Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Remembering Mom


Mother's day has come and gone.

The weekend was crammed with activities, and I didn't have much time to reflect on the occasion.

Often a highlight of my weekend is a visit on Skype or Facetime with one or two or more of my children (and sometimes grandchildren)

As a mother of six, plus the sons and daughters-in-law, and a fine selection of "Kids-on-loan,"I have been overly blessed.

To my own parents, I was a trial most of my life, the black sheep that was "never going to to amount to a hill of beans".
This is the last picture of my mom, taken in 1983 with my dad.

By that time, my own wonderful children were beginning to show that, though I might be lazy and stupid, I had managed to raise an exceptional group of kids. How proud my parents would have been, were they alive last week, to hear the news that my daughter, Marie, had been selected by the Massachusetts Commission on the Status of Women, as one of the Commonwealth's "Unsung Heroines in 2017" Selected as "A woman who, without fanfare or recognition, uses her time, talent, spirit, and enthusiasm to enrich the lives of others"
In a ceremony at the Massachusetts State House next month she will receive a citation from the Governor.

This news put a special glow to my weekend, and indeed the days that follow.
Friday I was off to "Cub Camp", where I was to manage the leather working station for the Saturday program.
After an evening of prep work, I woke to the sound of rain. Well, rain had been expected. The crafts went well, as did the rest of the activities. My pack cleaned up on the awards in spite of the weather and after a box-oven cake, I departed the campsite so that I could make an early departure on Sunday for choir. I had to warn members too keep a distance because I was still reeking of campfire smoke.

Norie and family showed up for a dinner to celebrate the day and I have been enjoying the leftovers.
With Leia, we had some good rounds of a game of number twelve dominoes. (using the old set I once played with my granddad.)

As for quilting, it runs in the genes.

This "Storm at sea" quilt was made for me by my mother.

Believe it or not, I was allowed to chose the pattern and storm at sea remains one of my all-time favourites.

The strange thing is, though I also chose the fabric, I hate pink.
I selected it because I was such a tom-boy and I thought I should have something a bit more feminine.
Actually, green and blue were the colors I liked best and probably would have made a spectacular quilt.
By now I now know how much love goes into a quilt and the hidden blessings.(and maybe hopes that someday I would straighten out and fly right.) It is a piece of my mom's love that was there all along.



This morning, on the step-tansu above my bed, the orchid cactus had begun to bloom.

This one has become so big and top-heavy that I worry about it falling off the step.


Having been on the run since Friday, it was time to make the rounds with the watering can.

I notice several other cacti in bloom and a few that were "stealth-bloomers" while I was out in the woods playing with the boys.












Two cacti above the white cat have flowers  and this halo of pink has been the start of the blooming season for many years.

It needs re-potting as it keeps growing toward the sun in the south and no matter how often I rotate the pot, it is in dnger of tipping over as it leans.

Trouble is, that is a spiny little sucker ... and I don't know how to go about re-potting it. Maybe I need to take it to a store that sells those and get advice.





Another orchid has begun to open outside my garden door.


This one is a rescue and just tucked in among the spiked fronds of my umbrella palm.

The Spanish moss also came with the orchid.

There are a couple dozen more flower buds getting ready to follow.














And ... hanging from my laundry pole, is another item rescued from the same garden as the orchids.

It looks like  it might be some kind of begonia.

Behind it is a very heavy ball of Staghorn Fern.
That was an earlier rescue from the same garden and luckily made it through the winter. ... I think I brought it in a few days when we had snow, and hung it from the shower curtain bar.
It seems to be happy here outside my window.

Tonight I caught the train home as usual, around 8:pm ... and as usual it was a sardine can with barely any room for one's body above the feet.

We rode one stop and at that station, everyone was required to get off. The train stood empty a while and finally took off  and as trains came and went in the other direction, the platform became more and more crowded.

Finally, another train pulled in. Of course it was already crammed with people and since I was one of the last off the earlier train, standing in the front, I was shoved into the already packed car by those waiting behind. There weren't even enough hand-grips to accommodate that multitude of commuters.
Hard to believe that there are times when I can actually sit and do a bit of piecing during my rides into town and back.
No explanation of why the train was removed from service so I will probably never know.

Well, time to give Nikko her late night walk and take out the trash for tomorrow's collection, and get my stuff laid out for school tomorrow. That is one routine that isn't likely to be interrupted.