And Moonglow Magnolia was her name....

Thank God I am beyond child naming years.  If  I had a daughter,  I might have had to name her Moonglow.
Sitting under an old, twisty magnolia...every branch unfolding with plate-size creamy, dreamy blossoms.  And it is evening. The sun sets and the scents rise.  I'm a lucky girl.


PS.  I just realized this is another post about a tree.  Yikes.

It's a Tree Thing

I think I've always had a thing for trees. (See post below). As children, my friend Miki and I were late for school one day because we performed a marriage ceremony between two trees...one had a protruding 'pregnant' bump so we thought they should be joined in matrimony in case any unexpected saplings arrived.  And I've already talked about the Tall Pines.  What I haven't mentioned is my morning bath shared with a tree.  I am a bath taker, really do not like showers at all. There have been studies regarding the differences between bathers and shower takers....but I digress.
So every morning I sit in my soaking tub and look out my window at a huge maple that fills the entire frame.  Living in Wisconsin, my backyard tree changes with each season dramatically. And this is how I measure and see the passing of time.  During Autumn, I treasure the blazing reds and oranges that greet my day.  Throughout the long Winter, I see the huge squirrels' nest perched between the stark, black limbs blowing in the gray gusts and feel if that squirrel family can hold on and make it through what seems to be an endless parade of cold, dark days than I can as well.  Then slowly but surely, the green fuzzy glow begins to appear with the budding of Spring and before I know it, the tree is fully dressed in bright green leaves and I have no clue what the squirrels are up to.  It's officially Summer.  Somehow, I am comforted by this visual daily record that confirms that today is different than yesterday, again and again.
PS.  Nobody has ever commented on this blog site, which makes me think these really are Notes to Myself.
If anything strikes you, please share so that I know I am not chatting with a cyber black hole.  Thanks!

Happy Anniversary Darlin'!

Today Matthew and I celebrate our twenty-eighth year together...this is the anniversary of our first date, which we celebrate more enthusiastically than our wedding anniversary.  The photo accompanying this note (one of my favorite shots of all time) is a picture of Francina with her husband Wib taken shortly before his unexpected passing.  I think we are about the same age as they were at the time of this photograph.  What vitality and joy and sense of adventure we see shared between the two of them.  Made all the more poignant knowing how fleeting it was for them.  So, looking at this picture makes me aware and incredibly grateful for the here and now, our good health and the laughter we continually share as we trip through life together. I picked a good one.

Sixteen Candles, No Cake

We had the pleasure of celebrating our youngest sons', Ben's, sixteenth birthday this past weekend.
 One apple cobbler, two coconut cream pies later, and the fete was complete. What a guy!

'Stab 'em in the toe, Punch 'em in the chin! (Or how to successfully run a mogul field, one bump at a time.)

I liken skiing down the mountain to my son's trumpet solos or my husbands guitar riffs. It's something singular I do and it thrills me.   My ski of choice, K2 'Burnin' Luv's', act as one fine tuned instrument, like a race horse ready to charge so they keep me On My Toes the minute I head downhill.   For years, I have spent the majority of my time skiing the groomers, runs that have been groomed  into congenial surfaces, to accommodate my husband's skiing style.  When I turned 50 last year something changed inside of me, the Burnin Luvs and I were ready to come out and play.  Part of that fun, was spending time on the black diamond mogul fields with my two teenage sons and kidful older brother.  Reacquainting my self with huge nonforgiving  hardpacked snow 'bumps'  on large vertical slopes almost did me in until my youngest son gave me a strange but surprisingly helpful tip.  As I hesitantly kept swinging upward with my body (a deadly no-no in the bumps) Ben, my 16 yr. old, said, "Mom, when you face the fall line and plant your pole, pretend there is a dwarf in front of you, stab him in the toe and then punch him in the chin."  The next thing I knew, I was headed down the slope, chanting the 'stab/punch'  mantra and it worked!  The most unnatural tendencies, to face downhill on fast moving surfaces and to throw yourself forward punching something in front of you in the middle of a vertical obstacle course,  were actually what I needed to do to gain control of my run.

 This year I was back on the Burnin' Luv's and found myself thinking of Francina and some of our shared life lessons in the most unusual circumstance.  It was after lunch (the hardest time to move, ski and breath due to the lack of diaphragm space and high altitude) and I chose to ski with Ben, and my intrepid brother, known as Uncle Robbie.   As we all three took off in a blaze of cruising speed, I followed where they led and then questioned my sanity when I heard my brother say to my son, "Let's go do Lovers Leap and Ollie's run."   Hmmm.."Lover's Leap?" I repeated, with trepidation out loud, "Oh don't worry, you don't have to leap,  you can just ski off the ledge" assured my brother.  And then we got to the ledge and I made the mistake of looking down.  "Nope, this doesn't feel like me." I declared, shaking my head.  The longer I looked the surer I became.  But then I thought about all the little lessons on my 'Francina's Calling!' bookmarks like saying 'yes', and 'choosing to participate', and 'choosing faith over fear', and then I made the 'leap', which meant for me sliding off the ledge and holding my breath as I headed down a bump field situated in between signs warning 'cliffs ahead' posted along my right and left.  I was not handling things well until that little mantra came back to my head, and I started 'stabbing and punching' my way down the mountain.  By the end of the run, I felt at one with my skis and incredibly thrilled with my accomplishment.  I ruefully smiled and thanked my brother for the extra push and faith in me, and my son for skiing behind me as the 'pick up the possible Mom pieces' guy and we moved on.   I discovered a new life lesson along the way... if we choose to 'act with purpose as oppose to react with fear' facing life's twists, we might actually find our way through them and emerge stronger on the other side.
 Burning Luv Mama signing off.