MY POETRY

I've been in a bit of a "funk", if you will, lately. I recognize the signs and know when to let this "sadness" have it's way and when to move on. I'm nearing the "moving on" stage and it feels good. I did, however, put into words how I was feeling today. This is one of two poems that made way into my brain this morning. Sadness is a heavy thing - so read at your own risk. I'm putting it out there because it is what I need to do - for me - to move on - so I can smile - easily - again - soon.

Sadness

A sadness knocks upon my door
Blown in from some distant shore
Asking bravely to enter in
Seeking someone to befriend.

I don't want this "friendly" ghost
I don't want to be the host
To a feeling that's quite bold
One that leaves you feeling cold.

I attempt to close the door on him
Trying to ignore this pushy friend
And turn my sights to brighter things
Of promises that Joy can bring.

As I note the contrast of the two
As different as the dust is from the dew
The choice seems so crisp and clear
Of the one to draw near.

But joy lets sadness have it's turn
For she knows that she will spurn
His little tryst upon my heart
And in his place she will dart.

And thus I've come to realize
As I look thru saddened eyes
That joy is but a smile away
From her foe any given day.

So I focus as best I can
On joy's gifts, those at hand
And bid farewell to sadness here
And cling to joy's treasures dear.

Crickett

Sunshine and rain melting the snow . . . . . .

. . . . . . from the last few snow storms has . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . reduced me from this - a gorgeous gal, happy and round . . . . . . .

. . . . to this - just two twig arms, two cherry eyes and a carrot nose upon the ground!

"Happy Birthday, Jessie!"

It's hard to believe you are already 23 and have a little one of your own! I remember all too well when you were that age! I hope you had a wonderful day today.

I love you!
Aunt Crickett

My "Heirloom" Quilt

Heirloom according to Webster:

1. (n) a family possession handed down from generation to generation

2. (adj) being an old variety that is being cultivated again

One of my favorite things is to peruse antique stores. I am a wonderful window shopper! One of my favorite places to visit here in Hebron was a place called Cheryl's. The girls called it "the Blue Store" because of its vibrant (and I mean vibrant) blue color. They liked it because she had candy at the front and there was a shabby chic display in pinks and whites. Just for them it seemed. All pretty and some glittery.

One particular day I was in there by myself (rare). Some of the booths had been rearranged and the shabby chic section was moved across the "isle". As I'm sauntering along something caught my eye - something in the shabby display - just hanging there. It was a quilt and it seemed terribly familiar! Now, I generally don't shop fabric goods, especially quilts. They can be quite pricey. But I couldn't help myself with this familiar object. I walk up to it - it is sooo familiar. I pick it up, I turn it - I examine it - I can't believe it! There in my hands was my quilt! The second quilt I ever made in my life - I was not even 20 years old when I made it! How could this be? I call my sister, Donna, and asked "what should I do?". Cheryl wanted thirty dollars for it - a bargain for sure - and my sister wanted to know the condition of it - not so good - so. . . long story short - Donna suggested I not buy it. Oh, I was devastated, and - reluctantly agreed. After she hung up, she talked to Greg and he said I should get it, no matter the shape, it could become an heirloom. Donna called me back to re-advise me - but too late - my heart had made my mind up to get the thing - my quilt - my hard work.

I told Cheryl it was my quilt - this I knew for sure. How could I know for sure - the fabric - the aqua blue check and the brown stripe in particular. The check was from a dress I made in Jr. High Home Ec and the brown stripe was from a shirt my mom had made my brother when he was young. (mom made a lot of our clothes) I recognized other fabrics, but these two and the backing were the things that said "I'm your quilt!". As I explained these things to Cheryl, she was flabbergasted! (she wasn't alone here) What I didn't know was how she ended up with it. She said she had purchased it at an estate sale on Riverside Dr. in Fruitland. Now, my dad lived in Fruitland. We had a yard sale after he died to get rid of some of the stuff he had. Could my quilt have been an item sold at that yard sale? I will never know the answer to that question. but what I did know was - I was standing there with my quilt in my hands (that I had to pay thirty dollars for)!

Now since it is my quilt and I haven't passed it along yet, is it still an heirloom? To me it is, because I'm sure my mom helped me. It has pieces of her in it. We didn't do the traditional quilting because we didn't have a quilting frame, so I "tie knotted" it. That was another identification factor. The pattern is called "Grandmother's Flower Garden". Fitting isn't it?

I feel the quilt has come full circle - if objects can do that. It found it's way home and reminded me of simpler times - times with my mom and times I should create with my daughters and grand daughters. Of times I can't bring back but thru memories.

"Happy Birthday, Kristoffer!"

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

4 years old and quite handsome already!

We love you!

Love,

Aunt Crickett. Uncle Bob, Ben

Rease and Helena, too!

xoxoxoxo

"Charity"

Charity according to Webster:
1. generous actions or donations to aid the poor, ill or helpless
2. Christian love; agape

I love the verse on my side bar today - 1 Cor. 13:1-3

Sometimes I think I get all caught up in the law of the Word that I forget the most simple of things. I can have all the gifts God has to offer, but if I don't give of myself - my time, my money, or my love - what earthly good are these gifts? Who will they actually benefit? Who am I pleasing "owning" these things if I don't give from the deepest part of myself? I don't want to be the package all wrapped with a pretty bow - and be empty inside. I think giving from the depth of the soul only heightens the gifts one has to offer. It is a difficult thing for me to do - pulling from deep inside the things that are, for me anyway, the hardest to share - no - give. But, if I can focus on these things consistently, maybe, just maybe, I can embrace and accomplish this very unique verse.

"The Igloo"

During our last storm Ben went to Pierce's house to play in the snow. I got a text from him with some cool pics of the igloo that he, Pierce and Pierce's room mate Matte were building. His words were: "This is what happens when grown men play in 20" of snow." It is a cool thing!

He took Rease and Helena to see it yesterday and take some pics for me. It is about 10-12 feet tall. The girls thought it was wonderful. I think it would make a great playhouse!

The Loose Tooth

In childhood, it is a rite of passage to lose teeth. It is a must - it confirms that you are growing up.

Rease has (had) a loose tooth and she worked on it all day long. She wiggled, she pushed, and she pulled on it. It was painful, but she was determined to win the battle - and of course, there is the "monetary reward" at the end for such a struggle. As she is struggling with this tooth she looks at me and kind of giggles and then says: "I get all hot and things go up my back." ? ? ? okay . . .

I don't normally write about lost teeth unless there is something unusual about the incident. Other than her little tidbit of info on how wiggling that thing made her feel, it was pretty much run of the mill tooth losing (if there is such a phrase).

I really didn't pay much attention to which tooth it was, other than to note it was on the bottom.

She managed to get it out just after dinner. We were kinda worried she might eat the thing.

When she popped it out and got it cleaned up, she brought it to Kelly and proudly showed off her trophy. As Kelly is looking at this she realized Rease had lost her "fused" tooth (teeth). She had two baby teeth come in that were fused together! Even the dentists were impressed when they saw it (them) - it is apparently a rare thing. Rease didn't care - two teeth - double the bounty!

Tooth Fairy even makes out - she can pick up two teeth in one! ! !

The picture isn't super clear, but you can see the indent at the bottom and the two root caps at the top.

My Poetry

"The 'Blizzard' of Two Thousand Ten"

This is our little "blizzard" of two thousand ten

One that we thought might never end.

It dumped upon us a great deal of snow

Never - no mind - we might have some place to go.

With strong gusty winds, blowing a gale

It caused for some of us our power to fail.

But we hunkered down for the long haul

Cozying up together, the big and the small.

And when the raging storm winds did calm

We could see all the white stuff - like a blanket, a balm.

So outside we hustled to play in the snow

For soon we would wonder - "where did it go?"

Some of us will grumble, some will groan

No good will it do you to whine or to moan.

So enjoy it's beauty, or as much as can be seen

For the next time we blink, we'll be staring at spring!

Crickett

"Ground Hog Day"

Just a few moments ago as I was checking my email, the home news page had "Punxsutawney Phil" from PA on it and I made mention it was Ground Hog's Day. Guess who is sitting by me? You've got it. Helena. So long story short:
Just as I make mention of the little guy, he comes on TV and Pop-pop calls her in there to see him. She of course wants to know about this ground hog that she imagines in our zoo and why he's "there". So I, being the wiser one (or so I thought), explained to Ms. Einstein that he predicts the weather. And in her matter-of-fact voice, as she looks me in the eye, she says:

"I thought God predicted the weather."

It certainly is difficult trying to explain a fun iconic symbol with such a dubious task to a practical 5 year old who wisely credits everything to God! I proceed to tell her he really doesn't - we are just playing - like a game - hmmm. . . . not so easy . . . . the right words eluded me, but she got my drift.
So starts my morning - blessings do come in small packages and at the most unexpected times! :)

By the way - six more weeks of bad weather ~ according to "Punxsutawney Phil" ;)

January Snow

We had a beautiful snowfall this past weekend. What a way to say farewell to January! It was so beautiful that I thought I might try my hand at some poetry.

She quietly made her way to town
Effortlessly, silently she hits the ground
She has a mission, 'tis plain to see
To blanket the earth for you and me.

Her presence brings a child-like awe
And we can't help but to recall
Those tender years when we were young
When thru her whiteness we would run.

For some, as we stare upon her face
It takes us back to a distant place
Where our hearts so long to be
Tucked warm amidst our families.

Yet as her blanket starts to fade
And as we cling to memories made
Beneath her whiteness, beyond our view
Quietly lies the promise of all things new.

And just as silently as she came
She leaves us all, we're not the same
Within us a calmness she has placed
And the result - 'tis the smile upon our face.

Crickett