Sunday, September 03, 2006

my mom's favorite poem


Bee-sleepy, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.
In an e-mail this morning, Mom sent this picture. It was taken in her garden yesterday afternoon. If you look closely you'll see a bumble bee nestled in the nasturtium’s bright orange blossoms.

Mom's favorite poem is "The Daffodils" by nineteenth century poet, William Wordsworth. I'd like to think if William Wordsworth had come across this serene scene, he might’ve written an ode to nasturtiums instead.
The Daffodils
by William Wordsworth.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Rainy Days and Mondays Sometimes Get Mom Down

My mom is retired from the job she held for 20 years. Her new job is to enjoy life. And she mostly does, except when it comes to taking care of the Irish Setter my parents inherited when my sister moved out.

I received this post in my e-mail this morning:

You have heard the song [Rainy Days and Mondays]. You may also share that familiar feeling as well. Though I don't live anywhere near a river or lake, I have had a small creek flowing down my driveway at various times. Weird weather, weird times.. The air is getting colder, ummm, not unlike our very cold late Spring temperatures. Sure I know, the Fair starts tomorrow, and what would the Fair be without the rain?

The garden is winding down, the rain has beat some of my lovely flowers to a tangled mess. Happily the majority of my flower friends are still giving me a glorious display. If you had hoped to stop by this summer, whelp, the show is about over for this season. The tomato plants in the greenhouse are turning yellow, sadly, the tomatoes themselves are still a lovely shade that I like to call "fried green tomato". No, I have never actually fried green tomatoes, but have seen the movie many times, maybe even enough times to give the recipe a try. And the raspberries, good Lord, how can one pick all of them before they rot or fall on the ground. Sheesh... I also did manage to mow the lawn yesterday, one of only "2" kinda sunny days in the last 2-1/2 weeks. (I have dog stuff on one of my lawnmower tires, from the dog yard to prove it.) But I digress...

The Grandgirls are great. Paige is my raspberry-eating girl, Lilly prefers strawberries. I had borrowed Paige's bucket from the toy box the other day and used it to pick some berries. When Paige saw it, she gave me a pretty stern
look. All was forgiven when she spotted the raspberries I was sharing with her. Now you and I know that raspberries will sometimes have small critters, bugs to be exact. Paige was enjoying her bounty that she didn't even have to pick herself, when I hear this ear piercing scream. I came around the corner from the kitchen to see Paige shaking both her hands, and shrieking something unintelligible. So Grandma saved the day, removed the offending leaf (not a bug this time), and my darling went back to consuming her beloved berries. When her mom came in later that day, and took a couple berries, she came into the kitchen to wash an actual bug off. Meg spells "b-u-g" so Paige won't know. Paige looks at me and let's me know that her mom is "washing a bug". She didn't need to know how to spell it to guess what her mom was doing.

Some of you are wondering "how" I am doing these days. Well, mostly fine, but it seems that retirement has intensified some tendencies. Take temper for instance, mowing the lawn/dog stuff. The conclusion I come to, at that moment, is the dog must die. A bit overstated, Lizzie is safe, no worries.

My wonderful man asked me today if he could make a suggestion about chicken soup without me going over the edge. Sad he should have to ask, but truly, he did need to add the addendum. The suggestion was good, and I didn't have to forgo chicken soup making for the next 20 years. I remember years ago, when I had purchased Thom a pair of marvelous moose hide slippers. They had this elastic strip across the top that held the slippers snug on ones feet. Thom made a statement like, "the slippers are a little tight." I told him I could help that and proceeded to cut the elastic with scissors. Of course, they no longer fit, cause they were too lose now. (I really wasn't sorry for dis-membering the slippers at the time). I have been pretty good for a lot of years, keeping my ornery self too busy/stressed to act up. Well island time/menopause has allowed some of those tendencies to come back.

So mostly I am pretty excellent, sometimes my "tourretts"comes out. Like yesterday, I am washing the window with a very long extension tool and it slips. Most of you have never heard me use the words that came out, and inanimate objects can not be offended, so why do that. (Ok some of you have heard me say them, a couple of times). ... Anyway, it was just there.

So, today I am just here. Missing you all. Wishing you love, laughter, and good times.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

my mom's garden

There are few things in life Mom enjoys more than her garden. She literally spends the entire summer outdoors tending to it.

This summer Mom's garden was part of the garden club's annual show.

If Mom had a blog, she'd post her garden show pictures on it.


Garden Tour, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.



Angelica pod, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.



Poppy, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.



Delpheniums1, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.




deone, originally uploaded by mymomssecretblog.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

about my mom’s secret blog

So my mom does this thing.

She writes blogs, like full on writing-like-you’ve-got-an-audience type stuff. And she absolutely loves it—my mom and blogging, they’relikethis.

And I realize that the concept of a mom writing a blog isn’t exactly original. (Hello Dooce.) But what my mom does with hers is pretty unbelievable.

I guarantee you’ve never seen a blog like my moms.

Mostly because it doesn’t exist.

Yep my mom doesn’t have a blog—at least not one that’s been properly published.

My mom writes blog posts all right. But then, instead of publishing them online, she simply e-mails the copy to family and friends. Once read, the orphan post simply lives in the inbox, collecting digital cobwebs.

I’ve talked to mom about this a lot. “Mom,” I say, “why don’t you just set up a blogspot and actually post this stuff you’ve already written?”

She tells me she plans on doing it eventually, but I can tell the idea of interfacing in technology is a little scary, because she quickly changes the topic to her tomato plants. “[Sneaky Pete],” she says, “you won’t believe it, they’re eight feet tall!”

And I do believe it. My mom nurtures those plants just like she did for me and my siblings.

This is My Mom’s Secret Blog. It’s a secret because she doesn’t know about it. I want the world to relish Mom’s musings. So from my inbox to the Internet, that’s where her blogs are going.

And lucky you, you get to read it all here.

If my mom had a blog it would be a lot like this one. I hope you enjoy it.

What's so secret about my mom's blog?

Well, first off, she doesn't know she has one.

*Learn More*

    mymomssecretblog (at) yahoo (dot) com