Happy Mother’s Day to you all…women who have mothered children or pets! I hope you all have a special day filled with love and family! I’m blessed to be here with my family on a bright sunny Sunday…there’s no place I’d rather be!
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, who I’ll be visiting this afternoon. Thanks to her for raising me and guiding me through the hardest times of my life. Her sweet little prayers have gotten me through and I am very grateful for her!
Here’s a call all the way south to Florida to my mother-in-law, Theo. Happy Mother’s Day to her..a strong soul with so much love and support for her family. While we raised our sons, she supported and love them as they made their way. Her and my father-in-law Bob were loving involved grandparents and I am very grateful for them and their role in our boys’ lives.
Many women have learned to live life with fear, either by being taught this or by being immersed in the fear cycle through emotional or physical abuse. I’ve always been fearful…starting as a little girl I was afraid of anything and everything. To this day I still need to remind myself that I’m stronger than the dark cloud of fear and that I can overcome it! I’m tired of the pattern it knits and how it makes me feel inside.
What has helped me tackle it is trusting God and riding the storm with his sheltering umbrella over me. It’s not to say that it creeps up now and then, but it keeps these feelings at bay and under control.
Recently I had to venture alone down south on busy route 93 to pick up my son close to Boston. I had scattered fearful thoughts of what if…my car breaks down? What if I get in an accident so far from home? When ever I go alone, fear invades my every being but I squash it and say to myself that I am confident and strong. For I am!
Fear stunts growth and keeps a person stuck in negativity. After acknowledging the fear, I let it go. I challenge its foundation and embrace strength instead. This is all part of my growing journey…an exhilarating triumph to see it for what it is and squash it entirely.
I’m not saying that all this inner work is easy for its not…sometimes life’s events will happen and jar my strength and then I am back to the drawing board. It’s constant work to remember that fear only lives when one gives it life, wouldn’t you say? I would rather give energy to strength and confidence. I can’t wait until the day I bid a complete goodbye to this work, but until then I’ll strive to do better.
As I write this, I think of another plaguing insecurity of mine is jealousy. I’ve planned on writing a post on it in the future and hope you all can lend me a hand on my journey by encouraging my removal of it from my life.
Thank you all for your friendship and love. I never could have imagined the incredible people on word press that have contributed to my life. I consider many of you dear friends, although we have never met, we share many hopes and dreams and hurts.
I published this in May of last year and I just stumbled upon it once again. I’m going to repost this as it speaks volumes of self esteem and pouring oneself into writing as therapy. All of these words still hold true to me and I wish that you can find therapy and healing in creativity, in whatever forms you create. Whether it be writing, painting or drawing, gardening, baking….it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you DO these things to heal your life scars.
Do you have fond memories of your growing up experience that stay with you always? I think we filter certain memories, some we keep deep in our heart and soul and revisit for a good smile from time to time. Others we tuck away untouched as they aren’t so pleasant to think about.
My maternal grandparents lived in a quaint hamlet called Union Village, Vermont just down the hill from Thetford and bordering Norwich Vermont. Just minutes from Dartmouth College and hosting the Union Village dam, this tiny town holds much history for my mom and our family.
My great grandfather Roy Gould lived in a little house on the cusp of the bridge. His son and wife, my grandparents, lived next door to him, two lots away from the bridge. As a child I thought their back yard was sprawling and huge. It sloped down to the river, one of my favorite playgrounds as a child. Years later, as an adult, I revisited this neighborhood only to be surprised that it was much smaller as I had remembered. I guess this happens to us all…a view from a child’s eyes looks vast and expansive and shrinks tremendously when you’re grown.
One vivid remembrance is when our family scooted the car down the hill into Union Village. I would dread the trip over the bridge. Sometimes us kids talked about the infamous encounter miles away, an expected thrill and scary few moments. Upon approaching the crossing, dad or mom (who ever was driving or on the trip) would stop a few feet in front and honk. It was a tradition to honk the whole way through to warn other cars so a fender bender could be prevented. An exciting rush went through me. It was scary but an exciting adventure as well. Sometimes I closed my eyes tight and wished to be through it. Others I watched the dark tunnel as our driver honked through.
What a memory! To this day, when I do visit Union Village I still honk and put my lights on to glow and pave my path through. I don’t hold my breath or close my eyes but I’m brought back in time in the 70’s when my grandparents were still alive and living near the bridge.
I truly hope you all are healthy and well. Enjoy the week God has given us!
Our cat Smokey watching the best picture show in town…a flock of turkeys investigating our yard. This was snapped last year , at that time they visited every single day. As they visited, some investigated this side of the yard while others hung out near our towering pine tree on the opposite side of the house.
Twenty or thirty of them would strut and sometimes close to the window!
Smokey continues to love his picture show, watching flocks of turkeys, flitting robins and perky chickadees in a nearby tree.
As winter is supposedly making its last call, I am recalling events of this past season. I spent a bulk of the season sick with a flu, pretty much weighing me down and leaving me stuck indoors. Although winter was tough to get through, I do have a pleasant account of a visit to the Ice Castles in Lincoln, New Hampshire.
Lincoln is about 45 minutes from us south on route 93, a place we frequent throughout the year visiting one of our favorite Chinese restaurants, Chieng Garden. They serve delicious and fresh food, without MSG. We also used to go to Lincoln to watch Dylan’s baseball games .Those days are long gone but still strong in our memories and hearts.
It’s been a few years since people started talking about the Ice Castles. This year I told myself that I would buy Tom and I tickets and just go, seeing what all the hype was. I’ll tell you that if you are ever in the area in the winter, it’s an amazing sight but a little disappointing towards the end of the season.We went the first week of March, probably a little too late. I would recommend going in January…just bundle up and experience an outside wonder. Also the tickets were expensive totaling $35 for two.
Upon entering the parking lot of the monstrous frozen structure, I have to admit we were a little disappointed. We had to visualize it looking as a castle. To us, it appeared melted and worn down and the structure just looked like mere ice. Even so, we gathered our hats, gloves and my camera and gave it a try. I had longed to go for years and the least we could do was check it out once. Sometimes that’s all you need to satisfy your need and then you never need nor want to do it again.
A narrow walkway with flowing icicles actually was magical but drippy. That made me nervous as I envisioned chunks falling as we walked through. But thankfully it was all in my mind.
Hundreds of people flocked in the court-yard. Children played and slid down magical slides. Surrounding speakers belted out elevator music, supposedly enhancing the experience. We could’ve lived without it, you were not going to experience peace here with all the gathered people. I’m sure bringing children and grandchildren is more fun, seeing glee and happiness through innocent eyes.
I thought of how they created the ice castles. Tom said they have water guns to shoot the water up and it ices up right away. It looks like a lot of time and hard work involved.
I thought the interior sides of the ice castle resembled frozen waterfalls, rushing down and stopping frozen in time. It was a magnificent sight against the beautiful March sky. As we walked around the main court, Tom and I were quiet. I think there are moments that call for peace and quiet, to absorb nature. Although we were hushed, many family voices rang throughout and you didn’t reach a peaceful state. I think it would’ve been better with fewer people so you could reflect instead of trying to ignore all the noise.
This was one of the mini slides with two stalls for wee tiny children to scoot down. I can just imagine how magical it was for them under the iced structure.
This was one of the rooms in the ice castle bearing a big fountain in the middle. It’s hard to see from my picture, but actual water spewed up from it. It chilled my insides just to see it, but it was amazing.
We were in the ice castle for probably a half hour. Perhaps most families spend much longer perusing the man-made wonder, while their children coast down on slides of sparkling ice. We were discouraged from the long lines at the slides and otherwise I would’ve given a go for laughs. It was an experience we can see we did…finally taking part in something many north country people have done. Tom and I decided that it was our last time because we had seen it first hand . Some events you only need to do once and in my opinion, this was one of them.
With this post, I officially say goodbye to winter. I’m ready for spring, with that said all weekend we had snow and freezing rain. This morning is a two-hour delay, a treat for a Monday. I’m having an extra cup of Joe and spending valuable time blogging.
I hope you all have a great Monday where ever you are!