A Victory Garden

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Smithsonian Library Cultivating America’s Garden

Last week’s discussion explored the silliness of buying and discarding plastic, and how to STOP. Reader’s comments that they reuse glass jars instead, does make more sense and I’ve adopted the practice.

My friend, Pat, suggested buying laundry detergent sheets on line. She’s mentioned this before, and now I’m ready to listen. Those huge plastic containers are difficult to lift, store, and estimates say; take 450 years to decompose in a landfill. Carol, my Wordle consort, said fabric softener sheets are the way to go.

Clean People offers both laundry and softener sheets at reasonable prices on line.

But when Johanna quoted a daughter-in-law’s plea “TO SAVE THE PLANET,” I conjured numerous images in my head. Eleanor Roosevelt was among them, and although she crusaded for many causes her Victory Garden stands out for me.

“Victory gardens (originally called war gardens or liberty gardens) made their first appearance during World War I (1914–1918). President Woodrow Wilson called on Americans to plant vegetable gardens to ward off the possible threat of food shortages. Americans took up the challenge as a civic and patriotic duty.”

The idea wasn’t new, but Eleanor gave it momentum because people began one by one to plant a garden. And nosy neighbors, not wanting to be unpatriotic planted one too.

“In 1943, with World War II underway, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt had a victory garden planted on the front lawn of the White House—just one of the millions of victory gardens planted that year. Staged photographs in seed catalogs and instructional manuals often showed women and children tending victory gardens. The message: abundant yields were possible for any aspiring gardener. Today, the Smithsonian’s Victory Garden flourishes on the 12th Street side of the National Museum of American History. In the summer, the garden showcases heirloom varieties of flowers and vegetables that were available to gardeners during World War II.”

There are numerous Save the Planet organizations. All of them do good work, but none have resulted in a grass roots effort to get us to STOP USING PLASTIC. Perhaps. . .you and me can spread the word.

                                                                               . . . just saying

P.S. Don’t look to me for a Victory Garden, in Florida our soil is sand, and if the deer don’t eat it, a rabbit or bug will.

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Plastic. . . That’s What We Need to Talk About

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Remember the movie The Graduate? It was released in 1967 and has become more relevant over time. One scene kept flashing through my mind as I read an Associated Press newspaper article* about the future of plastic. It’s a graduation … Continue reading →

A Cozy Life

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BEL AIR FINE ART Studio Saint Tropez France

Cozy, that’s the genre I was recently told my novel fits. So, I got out my thesaurus.

Cozy implies; pleasant, comfortable, homelike, conversational, intimate, happy, or blissful.

Basically, without stress. I’m done with laser fast pace plots that make me pull my hair out. Novels with shock endings, or the reader is left hanging, or the ending is just bazaar.

How about you? What genre do you enjoy?

Today, the 147th day of the year, I asked myself, Do I have a cozy life?

Yes, despite the numerous daily challenges. My husband was rushed to the hospital last Sunday. I say he dodged another bullet, and fortunately home on Tuesday. Then Bob’s brother-in-law died and his family of origin is creating chaos. Their primary complaint and I quote, “Nobody told them (seven siblings and their mother, who are less than 10 miles away) he was in the hospital.” We are 1200 miles away. The man died on his BIRTHDAY!

Then there is the mundane. The electricity on the patio stopped working, the inside of the dishwasher is rusted and leaves orange marks on the plates. But the plates are clean. And the sprinkler system turns on in the rain. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m still walking crooked.

But, let us not loose perspective, I’m not living in the Ukraine, nor with the despot, Putin.

Although the three-ring USA political circus is about to begin.

We are constantly being shocked by world events, and the media’s attempt to report a breaking big story, interrupting TV shows and stunning readers with inflammatory headlines. There is so much conflict, hate, and turmoil in the world, please don’t let it spill into entertainment, give us a break.

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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Words Matter

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Does every word count?

Writers think so! They think grammar and punctuation does too.

Discussions about a comma can be endless. Even a pause makes a difference to a writer. Remember Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County?

However, word choice trumps all of that, and has greater value or impact today.

But, writers are schooled to use actions verbs.

This is when a thesaurus is worth its weight in gold.

Instead of hate. . . a writer might use, dislike, prefers, or never cared for. Instead of angry he could choose, annoyed, upset or bothered.

For example;

                    John hates people who wear purple underwear.

                     John dislikes people who wear purple underwear.

However, both sentences have a problem. John is being targeted, not his underwear. The person hates yellow underwear. (I have no preference about other people’s underwear or if they wear underwear. However, . . . I cringe at the latest fashion, t-strap bikini swimwear.)

I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the point, what you say has power.

Man sentence for Murder, a story in this Sunday’s Daytona New Journal, got my attention. After reading the article I felt sorry for the man.

Here’s what happened. Joel Tatro told James Z. Powell, 15 at the time, he was not invited to and had to leave a gathering at Tatro’s home in 2019. Powell left and came back and shot the homeowner. Paralyzed from the neck now, the homeowner lived for three more years, then died from COVID.

James Z. Powell chose these words to express his condolences to the Tatro family.

Quote from the newspaper. “But this situation was never supposed to happen. This was a COVID death, sir. I never had no intention of doing no harm to him. I’m not the person that they are trying to paint me to be. I’m not a criminal. I’m not a gang member. I’m just me.

                                                                                     

. . . just saying

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Mothers are precious- Happy Mother’s Day

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Just saying. . .I enjoyed these quotes about Moms. . .Happy Mother’s Day, Claudia

Sadje's avatarKeep it alive

WQ #19: May 10: MOTHER’S DAY/ROYAL PURPLE

Logo by Donna @ Retirement Reflections

Sweet mother

I remember

Your scent vaguely

Your face dimly

Yet in my heart

You’ll always stay

Forever young

Forever present

I am that mother

Always ready to impart wisdom

My daughters are wonderful moms

Yet they listen to my advice with patience

They may follow their own inclinations

But they do recognize that I’ve been a mother longer

Want to share – go to mom

Want to learn- go to mom

Want a hot meal- go to mom

Want a shoulder to cry on- go to mom

Want to have fun- go to mom

Mom is always there to give support

She can be whatever you need at the time

➰➰➰

In response to;WQ #19: How Appropriate is Royal Purple for Mothers?, hosted by Marsha

#Keepitalive

#WQ

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Why Do the Things We Do

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What Day Is It?

Today is Saturday, May 13th , the one hundredth and thirty-third day of the year. We’ll be half way through 2023, on day one hundred and eighty-two; and there are forty-nine days until we reach that milestone, July 1st..

Why these snippets of information are important to me, I’m not sure. Never the less, every morning before getting out of bed, I mentally review the date, the day of the week and things I must do.

Does anyone else do this?

This morning, I smiled, grateful for no have to list. No doctor’s appointments, pick up this, return that, or stopping by. Which meant, no; where did I park the car, leave my cell, or oops, I left my credit card and bags in the car.

Why not head to the beach? Because, I can’t take the sun, the water’s still cold, and there are no lifeguards.

 Instead, we watched the movie The Summer of 42, on TCM, at 7am in the morning. Both of us had been awake since 5.

Why do I care about forty-nine days from now and the year being half gone? Well, we know time will start to fly after July 1st., and the holidays will be here and gone. Blink and it will be 2024, and we’ll all be another year older.

I have been working on my first novel for ten years, and have a zoom session with the editor/publisher and illustrator on Monday. There will be many must do lists in my future and hopefully some fun.

But I feel the days slipping away    

                                                                                      . . . just saying

P.S. Optomobility update; The eye doctor prescribed eye glasses with prisms to correct my walking cock-eyed. I’ve never heard of this cure. Have any one else?

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No Time To Write

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Optokentic and Optomobility

It’s true . . . I really don’t have time to write.

Today, the one hundredth and twenty-fifth day of the year, is a typical example.

Having slept well, I woke chipper and chanting, thank you God. Then, prepared coffee and my favorite breakfast, an English muffin with cherry jelly. I gathered my phone; computer, clipboard and the right pen and pencil, and sat outside to enjoy the morning air and Wordle.

On the first attempt, I had 3 correct letters, none in the right place. One hour later, I had 3 letters in their right spot, but was still missing two correct letters. So, I asked my husband for help. However, we were interrupted when a pint of blueberries fell to the kitchen floor. Sweeping them up was like playing blueberry pool, and yes, I rinsed and put them in the box. None of them had been squashed.

 I can’t remember what time it was but, a downpour occurred, and I scurried outside to retrieve my phone, computer, clipboard and right pen and pencil from being soaked.

I was frazzled and hadn’t brushed and flossed, yet.

Do you own a toothbrush recommended by your dentists with a timer? I live in fear of his eyebrows being raised on my next visit.

Another reason I don’t have time to write is doctor’s appointments.        

For years I believed Vertigo and/or sinus infections were the cause of my incurable balance issues. Turns out, it’s not just vertigo that causes my wobble walk, but Optokentic and Optomobility.

What is that?

To put in layman talk . . .dancing eyes. I my case, it’s my right eye that flutters and sends a mixed message to my brain. Consequently, my legs don’t know which way to go.

The cure? Watching Youtube videos of strolling through a grocery store or Muir Woods, without moving my head.

I am optimistic there will be some relief.

The last reason I don’t have time to write?

I have an editor/publisher for Morningside Drive, the novel I have been working on for ten years!

                                                                                    

                                                                                      . . . just saying

P.S. I hope things are going well at your house.

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Obsession or Procrastination

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The Days of My Life

Is decluttering an obsession or a form of procrastination? Regardless, there is no time for writing. Here’s my latest pastime, finding a home, not mine, for the perfectly good items I no longer use or want. Like; a Garmin, or the shower head that was replaced, or curtain rod brackets. I save the plastic containers strawberries and other food items come in. I can see what is in each box and they snap shut. But, do you know how much effort and time goes into removing the old labels? There was no time for new labels. That’s on next’s week to do list. I probably won’t have time to write. Besides it was garbage day.

I am preoccupied with getting my house in order, i.e., fixing the outdoor water spigot that spits water in my face when turned on, or replacing the entrance way light bulb twenty feet above ground. Do you know anyone who will come to my house with a ladder? I am willing to pay.  

Is it anxiety? Some people take a pill, and that is fine. I scrub, run the sweeper, and organize. I want the towels folded just right and my underwear stacked by color in the dresser. My life is about tidying-up, and how did get to be so?

Perhaps it’s about control. The world has become chaotic. We wake up to another mass shooting, unprovoked invasion of countries, and weather disasters.

I want hospital corners on the bed and the pillows fluffed.

                                                                                     

. . . just saying

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De-cluttering

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The Days of My Life Series

One night last week I could not sleep. Well, that is not totally true. I slept until 4:30 am and could not get back to sleep; probably because the handy-man was coming to install more shelving in the closets. So, I got out of bed at 5:30am.

Since I was up so early there was time to do the daily Wordle, before emptying the closets. I am hooked on the word game. Now I have something to look forward to in the morning. However, I debate whether to press play before my first cup of coffee, or wait until later in the day. Once it is done, the thrill is gone. . .though the satisfaction lingers. My friend, Pat, said she has gotten out of bed at 12:01am to play. Sounds like an addiction, that might be called wordling.

Please, tell me your thoughts and Wordle techniques.

Let me go back to the shelving, which cost more ($500.) than the labor, but was well worth the expense. Now I have every single cleaning product in one place. I know where my winter coats are and an extra shelf in the primary bedroom for storage. The garage attic, although pathetically small, is empty. I still have stuff to get rid of, like six boxes of photo albums. Nobody is dying anytime soon, but I don’t want my clutter to be someone else’s headache.

                                                                                      . . . just saying

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