This is a word I am very familiar with although I did not know that was what the word used to describe the situation. I cannot tell you the number of times I have trouble finding the word for something or someone. Its right on the tip of my tongue and I can actually see who or what I am thinking of, but I cannot remember the word or name. Does this happen to you? I am guessing it does because it is such a common thing that they have an actual word for it.
Eventually the word does come to me, usually in the middle of the night, but I have seen it take several weeks. Not that long ago Cindy and I were trying to remember the name of mom's Avon Lady. She had taken up selling Avon after mom had quit. Her name should have been very familiar to us both, but do you think we, either one of us, could think of it. We could not. It was a blank in both of our minds.
It took several weeks for the name to surface and when it did, it came up like a bubble in a bath. There it was. Plain as day. Marie Cress. DOH! And then it as if I had never forgotten it. And I doubt that I will ever again.
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I am one step closer to having my front garden sorted. Dan went out yesterday and picked up all of the cedar chips and the ground cover for it. Its on the front deck waiting for him to begin when the weather starts to cooperate. It's quite cold at the moment. -5 this morning.
At least I hope it is still on the front deck. You never know in this town. There are a lot of thieves about.
I have in mind to put a bird bath in the center, which might also attract butterflies. They like water. And then several large pots that I can put annuals in. We will see how it goes.
I had beautiful Peacock Butterflies in my garden in the U.K. We had a Buddleia bush in our back garden and in the warmer months when it was in bloom it would be covered in these most beautiful butterflies.
They were so much fun to watch and so beautiful. At any given time there would be half a dozen or so sunning themselves and drinking in nectar from the blooms.
Butterflies are not so common as they used to be. Sad really . . .
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Remembering when my two little munchkins used to fit together into their basket in front of the living room window. Now Cinnamon fills it to overflowing when she gets up into it. It is a favorite perch of the both of them. They each seem to take turns sitting on it and watching the world go by outside the window. Chippy is back so this week they have been enjoying him. And I have been getting chickadees and goldfinches at the feeder so they are enjoying them also.
And Eileen is enjoying the cats. She is going to get a cat when she gets her own place. She has been trying to think of names to call a cat. She wants a girl cat that is a year old. I think we decided on the name "Willow" yesterday, but you just never know.
Oops! Are you talking about me?
I don't know where his sister is. She is most likely having her after-breakfast nap underneath my bed. They sure sleep a lot. There is the after-breakfast nap, the mid-morning nap, the pre-lunch nap, then the after-lunch nap. Mid-afternoon nap, pre-dinner nap, after dinner-nap, evening-nap and then its party on until morning time.
Love them both so much.
Next year I will mark 20 years of writing a blog. I was checking back this morning and my very first blog post on blogger (when I called my blog A Year from Oak Cottage) was back on the 1st of June in 2007. I posted about the weather and the life in our cottage garden along with a recipe for lemon curd.
I heard a bit of a fuss a few nights ago and looked out to see a fox in the garden, which might explain why the two baby bunnies we had been enjoying nightly have suddenly disappeared."
When I think back on all of the experiences and things I have enjoyed in the ensuing years tis pretty amazing at the journey I have taken in all that time. In writing that first post I had no idea of where the days and years would take me. What an interesting ride it has been.
I think I will always write. I am a writer at heart. It is what I love to do. And I do it for the fun and the joy it brings. The way it inspires me to exercise my brain. I have always loved stringing words together, and that is all that writing is. Stringing words together.
It still amazes me that anyone comes to read them.
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Life is a journey and its pretty wonderful to have this somewhat of a journal of mine cataloguing the last 20 years or so. I was watching Leave it to Beaver the other day and his father had given him a diary to write in as Beaver had said that he wanted to be a writer when he grew up. I could certainly identify with that ideal as I felt the same way when I was a child.
On his first few pages, he writes. "Got up. Ate Breakfast. Went to school. Had lunch. Came home from school. Had supper. Went to bed."
This goes on for a few days, but then he decides that it's kind of boring so he starts making up adventures and writing them down. Things like walking on his hands on the railings of the bridge in the middle of town, etc. Just to make it more interesting.
And then one day he is late coming home from school and his parents have no idea of where he is or what he has been doing. They decide to check out his diary to see if they can find out any clues. They pick open the lock are appalled at all the things he's been up to.
They end up confronting him when he does get home and tell him what they have done, but are really relieved to find out that it's all been made up. And then they are ashamed that they betrayed his trust in checking out his diary. But Beaver is completely okay with it. He's just excited that he has a father who knows how to pick a lock!
I love that show. In many ways it reminds me a bit of my own childhood, except my parents were not June and Ward Cleaver and we did not live in near as nice of a house. But I can identify with a lot of the situations and experiences and feelings shared on the show. It's what I call "nice" television.
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What a pretty little cottage this is. I can just imagine what it would be like to live in a pretty place like this. I can almost hear the birds singing and the bees humming as they flit from white bloom to white bloom. Some people are just so very blessed.
But really a home isn't what you see on the outside is it. It is the people who live within it's walls and the lives they have built. A safe space. A place of joy and contentment, no matter how pretty or practical it might look on the surface. You could have the prettiest house on the planet and that would not make it a home.
When I was a young woman I used to love to sit and make plans and to dream about the home I might one day own. I could spend hours planning and dreaming . . . in between taking care of kids, housekeeping, cooking, laundry and taking care of the home I did have. I wish I had known then what I know now.
A home is not the four walls that surround you, but the love and the lives that they shelter, no matter how humble or beautiful that the four walls may be.
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I don't have many plans for the day except to knuckle down and get my talk written for Sunday. It is supposed to be based on the theme of Love One Another. I have had two months to write it. I have gathered a lot of thoughts over that time and references, so now I just have to pull it all together into some semblance of a talk and hope that I will say whatever it is that the Lord wants me to say. I have always found that the person who learns the most when I give a talk at church is myself. And if that is the only one who feels inspired, then that is enough.
In any case . . . today is the day. Eileen will be out for much of it so I will have lots of peace and quiet in order to concentrate. I don't have a meal to prepare as we are going out to supper with dad as per normal. (And Eileen is looking forward to that.) So all told a pretty quiet day and perfect for correlating my thoughts into something which hopefully will not put people to sleep.
And I finally had a half decent nights sleep as well. Lately all I have been getting is one hour spurts. Last night I managed to get more than five hours straight without being woken up.
Eileen said she would pray for me, and I guess it worked. 😊 She will be happy to hear that when she gets up.
A thought to carry with you . . .
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*We have not inherited the earth
from our fathers.We are borrowing it
from our children
~native American saying
In The English Kitchen today . . . Herb Oatmeal Pan Rolls. Incredibly easy and quick to make. Delicious too! Soft, wholesome, and full of homemade flavor. Made with oats, two flours, and a buttery herb topping, they bake into tender pull‑apart rolls that are perfect with soups, stews, or enjoyed warm with butter.
I hope you have a beautiful day today. It is saying on my weather app, rain/snow ahead. Sounds interesting! Whatever you get up to, don't forget!
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And I do too!
