Quacks Like A Duck

I am sometimes enthusiastic when meeting new folks. Just have to hear their story. And usually share bits of mine.

Was in Narragansett some time ago and visited a kayaking place.

While talking to the guy I detected an accent. Not the Rhode Island or New England local parlance.

I patiently waited the recommended obligatory time before plunging in with that cringe-worthy, tired old phrase, “You’re not from around these parts.”

Not even in the form of a question. Just a “putting it out there cuz it’s true” statement. Not said, though, in any mean-spirited “you don’t belong here” vein.

I know it totally sounds like something you would hear in the South. “Son, you ain’t from around these parts, are ya?”

He said, “No, I am not.”

I ask, “Texas?”

He replies, “Close.”

Arkansas.

Anyway, we began chatting. I was accompanied by my friend, Karla  (who I met when I lived in Dallas) and my youngest daughter.

Karla says, “I’m not from Rhode Island but I live here now. Mary’s a native.”

I exuberantly exclaim, “But we first met each other in Texas!”

And proceeded to tell him our “it’s a small world” story.

Later, I texted her and said, “Oh my gosh, I just realized. The way I described our meeting that fellow must have thought we were a lesbian couple with an adopted daughter!”

Not because Karla was sporting a short, new haircut but because of my enthusiasm for the relationship.

She immediately texted back, “The ones who thought “lesbians” were the authors at the book signing last week. When we asked them to autograph the book beginning, “To Karla and Mary.”

I literally laughed out loud.

Who does that?

It’s true though.

In this particular scenario, it was simply a case of us being cheap, avid readers. Not lesbianism. I can certainly understand the confusion. Lesbian couples would totally share a book.

If it looks like a duck. If it quacks like a duck. And all that.

But it might not always be a duck.

Surround yourselves with friends who truly make you laugh and enjoy the rest of your week!

Read Full Post »

Front Page News

A couple of years ago I was perusing the newspapers. In the span of eight days three deaths were reported. Two of the men were one time notables from my small state. The third was a celebrity who was well known in the United States and beyond.

Here goes.

The man who married me passed away. No, not my husband.

It was the judge who married us thirty-six years ago at an intimate gathering which took place in my aunt’s living room on a chilly November afternoon.

He also happened to be the Chief Justice of Rhode Island’s Supreme Court. Due to ethics violations he would resign from that position in 1993.

So, this is what happens when someone who has experienced a state of disgrace dies. The crimes and misdemeanors are unearthed and once again splashed across the front page.

Their death appears to be a perfect segue into a rehashing of past sins.

In that same newspaper, as one slowly thumbs their way toward the back pages where the obituaries reside, another story awaits. An entirely different rendition. Parentage, place of birth, education, family, hobbies, organizations and religious affiliation. A listing of beloved survivors left to mourn the loss. Nowhere is there even a whisper of any wrong-doing. Nor should there be. The family pays for the obituaries. By the line!

That same week another Rhode Islander, of a good age, also died. A fellow who embezzled, destroyed evidence and ended up serving prison time. That was back in the 1980s. But we were reminded (although we already remembered) of his dastardly deeds when we unfurled the newspaper that landed on our front step. Informing us of his passing. When we finally make it to the back, once again where the obituaries rest, another description emerges. He was a World War II volunteer at the age of eighteen. Had a strong faith and believed in supporting Catholic education. Was a community leader. Worked until he was ninety-two years old. Missed by so many. Is this even the same person described on the front page?

Yes, it is.

Front page. Back page.

One more death occurred during that span of eight days. This one received non-stop national news coverage. It was a tragic accident. He was a sports superstar. A breaker of records. In the prime of his life. A loving husband and father of four. Beloved by fans and celebrities alike. His front page story did not allude to any misdeeds. Not one.

It only focused on the tragedy and loss. The shock that his family, friends, fans and others felt. Story upon story of his accomplishments filled newspaper and magazine pages. His role as a loving father and concerned community member.

He also was accused of a crime many years ago. A very public apology and a cash settlement. Yet, when that was even mentioned, tweeted or discussed it was immediately squashed. People got ugly and threats were unleashed. Fury. People were afraid to talk or write about it.

Why? Was it the tragic circumstances of the death? The age of the deceased? The national stage versus the local stage?

None of us are saints. All of us are sinners. There is absolutely no doubt about that. But no one should be on a pedestal. We all have our own front and back page.

Each of those three men already paid for their crimes-literally and figuratively.

If the front page is a listing of failings then shouldn’t it apply to all? Shouldn’t it be a fair and honest reporting across the board? No matter the level of stage presence?

Or why don’t we just delete that front page and enjoy the scrubbed up version. Hidden somewhere on the back page.

Read Full Post »

Positive Change

How can I (or anyone) take action, to help my fellow countrymen/women, in a positive way?

First of all we need to be honest. And that is really, really hard.

Racism is alive and well in the United States. I don’t have to tell you that. Just turn on the television.

Someone asked me, at a socially distanced barbeque, what percentage of Americans I thought are actually racist. I quickly pulled out a 99% and I included myself in that number. The person who asked the question-along with my husband-did not agree with me.

Maybe I should use the word biased and not racist. Everyone has some bias. Not our fault. It’s in our politics. In our growing up years. In our society. Inherently. We don’t even notice it.

There lies the rub. We don’t even notice it.

We need to notice it. In order to create change we need to take notice and start questioning.

Not too long ago there were only white males in power or positions of authority. We (white people) didn’t even think about it. Until we did. And made changes.

I will share a story from my beloved father’s own mouth. He wasn’t telling me out of pride.

My mother, a bright lady, was a Registered Nurse. She skipped a grade in elementary school, graduated high school and was soon in the nursing program at a Rhode Island hospital. She loved her job and her nursing friends. I can still remember one evening, while I was upstairs in bed, hearing them while they laughed and smoked. I think that is probably the first time I also became aware of someone who was gay. One of Mom’s nurse friends.

Mom worked on the first heart/lung machine in Rhode Island. She also taught others. Pretty cool stuff.

My Dad was always so very proud of her. Almost to his dying day, if he was at a Drs. appointment-hers or his, he always mentioned that she was a nurse.

In the 1960s, when my parents married, three kids quickly arrived on the scene.

So, back then, life gets a bit tricky. And my mom was going to have to quit or cut back hours.

Dad told me, that a male Doctor from the hospital actually called him on the telephone. Asking if Mom could still work. Dad nicely and respectfully told the Doctor that they had a growing family.

When I was listening to my Dad tell this story I was sort of shocked. My stomach kind of lurched. I felt terrible for my mom (although she did work as a nurse part-time for years before going full-time again) -that the decision was not really hers.

I appreciated my father sharing that with me across their dining room table. I also appreciated that in the 1950s and 1960s things looked a whole lot different for women.

Did my Dad’s views change as he got older? Of course, they did.

Why?

Because people took notice and things changed for women.

But how many years had passed before someone noticed?

Now is the time for all of us to pay attention and listen.

Most importantly it is time to take notice.

Read Full Post »

#4 Share

When the youngest, Hannah, was home during the month-long winter break she had the forethought to bring her plants home. Didn’t want to leave them to die a slow painful death in the cold dormitory.

One was a philodendron. A very green and healthy plant. Was growing like crazy as philos are wont to do. I told her it needed a haircut. To spruce it up a bit. So I did.

Then I took the cuttings and plunked them into a glass vase filled with water.

The kid returned to her university with her newly shorn plants at the end of the holiday.

Meanwhile, the cuttings were thriving at their new homevase (just made that word up and keeping it) and shooting out little roots everywhere. All I ever had to do was top it off with a little water as needed.

This is what it looks like now.

There are now probably five or six individual plants. From one plant.

My daughter is currently home with us. She left university the first week of March and arrived in Rhode Island to spend the short Spring break. Never imagining that she wouldn’t be right back at school in ten days. So her only accompaniment was a big basket filled with dirty clothes. Everything else, including her green little plants, remains locked up in her inaccessible dorm room.

Poor little plants. Also casualties in the pandemic war.

The good news is that when she does return to her university she will have five new plants. All from the original Mama.

This is something simple we can all do. Whether we live on a ranch or in a city apartment. Take a cutting from one of your plants. Then drop it in a glass jar or vase. When it roots share with a friend, neighbor or family member. Rinse and repeat.

It’s healthy for the indoor environment. Where many of us happen to be spending every minute at the moment. It’s super easy. Cheerful to look at while also spreading cheer.

Things will get better. Hang in there. Be safe.

Read Full Post »

Catching Up

I recently received a “Happy 11th Blogging Anniversary” message from “Wordpress.” It’s a yearly occurrence and it always causes me to reflect.

What has happened in the last year? What has changed in the past eleven years?

Quit smoking. Lost my dad. Moved half a dozen times. Embraced new friends. Explored exciting places. Mother-in-law passed away. Tried different hobbies. Accepted unique challenges. And so much more.

That’s sort of what I usually share each year with the folks who follow my blog. Of course, with a big thank you attached.

I had a lovely year. Wonderful Fall. Was looking forward to a lot of new things and celebrations in 2020.

This year’s 11th anniversary update was going to go something like this.

I was going to share that I started Weight Watchers the week before Christmas. Like who does that? Everyone knows that you wait until January 2nd! But I went with a friend.

That I completed my 2019 book challenge (100 books) on Goodreads. Like who does that? To be honest though, I was still reading the last pages on New Year’s Eve. But I did it. Won’t do it again.

I was going to share my attempt to sign up for a writing workshop this past Fall. The librarian said the class was full but took my name/email and said she would pass it along to the instructor for the Spring class. I then totally forgot about it. Apparently my request was buried deep in a pile somewhere until the workshop leader contacted me just before the new session began.

That I tried something for the very first time. Tamarind. I lived in Malaysia for five years and never tried it. Resided in India for a year and it never passed my lips. Just for the record- it’s delicious. Tastes like a date. Also supposed to be super good for you. I also tried Husk Cherries at a local outdoor Market. They look like cherry tomatoes in a husk but taste like pineapple. Amazing.

I was going to share that I started a Women’s Walking Group. Because I met a woman in the deli line who was new to Rhode Island. Knew nothing about the area. I asked if she liked to walk. She said, “Yes, but I don’t like to walk alone.” I told her that we would accompany her after the holidays. She wrote her contact information on a piece of paper. I finished my shopping and when I reached in my pocket for the paper it was gone! Back into the grocery I go. Retraced my steps. and spied the paper on the floor in aisle 5. A seed was germinating. So I contacted a handful of women I knew to gauge interest in a group walk. Everyone responded happily. But then something got in the way after only one walk.

That I did my first Alzheimer’s Walk with a group of friends. To raise funds for a cure. My friend has early onset Alzheimer’s and I pray that someday soon it will be eradicated.

I was going to share that I am making an effort to explore locally. Walking, shopping and supporting small local businesses. I’ve lived away for so long I am appreciating being close to home. I am enjoying the peacefulness of nature every day.

That I am trying a new aluminum free deodorant. Keep you posted on that one.

I was going to share that I am trying to be more focused on reducing packaging. We are great recyclers and compost kitchen scraps but there is just so much more to be done. Maybe I should buy more in bulk. Like toilet paper.

That I was on Grand Jury duty for six weeks beginning in October and I would do it again in a hot minute. Murder, madness and mayhem. I would have paid them.

I was going to share that I saved up my pennies and finally made an appointment to see if I was a candidate for Lasik. I was scared stiff (these are my eyes!) but had the procedure. I no longer have to wear glasses for distance. I did not like having to be so careful with them. I could never get over the cost of prescription eye glasses (or the horrible decision making process in choosing the perfect specs. Absolute hell for a Libra)and wondered why one Italian company basically owned all the glass companies in the entire world. I am now back to the cheap cheetah cheaters (or any print I want) for the fine print.

That I was thinking of starting a community day or project to assist folks that needed yard work or simple chores done. Something I had the pleasure of being involved with when my eldest was in university. Within a month of me thinking this my town (and the neighboring town) hosted an event called “A Day of Giving. Like it read my mind. Like Facebook and the government. lol.

I was going to share that I had a lovely Fall visit with my youngest in Burlington, Vermont. I happily attended two of her classes. One was taught by a professor who is also an author. Had coffee, a chat and got my book autographed. The title is <"Black Is The Body" by Emily Bernard. Visited a farm and hiked to the top of the hill to take in the glorious colors. Finally ambled out to the whale sculpture on the side of the highway. It’s called “Reverence” and symbolizes the frailty of the planet.

That I had a fabulous time visiting my eldest in Oakland, California in January. Saw a wonderful play (Becky Nurse of Salem) at Berkeley Rep. Ate fabulous Ethiopian and Indian food -how I missed it! Watched “Queen and Slim” at a cool neighborhood cinema. The movie is “edge of your seat” material. Went on a hike with views of San Francisco Bay. Attended two law school classes. Visited Oakland Museum and enjoyed everything. Their “Burning Man” exhibit was fascinating.

I was going to share that I had a business idea. Something fun and right up my alley.

That the youngest and I were going to Florida to visit my brother for Spring Break.

You’d be totally caught up with me.

Then everything changed. Went sideways very quickly.

We were beginning to hear about this virus. Cruise ships. Passengers stuck off the coast of Japan in quarantine. It still seemed so far away. Literally and figuratively. I start to think, “Is there anything good that actually comes out of a cruise?” Honeymooners throwing their new spouses over the side. Airborne illness again and again. People missing from the manifest. Then the big one. The
Corona Virus. But it’s not just the cruise lines.

My husband said, “Why go if you don’t have to?” Truth. Plans canceled.

The youngest, a junior at university and an RA, arrived home two days before Spring break was due to commence because she was ill. While at home her campus closed. On-line classes only.

The oldest, a law student in her final year and also a TA for undergraduates, had all campus courses canceled. Then the entire Bay area was directed to “Shelter in Place.” Graduation ceremony canceled. Even the Bar Exam pushed to the Fall. It’s unbelievable. Trying to figure what the best way (and when) to bring her back to Rhode Island.

Each and every day there is something new. We are glued to televisions, computers and phones. Looking at numbers, graphs and trends.

Schools, libraries, restaurants, businesses, cinemas, salons and more begin to close. Advised to stay close to home and stay far from others. If you are elderly do not leave home! Always ensure six feet between you and another person. Six feet apart or you’ll be six feet under! Practice social distancing. Wipe down packages. Wear masks.

It’s so, so, so surreal.

I received (and so did you) emails from every company I ever had contact with in the last two decades. Theaters, restaurants, utilities, schools, churches, cemeteries, genealogy sites, on-line shops, doctors, banks, car shops, etc. All letting me know the steps they are taking because of the Virus.

This week I had a look at some old blog postings from the Winter of 2018-2019 when I was listing/sharing ideas on ways to avoid the winter blues. I will update them, if necessary, and share them again for the days ahead. And any new ideas that pop into my head to combat the Virus blues.

You are now officially caught up.

We are all in the same boat. We are all in the house. We are all in this together. And we are all going to get through this.

We are all just walking each other home.

Stay safe and thank you for reading!

Read Full Post »

Thing of Beauty

I’m not going to lie. This morning when my eyes opened I actually thought about just lying there and not getting out of the bed. My very first thought was, “Ugh.”

Now I do realize my “Ugh” is certainly different from many of the “Ughs” currently out there. I am incredibly grateful for that.

So I got out of bed.

On March 21st, my friend and fellow blogger Ernie, posted some photos on his Facebook site. As an aside, he has a wonderful blog about trails and walks in Rhode Island. If you need to find uncrowded places to walk see his blog listed below. Just make sure they are open before going.

https://trailsandwalksri.wordpress.com/

Anyway, he had just visited Parson’s Reserve in nearby Dartmouth, Massachusetts. There are trails, groves and vernal pools. A big attraction in the Spring is the field of 11,000 daffodils. Ernie shared his photographs and noted that the place should be in full bloom the following week or so. Yay!! I immediately put it on my list of safe places to visit/things to do for the next week. Especially during this unprecedented time when we could all use some fresh air and the peacefulness of nature to quell our fears and anxiety. My youngest daughter said she would accompany me on my quest for cheerfulness and beauty.

By March 24th, the entire property was closed. The trails and the daffodil fields. Too much risk involved due to the virus. Smart decision. Another day of “That’s disappointing but understandable.” It seems that every day is like that now.

But that’s not what I want you to take away.

When I was researching the Dartmouth daffodil field I found this.

According to local lore, the daffodils were planted by Raymond Pettey in the 1940s to sell during World War II, while the U.S. was unable to get bulbs from Holland. The war ended and the flowers remained. The daffodil field is a popular attraction with over 9,000 visitors in 2014, and there are over 11,000 daffodils planted at Parsons Reserve.

I needed to see that. Whether the story is true or not. A time of extreme hardship fostered ingenuity and resulted in a thing of beauty. One that continues to grow and bring joy.

What can any or all of us do now that will result in a thing of beauty? That will continue to grow long after the dark days have passed?

Be safe, everyone. Follow directives. Remember that we are all in this together.

Read Full Post »

Good Spirits-Part Two

Happy New Year to you all! Wishing everyone the very best!

I need to finish up “part two” so I can get it out of my head to make room for more.

So, in the last posting, I wrote about how we (the Hannah and I) happened upon a witches’ tea and a spirit gallery in the Northeast pocket of Vermont. You’ll need to go back and read “Part One” if you haven’t seen it yet. Just to familiarize yourself. Totally random.

We were signed up and ready to participate. It was a group setting. Salicrow, the Medium, would pull five or six names out of the jar and act as a conduit for the visiting spirits. One at a time, of course!

The session, per her numerology love, begins at 3:33pm and ends at 4:44pm.

As I previously mentioned there were a few folks finding comfort in hearing from parents who passed. As well as the very sad case of a spirit whose earthly body left way too soon by ghastly measures.

Salicrow displayed nothing but compassion and care.

She reaches her hand in the jar and whips out another ticket. I check my stub and it’s a match! I’m never a winner. Not saying I’m a loser. Not that. I just don’t usually win things.

So, I have to go and sit in the chair next to Salicrow. My daughter is thrilled. She later tells me she prayed so hard that I would get chosen.

It was mentioned, at the beginning of the session, that some people record the experience because it can be a lot to absorb. We didn’t but I wished that we had.

I’m skeptical. When it comes to me. I am a pretty grounded person with a light-hearted personality. But I am no airy fairy. I’m tolerant of those folks but I am not one of them. It’s just a fact.

Except.

Except when it comes to friends and family who I miss. The welcome mat is always out for any/all signs and visitors.

Salicrow asks who I want to communicate with today. I should have said, “Strongest spirit” to see if this gig is all legit. LOL. But I was a little nervous about being the center of attention in a group.

So I spit out, “My Dad.”

She begins. Says my dad is here. He’s proud of me. She says that he was more involved as a grandfather. That he’s sorry he didn’t play with me. He says he loves me. Said that one of the grandkids was clingy.

Wants to know if the number fifty-six means anything to me. It doesn’t. I’m skeptical (like I said) so I’m thinking she can ascertain ages of people. And does math in her head. I’m fifty-four at the time. But I do try to cooperate because I am a pleaser. It’s tough when you are in the spotlight. All thinking goes out the window.

I offer, “Maybe the year he came to this country?”

But I don’t think that’s it.

Then she is asking if he had an accent (because I said he came to this country?) so I laugh and say, “Yes, he had a heavy Rhode Island accent.”

Everyone chuckled.

And that is true. Even though my Dad was raised in Ireland he died with a Rhode Island accent. But he never let go of the Irish pronunciation of TH. It came out as just T. He’d be yelling for me, “Mary Bet”-my nickname was Mary Beth. In all fairness to dear old Dad I have heard many Rhode Islanders who suffer that same affliction.

To prove that I am not making up this bit. On his eightieth birthday I had a prepared speech (as the self anointed emcee) which included a game, “How well do you know Pat?” This skit included memories and fun facts.

One of those memories was when my kids were little and teasing him. Asking, “Papa, what are the gas prices in Rhode Island?”

They couldn’t wait for his answer, “Tree-tirty-tree.”

Total setup. How they giggled.

One of his six sisters, my Auntie Maureen, immediately came to his defense (even though she wasn’t even there-but that is sister behavior all over the world) and said that the Irish don’t pronounce the TH because the Irish language didn’t have a TH. And I guess never fully converted to the English.

So this party is documented somewhere. And Hannah is the one who later reminded me of that memory.

The session this day began at 3:33pm. Like Papa and the gas price. Tree tirty tree.

Anyway, I didn’t learn anything new from this session. I know, without any doubt in the world, that my father loved me. And I loved him.

True, he didn’t play with us. Except on vacation. Or sometimes throwing baseballs to my brothers in the backyard. But there wasn’t a dad in my neighborhood who I can recall playing with their kids. It was just the time. The seventies.

And Salicrow could have figured that as well.

Anyway, it was all a feel good moment.

When I returned to Rhode Island I was sharing the experience with my older brother. He said, “I’m fifty-six.” Which is also how many years my parents would have been married at that time. Sometimes when you are on the spot you suffer a mental block!

Fifty-six, three-thirty-three and more. A lot of coincidences that day.

Reminds me of Albert Einstein’s words,”Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.

I’d like to think that’s true.

Wishing you all a year of health and happiness.

Read Full Post »

#16

The best news ever! The ospreys have returned! I spotted a male and female this past weekend. Close to their man-made, lofted perch of last year.

So, I guess, it’s official. Spring has sprung. Mating rituals will be performed all over the place. Offspring will be popping up every where. Birds, deer, mink, opossum, foxes and coyotes will all be expanding their families. Yay!

We will still have some seasonal rain (how could we have May flowers without it?) and there will be days when we will be housebound.

Here’s #16 on the “Almost There” list.

Buy a bouquet of cheery flowers. Nothing that requires too much labor. Just a vase and some water.

My “go-to flower” for a little bit of sunshine is the yellow tulip. I know it’s hard for people to believe but I will always prefer a bundle of yellow tulips over a bouquet of red roses. Always.

Speaking of tulips. I need to give a long overdue shout out to C&R Mercantile in Bristol, Rhode Island. Last Spring my friend and I were out exploring and happened upon it. A little spot with super curb appeal. The bright and cheerful display, just outside the entry, beckoned to us.

So charming!

Need supplies for a picnic or a sail? Go no further. This is your place.

The shop was brimming with locally sourced items. Plus all sorts of lovely “must haves.” It’s not huge but it’s worthy. Owned by a woman.

Have a look here.

I know you are thinking, “What does this have to do with tulips???”

It was here that I spied a beautiful bunch of yellow tulips. Totally went home with me. And this particular batch seemed to last forever. Looking fresh and good for more than two weeks! They hung out so long that I was starting to think I’d need to open another college savings account.

So stop and pay the shop a visit if you are ever in the area. You’ll be glad you did.

Fresh cut flowers (wherever you are in the world) will always brighten a home. Especially if you are waiting for sunny days of Spring!

Almost there.

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

#8 Eye Catcher

I am feeling the pressure to crank out these babies and I’ll tell you why.

Babies, of course, referring to items on the list. Not actual babies.

“Avoiding doldrums of winter” is the list. Refer to past postings for the other seven.

The reason I am feeling pressure is because the winter is flying. In about eighteen days the clocks in my house will “Spring Ahead!” by an hour. We will blink and there will be crocuses popping out of the ground. It will be Easter and then it will be the Fourth of July.

That sounds like good news. Besides the fact life is going by quickly.

So is my list even necessary?

Probably.

Because some winters are longer than others. Some are colder. Different regions experience different weather.

So here goes.

#8

An eye catcher. 

Usually that’s me. But for the purpose of this list I will stick with inanimate objects.

Have something that brightens up the joint. Something visible that catches your eye. Lifts your mood. Each and every time. Acts like a dopamine drip.

We surround ourselves with furniture and a lifetime of dust collectors. How often do we actually acknowledge them? Even notice that they are there?

Yes, most of us are generally happy with our space. The overall feeling when you walk in the front door. Believe me, some days that feeling of contentment and “I’m in the comfort of my own place” vibe is enough for anyone.

Maybe looking for something more is asking too much?

Nah.

We have to continue working on the “shaking the blues” list! Something more than the same old thing is necessary.

This always works for me.

But not everyone wants or is able to have a pet and I promised to stick with inanimate.

There are a few things around the house, other than husband and dog, that I really like and always seem to brighten my moments.

I’ll share one today.

This is a small painting by a local Rhode Island artist named Kathy Weber. I have it displayed on a wall in a high traffic area near the front door.

Different things appeal to each of us for a variety of reasons. That is what makes the world go ’round.

When I look at this piece of art I am immediately transported to the town where I was raised. Sure, this could be a winter street scene from any New England working class neighborhood. But it looks exactly like mine. I also love the colors Weber uses in her work.

I found it at Neville Fine Art and Framing in Warren, Rhode Island. I chatted with Donna, the owner, back in the summer while admiring the shop and its nicely displayed pieces.

This little gem caught my eye and then I left without buying it.

I don’t know why. What’s wrong with me? It’s probably because I am a Libra and any decisions I ever need to make practically have to involve a congressional hearing. It’s no joke. So hard for me.

Then I started having these pangs of what I guess could only be described as the opposite of buyer’s remorse. Non-buyer’s remorse.

I knew then I just had to have it.

So a few days later my friend and I headed to the shop. Of course, we showed up after business hours.

The following week I was with another friend and drove to the shop. Had every intention of arriving home with my new bundle of joy. Nope. Didn’t happen. The place was not open on this particular day.

I was about to go down another road. You know the one. It’s called, “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

But I didn’t.

The third time was the charm. Whew!

Okay, I can’t make decisions to save my life. But once something gets stuck in my head it’s going absolutely nowhere until I deal with it. If a person looks up the definition of “dogged” in the dictionary my eye catching face will be staring right back at them. My Dad used to say, “Watch out when she gets a bee in her bonnet.” He wasn’t lying.

Thank God it’s only the small stuff with me.

Imagine how tired I would be if I was going for world peace? Or bringing down the number of mass killings in the U.S.?

As a side note. It won’t take you three times to gain entry into Donna’s shop. That was just me, flying by the seat of my pants, without checking business hours and days of operation before hopping in the car. Expecting the world to revolve around my whims. 

If you are in the area stop by and see Donna. You’ll be glad you did. Tell her I sent you. Just say, “Mary, the lady who loves that your shop smells like Christmas all year round.” She’ll know. 

I bought the painting and I love it. It is a bright spot on a winter’s day.

Obviously, a painting is not going to do it for everyone. But there will be something. You’ll find it.

The eye catcher.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

#7 Take a Walk

#7

On my list of things to fight the winter blues.

Take a walk.

Blessed with a day that is not considered, “Dangerous conditions?” Then you should take advantage of it.

If the sun is shining just bundle up and walk. Grab a friend. Discover things you would never find driving in a car. Make new acquaintances. Appreciate nature. Stroll around town. Visit the shops. Or a local park. Read the historical plaques.

I live in the Northeast. Basically, that means a person never really knows what tomorrow’s weather might bring. Have to enjoy the good days when you can!

This was yesterday.

But the rest of the photos were taken the day before yesterday. Or sometime during the previous week.

Our Thumper. Loving life. Every single minute.

Mussel heaven.

Barrington.

Swans on thin ice in Warren, Rhode Island.

The swans started bickering with each other. This one had enough and hightailed it out of  there. It’s like seeing a giraffe fly. Never gets old.

Dinosaur bones. Okay, found these a couple of months ago. Not last week. Poppasquash, Bristol.

 

Tankers and ships are a common sight on Narragansett Bay as they head into the Port of Providence.

Donkey and sheep in Bristol.

Bristol Yacht Club.

Clam digging.

New England scene.

Last week I saw sheep, clam diggers, tankers, swans, mussels, a donkey and so much more. In the middle of winter.

Share your discoveries!

Happy walking!

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »