Susiej

My, my this world can look dreary once the trees show their branches and the grass turns as gray as the sky. When the sun is obscured by the clouds, our blue clear lake reflects nothing but gray right back at us. But just when all is gloomy and dreary, these swans fly in. Last year there were two; this year there are four swans.  Their arrival puts them just in time for Christmas, and in the way that we deck the dreary world with holly and evergreens, the swans deck the lake in pure, pristine white.

You can get an idea of the size of these swans are by looking at the size of the geese. The geese are obviously trying trying to rub elbows with the swans, just hoping some of the swan’s beauty will rub off on them.

Yet, they don’t hold a candle to the grace, majesty and beauty of these swans.

This is my best and hardest shot of the weekend– because it was difficult to keep my eye on the lake, and when the moment finally did arrive, I had to drop the rake to grab the camera at just the right moment when the swans were flying.

They flew in a big circle, heading off towards the woods, and then arcing around towards the house.

The swans are a nice reminder; like the dreary world outside, these swans were once ugly ducklings.

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Filed under: Life, best shot, the lake house by SusieJ - 7 Comments →

Such are the dreams of little boys in the midst of raking leaves.

The leaves at the lake were so thick and so deep that they brushed against our knees as we walked. You could say the leaves were 3 feet deep. This is a big job. In years earlier we have “hired” this job; the result is 110 bags of leaves.

We worked for two days, using every available drop of the few hours of sunlight we had up here.

At one point, I actually heard these words: “Mom, it never gets that hot up here anyway… we don’t need the shade — let’s just cut these trees down.”

The good thing about shorter days in the winter is that your work day is short. The bad thing about short days is that your work day is short. There were points when I wondered if we would get them all raked in time – on this one and only weekend we set aside for this task.

So, they boys raked at night too. Nine to eleven last night.

The boys worked hard. So hard. Sometimes, the power behind having four boys come toghether astounds me. I’m savoring this moment. There is nothing quite like the feeling of having a job like this behind you.

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If you look closely at the glass here, you can see my doughy fingerprints all over my morning cup of pumpkin pie in a mug. I was busy making Thanksgiving rolls, while I sipped. I was thirsty… for that.

While I rolled the dough, Tom, our kindergartener’s turkey, stood watch. This work was just long enough time for me to remember the words of Maya Angelou. Yesterday, I just happened to have some quiet alone minutes in the car to hear her talk about gratitude, and how important it is to have a grateful heart. But she went further to say that when we give, we receive. No news there — but she added something else. “When we give, we give so much more than we will ever know.”

More than we’ll ever know. Given the heart-felt week we’ve had here, those words are ringing through my head like a train — and my heart aches for all of those upcoming moments when they will want to say one more thing — but they can’t.

You can’t help but ponder Angelou’s words, and realize how right she is. Think of all those people who stepped into your life while you were growing up, who offered just enough encouragement to keep you going. Or, think of those sweet simple smiles and sticks of gums that were handed to us as children. For me, many of those people no longer walk this earth, yet they still walk across my heart every once in a while just because of what they gave. Knowing that it goes on forever, giving something each day can become an effortless way to live.

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Filed under: Tears, memories by SusieJ - No Comments →

The box is full of the stuff a daughter collects from her Mom’s house after she dies; the stuff she’ll never have the time to do anything with, yet wouldn’t dream of letting it go.

“Must do something about that stuff,” I say every day as I have walked past the box to the washing machine, for the last four years. This is followed by a pang of despair, knowing I will never find the time, nor do I want to make the time. The box overflows with black and white photos, vintage greeting cards, report cards from the 50s, and out-dated deeds to properties that have passed through the hands of my ancestors.

Often, I wonder, “Is this the 50 Things that experts say I should throw out to get rid of all of my emotional clutter?” Probably. But, I can’t bring myself to do it.

My dream is to collect the box and its contents into one big album, each photo protected by archival-quality photo pages (which I already have.) First, there is the issue of finding a suitable album cover that I like, of course. Sorting through these archives, I estimate, will take me weeks, or months, of focused, concentrated effort. I imagined starting the job, and people inviting me to go shopping, and I would have to say, “Sorry, I’m in the middle of a big project right now…”

Sometimes, though, I am ingenious. Out of desperation, I turned this little project into a “job.” I offered my 11-year-old $40 to get those photos into archival photo pages – “I don’t care what order – and get them out of the box. Go! Get it done!”

Except, he wasn’t interested.

Then, I realized what a simple task this really was. So, I took a chance, and offered the job to my 7 and 6-year-olds. They had quite the opposite response. They would love to earn $40 (half.) They were thrilled. So, I handed them the box, and I pulled out handfuls of photos and guided them as to what they were supposed to do. They picked up fairly quickly. They had the job done in 20-40 minutes.

How did that happen?

They were efficient. Like my friend says, “They were unattached, emotionally.”

It was nothing for them to take a stack of photos and slide them into pages. They didn’t stop to look at the faces and try to figure out who they were, or ponder about the day my parents got married – and did they ever dream what their future would really hold?

The boys even figured out that they could stack two photos together, back sides facing, and slide them into the pages – doubling their productivity.

They also called my attention to a few items I had no idea were in the box.
Like these War Ration Books.

Just try explaining “War Rations”  to a 7 and 6-year old, while your mind is off drifting to the past, picking up threads of long, lost forgotten conversations; wondering why in the world you didn’t pay attention when she tried to get you to look at this stuff years ago.

The boys were happy to do this job for me. They surprised me with their lightening-speed, and they were pumped full of pride that I was so delighted with their stellar performance.  Save for a few more loose ends (need more archival pages), the box no longer waits at the bottom of my step.

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Filed under: Life, boy, memories, try this by SusieJ - 3 Comments →

Seriously, tonight this dessert drink counts as a health food. The pumpkin makes this drink full of beta-carotene, right? It’s been a busy week, and other than lots of pomegranates, we’ve been a little lax on the fruits and veggies this week. So, along with our take-out pizza, I whipped up this pumpkin pie drink for dinner. I’ll warn you in advance, there’s no way to resist this cup of comfort. Each cup is filled with freshly grated nutmeg, ginger and comfort spices — you can make it in one big batch, store it in the fridge and drink it all week. Here’s my best shot of the drink.

Here’s the recipe for 6 servings:

• Six cups of milk. Soy or cow’s milk. Optional on the whether you use 2 percent or whole. If you want something really decadent, use 3 cups half and half and one half milk. We used 2 percent only, it was very good.
• 2/3 cup of sugar. (You may need less.)
• 1 cup pumpkin puree. Canned, or fresh. This is a great way to use up left-over fresh pumpkin, if you have a bit left-over from your pie.
• 2 tablespoons vanilla extract.
• 1 teaspoon grated nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon grated ginger
• 1 teaspoon All Spice
• Cinnamon & Sugar for sprinkling on top
• Whipping cream, optional.

Method:

1. Combine all ingredients in a large saucepan.
2. Heat on low, stirring constantly until sugar is dissolved.
3. As soon as mixture comes to a simmer, remove from heat and serve in mugs.
4. Whip up whipping cream for top, and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar.
5. Store left-overs (seriously, call me to help you finish) in the fridge for breakfast.

P.S. Hubby says the drink needs Captain Morgan’s! Of course it does.

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Filed under: eat, holidays, try this by SusieJ - 7 Comments →

Courage, and blinders. The two ingredients you’ll need to see the end of life as a celebration. Courage allows us to feel the hurt, while simultaneously letting the joy seep into our hearts. Blinders came in handy too — you’ll need those to stop yourself from looking beside you to see that the next steps will be taken without her.  With the blinders, we can look behind and see what grew on the path when we weren’t looking.  There are now trees, (huge ones) flowers and lush things growing where nothing was blooming before — just because of the path she took. That’s the kind of permanence we’re really looking for.

Her absence faces my boys at school, and they are grappling with the vastness of the void she left, in the flesh. It’s something they can’t comprehend. My 6-year-old now calls Breast Cancer “Breath Cancer.” I’m not correcting him, because it does take your “breath;” and the breath of everyone around. I wait for the various ways the boys are processing this to tumble out of their mouths, and I am in awe over the depth of empathy they have.  But there is confusion and fear. There is the sense of feeling “out of control” and how can breath cancer be stopped.

Today, if they bring it up, I will focus on the awe-inspiring legacy she left, and show them how to stretch their hearts a little bit to see the celebration in the sorrow. The place of honor.

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Filed under: Life, Tears, boy, parenting by SusieJ - 4 Comments →