What a Difference a Week Makes

Last Sunday about this time, I was sitting in the Clear Creek Wilderness, with a sweater on, admiring the beautiful oaks and pines. After a day of hiking and riding, or just relaxing reading a book, we were getting ready to start a fire, and roast marshmallows.

This Sunday, I am hunkered down in my house, all the doors and windows shut, trying to keep out the 110 degree temperature.  It is so hot that you can't walk barefoot outside.  All the plants are stressing and the dog is sitting under the cooler vent.

This is the beginning of the summer in Phoenix.  Only two and a half months and it will be nice again.  So I am looking on the bright side.

Yesterday's Flower

This afternoon, as I was doing my dishes, I noticed on the far end of the window sill, my African Violet was blooming.  Many times, I have bought one 
but without fail, after a few months they died.  This time I also bought a special pot, actually a pot within a pot, water goes in the outer pot, the plant in the other, and you just check the water when you think about it. I purchased this plant while I was displaced from my home when it flooded last October.  As long as it lived, it was a symbol to me that I would be o.k.  I packed it around with me until finally I was back home.


It reminds me of my Grandma.  She always had African violet plants, sitting on little white doilies and they were always blooming.  I remember the violets, and purples, and even white blossoms.


My Grandma had moved around quite a bit.  Originally from Latvia, she lived in Baltimore, Philadelphia, then Montana, and finally Utah. She was an old-fashioned lady in every way.  So this old fashioned flower is a tribute to her.

Southwest Winter

It's a chilly morning. It rained throughout the night and the desert dust has been washed from the garden.  All the fruit is sparkling with raindrops.   The sky still is overcast, but the sun is trying to break through.  I must remember these days, for in the not too distant future everything will be shimmering not with rain, but with the intense heat of summer.  The days will be long and hot, and this morning will be a pleasant memory.

Not What One Expects

Today, on the way home from the store, all four lanes of traffic had come to a stop.  At the front of the line on my left a  pick up hauling a large trailer had stopped.  Its driver, a large burly construction worker waved at me to stop.  My first thought, there had been an accident or some one was hurt, but no--a little brown dog, maybe part terrier and Chihuahua visably upset was running down the middle of the lane.  As I stopped, and oncoming traffic stopped the man shooed the dog across the traffic lanes and onto the sidewalk.  When the pup was safely on its way the driver climbed back into his truck and the normal hustle of busy traffic resumed.

Kindness  is shown when you least expect it, and from unlikely sources.  I think that we often judge people by looks and not actions.

Turn the Page

Monday I began a new journey.  I retired from work.  This is a new beginning, a new adventure and with it comes many questions, and a sence of expectance.  This new page is uncharted, and as of yet, I don't know the direction that it will take, and how I will write on the new blank pages.


I want them to be filled with wonder.  I want them to be fun.  I want them to be productive.  I want them to be memorable, not only for me, but for those around me.


I have goals, and a plan, but it is flexible, allowing me to experience the unexpected.  Wish me well, as I begin to write this next chapter of my life.