likely to be happy to see is on their way. That's what Lynn and Gary have there at Rocky Creek.

We spent the evening sitting out on the lawn and getting to know each other in real time instead of blog time. We dined alfresco and Lynn shared the secret to her great salad! We laughed as we watched Rory play with a young cow almost the same color as he, dancing back and forth along the fence. We did get weary of Fiona barking her bossy bark but she wouldn't yield and the cows wouldn't listen to her, so it was pretty much an impasse.

I met her beloved Scotties. Piper and Rory eventually accepted each other enough to sit butt to butt and watch the night fall. We all looked up to witness the gift of a sky heavy with stars because there is no light pollution to blot out their twinkle. I made a wish as a falling star streaked through the velvet above me.

We spent the night tucked under the eaves of a home that is ancient and whispers its secrets if you listen carefully. It was a Walton's moment when the lights downstairs where turned off and the house went completely black...and the night became brighter outside the windows than what was in the room with you. Crickets chirped a lullaby.

The quilts that Lynn and her female kin have made keeping us warm through the wonderfully cool night. Dogs curled at our feet not moving, completely exhausted from a fun night of introduction to cows, other Scotties, and country air.

Morning came and the soft lowing of cows drifted through the windows. The sounds of puppies mewling for attention crept up the stairs to wake us. Big Scots barking from their bedroom as they heard the two visiting Scots coming down the stairs added to the morning serenade.

A wonderful breakfast of muffins and melon. Long chats over coffee and then it was back in the car to make the trip home. A short visit so worth the long drive. Because when blogs collide, the world is made more loving and fun. When blogs collide you learn so much and can't help but be amazed how interesting and fascinating the lives of others are and how lucky we are to learn of them.

When blogs collide, a woman you didn't really know becomes a friend and Rory gets another fan and both he and Fiona now have an Auntie Lynn. A woman who wanted to hug him even though he was a mess from running in the farm grass wet with dew. We now know the good woman and good man who live at Rocky Creek Farm always welcome you.

Yeah, when blogs collide it can be just like that.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

The Last of Christmas

I can't put it off any longer. Day-light savings time has been here for awhile now. I started the garden clean-up; started being the operative word.

Most of the Christmas decorations have been packed away; most being the operative word in that sentence. I've hung an early spring wreath on the front door. Even my slow tree in the front yard is beginning to bud.

Yep, winter has gone, the Solstice was a few days ago. Even as I contemplate this idea, I'm still amazed that for many of my blogging friends on the far side of the world, it means that summer is over and they are headed into fall. I wonder, if I could time share with them, it means I could live in my favorite season all year long! I'll have to give that more consideration...

The thunder storms have started early. The spring rains are doing their best to remind me of the season change. And yet...here I sit looking at this last vestige of the holiday season. Yes, because of the adorable wee lights and the colors, but mostly as a way to recall a significant kindness done during the season of lights.

You may have read my post about Dad making a ceramic Christmas tree for me many years ago. When I wrote The Season of Remembering I was toying with the idea that the things in your life take on a different meaning and importance as we get older.

Very shortly after I posted it, I got a Face Book message from the daughter of a friend of mine; I haven't spoken with her in a years. Alea wrote to say that she now lives in Florida and has a ceramics shop. She wanted to let me know that she had got a great many requests of late for the Christmas trees, invariably a patron saying, "My (fill in the blank,) had one of these when I was little and I thought I'd make one for our home because I remember the lights..."

She wanted to know if she could print and post my blog because she thought it really captured the appeal of these holiday tchotchkes. I whole-heartedly agreed. I suggested she print a bunch and leave them at her counter for people to pick up. I went on to say that I had always wanted one of the really little trees but, they weren't around when Dad made mine and that, yes, I really did love the one he made.

It was great hearing from Alea; a nice holiday moment of catching up. Hearing that a once tiny, precoutious child is finding her way happily and creatively through life is always a gift.

A few days later, in the mail arrived a wee tree. The accompanying note from Alea said she hoped it would add to my joy of the holidays and thanked me for letting her print my post. Many people had been in to paint a tree for their home.

And so, a tradition continues for another generation to enjoy. That's really what the holidays are about...creating a moment when life is predictable and gentle and joyous.

Shortly after the holidays, I had surgery and one thing lead to another and, well, the little tree never got put away. And, I never got a thank you note off to Alea, which is very unlike me. I hope she reads this to understand how grateful I am to her generosity and talents. And how the little tree will be a new moment of remembering.

Today it is pouring buckets and its so gray and gloomy that, even though I was going to put the wee tree away finally...I think I'll just sit here and look at those tiny sparks of color and smile a bit longer.

I hope you can find some color and love in your day today.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Aunt Holly

In Memory

I sit here and type, thinking about the fact that I've been sharing myself very publicly for a couple of years now. In that sharing, a lot of things have been learned; about myself, for myself, about others, about views of life and living.

A great many unexpected things have come from blogging. Like the unbelievable sense of how vast the world is, yet immediate, now with the Internet and things like Facebook. There's an up and down-side to that immediacy. That immediacy and transparency is still in the process of being successfully incorporated into our lives. Some of us handle it better than others.

There is a surprise element in how 'close' you can become with other bloggers; a sense of community you never anticipated begins to grow. In fact, deep friendships, mentorships can be a great by-product of this new way of sharing ourselves.

What I didn't ever expect to experience is a deep sorrow that comes from losing someone who I have never met in real time. Never sat with and had a cup of coffee; never talked with on the telephone. Never smiled into their eyes. And yet...

...when I learned of the death of Tessa Edwards when visiting her blog, I wept as though she is someone whose hand I have held or hugged. How is that possible?

Tessa's blog is one that I found at the suggestion of another dear blogging friend of mine, Ribbon. She thought I would like Tessa's site very much; she was right. From the moment I saw the bright and fun banner, and read the words beneath it, "FROM A LIFE...A COLLECTION OF IMAGES IN PROSE, PAINT AND PHOTOGRAPHS," I knew I had found a place to learn and love.

Tessa and I became a bit closer when she had a contest to choose the title for a manuscript that she was hoping to publish. Her editor chose my suggestion. I was thrilled! Later still, when she and I had exchanged some messages, she began to call me Your Hollyness, because of my insistence on being the Queen of The Universe. A notion that Tessa wholeheartedly supported!

Her artwork is spectacular. Colorful, deeply steeped in her love of South Africa. Her ability to express herself in art and words you can't help but admire. With all of her talent, and her world traveled views, she wasn't one to take herself or life seriously. For Tessa, it's all about the experience of learning to find humor and love in each day and sharing with others.

One of her works, an armadillo floating tranquilly through the air via a hot air balloon hangs close to this desk where I do my work and chat with you. I admired it when she had it on her blog and left a comment about it; soon after, it arrived via the mail. How generous! I look at it often. While she has been so sick, I've stopped and sent Reiki whenever my eye rests on the happy piece.

Over the past couple of days, I found myself drawn to it much more frequently. And, last night decided it was time to take a few minutes and sit at Tessa's to send a New Year's greeting to my friend across the pond. That's when I read the post her family was kind enough to put up to let us all know that Tessa had died on the 27th...how very considerate of them to do that.

It's also more than kind of them, when you discover that Tessa started her blog as a gift to her children. A place where she could share the things she loved best...books, art, Africa. Her notions on being a Real Human Being.

Even after so many of us who are not her family began to visit, her family was kind enough to share her with us without complaint. What started out as a singular activity has reached so very far. I hope that the comments we have left about her passing, will help them as they learn to live without her constant presence in their lives. I hope they feel pride and take consolation upon hearing how so many of us have been touched by Tessa.

Now I know, that my constant looking at the artwork for the last day or so, was Tessa stopping by to leave a kiss and a smile as she passed through. She now delightedly stretches her Being on safari in the fields of her new world. I know this. Absolutely. I know this.

As a parting gift from this incredible woman I never knew in 'real' time, Tessa has given me this--I will never fear death again. Never. For now I know, without question, that death is but a portal to our next glorious adventure. For, there is no way that such a remarkable spirit can end just because its body stopped. It's simply not possible. I know we are taught this, but I've never felt it before now. Like a deep, rich bell sounding in my soul, I now know this as truth, not simply an act of faith.

She may be gone from this world but, I can still feel her art, her laughter, her prose, her spirit, her kindness and generosity. I feel them just the same as when she was 'here' with us. So, now I know, not just hope, that the truth of us, the love we have and the dreams and goodness, goes on. It simply does.

Thank you Tessa. I will look to see you again. I know this is true. Happy Safari in your new home and life.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Tessa Edwards' friend

Five And Fabulous!

Rory and Fiona were born ten days apart. She's older and bossier. They are half brother and sister; same sire, different dams. He was a busy Scottie five years ago! Sadly he came to a very tragic end when he escaped shortly after and was struck by a car. That makes these two the last of the line. Sadly.

But, today's story is about birthdays and many happy returns of the day! In the mail came a package addressed to me but was really for the two of them. Sarah Sullivan made them tie-dye bandannas! And she even popped in a wee Halloween treat for me.

I am continually struck by how the blog world has grown so many friendships for all of us that would not have happened otherwise. We all live so far from each other, but here in the blog-o-sphere, we're able to be friends and care for and about each other. Able to celebrate our fun times and support each other in the sad ones. And, even though many of us will never have the opportunity to meet in person, the friendships are no less real.

Thanks, Sarah, for such cute scarves and making a 5th birthday so special. I know these two wild highlanders of mine really think they are, as Rory might say, "Grrrrrand!" Happy birthday to my wonderful Scotties!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mommer

One More Reason To Blog!

I would like to introduce you to Linda! That's not this day-lily's real name, for that's been lost. However, Linda is the best name for her. She is one season old. She came all the way from Washington state to live in my garden. Just because I admired her when I saw her...

...on another's blog!

Linda is a glass artist and gardener. I met her through another blogger who is a jewelry artist and well, the thread winds through and around and now both of these talented women, who I have never met in 'real' time, have become friends. Amazing.

If you want to see a garden that you'd love to sink down in and just spend hours looking around, then by all means, go see Linda at, An Artist's Garden and enjoy your visit.

Please note: You CAN NOT have the turquoise Adirondack chairs for I am taking those, and also the bird house...hands off, that's mine too! Oh, and the glass bird baths, any of those are most likely mine. Don't argue with me. And, enjoy your visit.

Linda, I am thrilled that Linda rewarded me with a bloom the first season of being up and here. When we move? She goes with me!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Loves To Garden

Just In Case....

My feeling is that someone, or many of you, could use one of these today. If, I'm right, please know I'll do it in person for you if I'm within arm's reach. And, for those of you who may not be that close...

...in my mind I can so clearly see us arms around each other. Hope you can feel it, too.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Loves To Give Hugs

Something Fishy With The Mail

I guess it's no surprise when you wonder what's up with the postal service these days. But, something is most definitely fishy with the package that came yesterday. See for yourself...

Yep, purple and blue fish arrived at my house. It cost a lot of money to send those fish! Who would do such a thing?

Along with the fish, a letter of explanation...

And, copies of photos I passingly said I admire...

And a wild heart with a bug of bling! Bugs and fish in the mail? Wow! The funny thing is, the one who sent it?

Couldn't have known how excited the critters and bugs who already swarm my house would act. How very pleased and excited to have a new member in their Bling Family. They immediately swarmed around in welcome. Landing on that cool paper heart in a matter of seconds! I love synchronicity!

And, the most warm and wonderful love note from a friend far away... reminding me yet again that the blog world is so wonderful because it brings people together who may never have met in 'real' time. Brings warmth, commraderie, friendship. Forms bonds of support and care.

It really goes above and beyond considering this was the second care package sent. The first one was destroyed in the mail and the broken pieces were returned to her weeks later.

Who could be that generous and kind?

Thank you Cinner, for your wonderful gifts and for sharing from you personal life. For giving me a sense of who you are by what you write and so freely give. Turns out fish can survive in the mail after all!

My Love & Thanks to my Canadian Friend!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Grateful

Prezzie For Me

See that adorable canvas on the wall that looks like an old post card with a Scottie on it? That was a surprise that came in the mail yesterday! For me. Just because.

And, it was sent all the way from the Deep South where my friend via the blog world, Nancy, aka Big Pissy lives. She runs an adorable blog that is like snippets from a great magazine you love to look at for the photography, the color, the points of interest, the spots around town. I met her when I was following another blog...and though that connection is not in place any longer, I think it was only in place to lead me to Nancy's blog. I visit with her and smile.

I can't really explain what it is that her blog makes me feel. But, here's the feeling it evokes- it's like coming into a rich, quiet, library, where you can sit and relax and look at anything you like for as long as you want to stay there. You can watch people come and go, and wonder about the books they check out. You can feel the quiet and peace and the joy of experiencing parts of the world that aren't your every day.

You'll like her. She's warm, and flip and funny and dear. She loves to go junking, and Trader Joe's, and Target and Ikea, and shopping in general. Window shopping, farmer market shopping, just walking about and seeing the sights. She's your best gal pal on a Saturday morning excursion to some new corner in town that you always wanted to visit but never found the time. And, I wish we lived closer.



So, just like any good Shopaneesta, she's always on the look out for fun things for her friends who have a particular passion for something...and can you believe she found this?! Bought it for me and sent it. Yep! Just because she thought I'd like it. But, she's wrong. I don't like it; I adore it!

Here's the thing; I've looked at and almost bought this piece of art for myself a couple of times and at the very last moment held off. I know, imagine me showing restraint! But, now I think it's because as much as I would have loved it had I bought it, it means so very much more to me that Nancy would find it and send it to me, just because she hoped I'd love it.

And, I most certainly do. Thank you Nancy. I wish I could really tell you how much it means to me, but somehow, I think you know already.

I love it. It's perfect. Very much like you. Don't argue with me about that. I know the goods when I see them!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Blessed