Bridge Club

I am purging. I am shedding. I am getting rid of stuff that has followed me around for many many years. I have my stuff, my kid's stuff and some of my parent's too. It's normal for a woman my age. My kids are helping and their more modern attitude of shredding and pitching is an obvious result of one fact: their parents did NOT grow up during the depression. Mine did.

This process has had many hilarious moments. "Mom? Really?" I have heard it over and over. going through these things has also stirred up some wonderful memories, those tenacious thoughts that are velcro-ed to old stuff long packed in a box, away from everyday life and attention. It's interesting how the most common items can bring a flood of laughter, tears and stories. And it fascinates me how many common household items are now unrecognizable to the next generation. Times change.

"Mom, are you keeping these? They weigh a TON! Why would you ever need them?" The card table. A simple device, it quickly becomes the child's table at a big family dinner, (and I did come from a big family, all those cousins...double cousins too!) Set up in the kitchen, it makes a great surface for drying those delicious noodles that only a mother can make, or a perfect place to create that watercolor or other work of art on a rainy afternoon. (Resourceful mother) Sales table at rummage sale, I can go on an on. But this middle age woman 's memories ran straight to the chief purpose and name sake for this piece in the storage room, Bridge Club.

My mother played bridge. Like thousands of other women her age, in her time, she belonged to a card club. They took turns entertaining their friends, round robin-ing their visits to each other's houses, dressed to the nines and ready to win. I simply loved the nights my mother had bridge club. I looked forward to it and I committed each night to memory. These ladies seemed so sophisticated and chic. They wore hats, they drank cocktails and some of them even smoked! I was named after one of them. It was sublime. My little sister and I would hide at the top of the stairs and watch this social event until we were forced to go to bed. I would silently pray that they did not eat all the bridge mix and salted mixed nuts. They would gently stir their mixed drinks with colorful swizzle sticks and decide what to bid. It was a place in time, an institution, and I loved it as much as my mother. I remember.

"But Mom! Really! They weigh a TON!" Happily, our memories only weigh on our hearts. We can carry them with us and they won't take up much room. Those same swizzle sticks sit on the wet bar in my kitchen. I look at them and smile. And the card tables? My own card tables I have carried for 30 plus years? I'm not getting rid of them just yet. I might need them. You just never know.

The Nana Club

April 1st I joined the Nana Club. My first grandchild was born that day. His birth date was appropriate; he was not due for 12 more days and I had planned my show season remembering that neither of MY babies were born on time let alone early! My daughter called the day before, kinda stammering around that maybe these contractions meant something. I packed my bag. I kept working. Later, when she called and said they were going to the hospital, "just in case..." I put the bag in the van. I was pacing when my son-in-law called and said "It's a go!" I drove off and my life has never been the same.

I met this little fella when he was 20 minutes old. He looked around, he looked adorable. I totally fell in love the first time I saw him. He was tiny, but a complete replica of his Daddy. And he was my first grandchild. Bliss. They brought him home and I was fortunate enough to be asked to help settle them in. It was a Nana's dream, helping her daughter embrace the most important and wonderful task of her life.

Back home, my friends welcomed me into the Club. The queen of babies, friend Deb took me out for dinner to a perfect lady's place and introduced me to online photo albums and modern breast feeding stuff and all the upcoming joys of my new station in life. Older sister and my original teacher about babies, Patti filled me with wisdom and brought back memories of our babies together so many years ago. Naturalist and earth mother friend Maria delighted me with anecdotes about her own new grand daughter as we virtually danced about the computer with our delight! More friends poured out of the woodwork with their good wishes and over and over said the words "There is nothing like it..."

It continues to be wonderful. I accompanied my grandson and his mommy to the Nature Center at their state park last Friday. He is old enough now at almost 4 months to decide what he likes and is interested in. He bounced and stared and cooed over the squirrels at the bird feeder and in the pictures in the exhibits. His eyes and head followed the turtle as it swam back and forth in its little tank. And he bravely looked out through a porthole in the shipwreck exhibit as if to see his future unfold. That was in my mind anyway, because I am a Nana.

I watched him an entire day by myself while his mommy ran the market in town. We played, we cuddled. We had bottles and we burped. We laughed and we made plans. We talked about plants and leaves and felt bark for the first time. We found our first cicada shell. And we vowed to teach each other every single thing we know. It was a wonderful, simple, normal day, but I will never forget it.

About 4 months ago I joined the Nana Club. And you know what? There's nothing like it.

My Grandson

Trips to the dunes must inspire me. a year ago, I saw this canoe in the early stages of completion, while touring the Nature Center in the middle of its renovation. Six months ago I visited during the cold cold winter and happily anticipated the birth of my first grandson. Needless to say, I have made a bazillion trips up here to see him since he was born on April Fool's Day! Time to write again...a lot has happened in the last year.

Today, my daughter and I took Asher to see that Nature Center, all finished and remodeled and receiving company. We marveled at the exhibits and I carried him around and showed him each one and told him how they were not ready a year ago! I was very interested in canoes last year at this time, and look at us here, sitting in that very birch bark canoe that we first saw a last summer, half covered in tarps in expectation of display for children just like him.

Asher is interested in everything. He particularly loves animals and pictures of them. Today at the Nature Center we saw the squirrels outside at the bird feeder and then a picture of one on an exhibit. I held him up to the turtle cage, he peeked at garden snakes. We climbed around on the exhibit that explains ship wrecks and we even let him peek through a porthole. I firmly believe that he enjoyed it as much as his mommy and I did. Seeing the world through his excited and curious eyes is beyond description. Having a little one to take places like this and show the wonders of this beautiful earth is a precious gift. His mommy grew up in wonderlands like this, in state park after state park. And so did his Nana. My Dad took us and engendered a love of nature and its exploration that still fills my soul with sweetness. I will be sure that my grandson is similarly blessed.

Winter at the Dunes

What a difference a few months make. My last post was written in the warm summer months. My good friend Gail and I were visiting my daughter and walking on the beach...

I just returned from four days in the same area during some really cold weather. Wind chills of -17 degrees kept us from walking the beach and watching the beautiful sunsets but they also gave us a deep appreciation of warm fires in the fireplace and delightful knitting lessons with friends.

Cold temperatures keep us in and cozy. We talked, we cooked and we tried to fix each other's knitting. (Now how did she do that stitch?) During the summer we are in the middle of work and production, ramping up for the coming busy season. This time of year we are looking back at the just past Christmas season and planning the upcoming year. How wonderful to sit by a warm fire, count our blessings and anticipate the wonderful changes that will naturally come with a new baby in our midst!

Yes! I am going to be a GRANDMOTHER! I will be visiting this outpost a lot this coming year!

Visit to the Dunes

When you step on a beach the world goes away. My good friend and gardening guru Gail Woodruff and I drove up to Indiana Dunes State Park for a visit with my daughter Allyson and her husband Brandt. He is the property manager of the the park so they live on property. We ate, toured the park with Allyson as our guide, inspected a local plant and garden store (of course!) and ate some more. As dusk approached, we went down to the beach to watch the sunset. And, as always, it was wonderful.

I am not sure what kind of magic happens when you take off your shoes and step into the sand. It wraps around your toes. It is so different from the lawn and sidewalk of everyday life. You sink in a little and by the time you draw near the lake, the cares of the day have left you and disappeared into that soft blanket of warmth. The water reaches into the sand as you get near the lake. There are small treasures left by last night's tide; polished rocks, beach glass, bits of wood and hardly recognizable discards.

We wander, we pick up this rock, we decide against that one. We have one eye on the sky and now it's time, the sun is tired of this day. Time for it to rest. We sit upon our blanket and we stare happily as the colors gather. The sun slips lower and lower, we talk, we laugh and then we see it, that precious moment when the sun is there and then pops magically into the water. I always wonder how many people from the dawn of understanding have watched that moment and felt that little gasp escape their own lips. Nature and the universe, the earth and the sky, such a beautiful moment and we shared it. Magic.

Back to the beach house, more talking and welcome sleep. The Dunes have given us another wonderful memory and I will treasure it. I will keep it tucked in with the heart shaped rocks and the bits of colored beach glass. They are all wrapped up together in sand.

The Monarch's Dance

The monarchs are back at my place. I have had swallow tails, painted ladies, and all other kinds of fluttery beauties but I love it when the monarchs come through. My butterfly bush and Joe Pye weed attract them. They come singly, in gregarious groups and preoccupied couples to sample the nectar. Last Sunday I stood out there in the yard near the butterfly garden and just watched. I edged forward carefully. The couples flew around me, swirling, dancing touching each other and narrowly avoiding me in their delight. They land, they flutter near each other and then dart off to another blossom head. I am totally invisible to them, just another plant or tree or pillar to swerve around as they glide in the next round of the dance. I can't tell you how wonderful that makes me feel to be so accepted as part of the landscape. I have finally fit in.

Life on Rabbitville Road has been filled with watching the seasons ebb and flow this year. I have taken time off from writing and have gotten serious about cleaning up my yard and garden. My camera has become my constant companion and I spend each break in my workday wandering around the yard catching this nature spirit or that in full bloom or unselfconscious action. I began my journey of observing this spring. Each new sprout of plant and each set on bud was a new friend to me, or the renewal of an old acquaintance. I cherished their growth and encouraged them with pails of water, mulch and fresh soil. Every week brought new plants into bloom and I reveled in the daffodils, the dogwoods and flowering trees, the holly hocks, the lilies, the hydrangeas and now the hibiscus...color, always fresh color, and a soothing smile for my soul.

Along with the flowers came the stirring of life in the pond. The ice went away, the frogs started moving and the fish surfaced. Insects started flying and crawling about and soon I had dragon flies. A pair of black snakes mated on my front deck. Turtles passed through. Baby toads the size of my little fingernail hopped out of their pond and jumped all over the yard. They scattered as I innocently crossed their path. And I observed. I watched their normal daily activity and embraced my own. Like all of them, I began to live again.

Valentine's work

we are getting snow. and snow and more snow. I am ready for spring! I have been hard at work sculpting pieces for my Valentine collection. they are so much fun and i love the colors. the pinks and reds really brighten up this time of year.

I can't wait for spring to get here!