Tuesday, August 4, 2015


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This is the word that comes to mind when I think of my garden: abundance. When we moved in almost six years ago, there was very little landscaping, and most of it was willy-nilly. We are by no means master gardeners, but my husband and I share a passion for growing things. And, we don't mind watering, which is key, especially the first two years while the root system is maturing. Every summer day feels like a blessing, but when I look out my window or venture into the yard and see all this, I feel that life is…well…abundant!

I'm beginning to wonder if I should change the name of my blog to Hydrangea Hill.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

It's Summer, Y'all!

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I love all the seasons, but I live for this time of year. No, I'm not being dramatic. It's really true. What teacher doesn't live for this time of year? My summer break began officially on June 19th, and it's been a whirlwind so far. Actually, it was a whirlwind even before school let out.

1. A five-day trip to Los Angeles to celebrate oldest "baby's" USC graduation in May. She now has a master's degree!

2. A three-day jaunt to NYC to celebrate not one but TWO of my students' Scholastic Art & Writing success. They won shiny medals and lots of cash! And, a brief visit with a best friend in her Brooklyn brownstone.

3. A week on the boat and visiting with family in June.

4. A week of lunches with friends and one (only one!) summer work day. No pictures of THAT, thank you very much.

5. A week on Lake Michigan with our friends from Chicago.

6. A trip to D.C. to hear the lovely and all grown up Taylor Swift.

7. And now a few weeks at home, the place I always long to be. I am a homebody at heart. I love my porch and my living room. I love my kitchen and our gardens. I love the sounds of my girls laughing and watching a movie in the basement or slip-sliding in the backyard. I love hanging out on the patio while my husband grills a steak. I love taking loop walks (we call the 4.5 mile trek around our neighborhood The Loop).

I'm not sure what the rest of summer will bring. Normally, we head to the Outer Banks for a week, but we're foregoing that this year. We were just there in April.

OH, but these pictures do make me want to go back!

I hope you all are having a great summer. I have missed this blog world. I hope to post more and visit blogs and maybe squeeze in a project or two. Today's home improvement involves washing the mildew off the shower curtain liner. I will spare you the gory details on that one.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Believing in Blessings

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At the start of the year, I began a new early morning ritual. Rather than listen to NPR or music on my way to work, I turned off the noise and started counting my blessings. Now to be honest, this is difficult some mornings. Most days I get up at 4:00 AM to write before going to my teaching job. By the time I leave for work at 6:30, I am bleary-eyed and not feeling grateful exactly.

While I love NPR and regularly read/watch the news, too many sad stories so early in the morning left me anxious and tense. So, I stopped listening and started counting. 

First on my list? Um…body lotion. That's right. Out loud I say to God, "Thank you for body lotion." Sometimes I include Dove soap and Diet Coke and cinnamon raisin toast, too. This isn't where I start every morning, mind you. I've started with a book I'm reading or an especially good night's sleep or getting some task I've been dreading behind me. Once I thanked God for my hoop earrings. I love hoop earrings.

I don't think God minds my quirky prayers. Maybe He finds me weird or funny? Anyway, I move on from these silly things, of course, and list the more important blessings, like my girls and my husband and my dogs. I try to be very specific. I don't know why being specific feels important, but I say my children's names, and I list certain kinds of flowers or trees. 

A few weeks ago, I spent the first three miles of my commute being thankful for my grandparents. Now my grandparents have been gone from this world a very long time, but I'm not sure I had ever thanked God so sincerely for giving them to me in the first place. This prayer made me weep, but it felt good, like Granny and Cogy and Grandmother and Granddaddy were right there in the car with me.

Just yesterday I caught a peek at the moon early in the morning. As I glanced out the bathroom window, a cloud passed in front of it. Yep, that went on the blessing list. It was a gift to catch that wisp of a cloud on its journey. I've thanked God for the radiance of light on the water, for cardinals on my bird feeder, for Fit Flops, lunch meat, and good poets.

My blessing list doesn't solve my problems. It doesn't make me glide through my day with any greater patience or forbearance. But it does make me feel in touch with God and with myself for a few minutes at least. And if we are too distant from ourselves, can we be close to God anyway?

At the end of my prayer, I ask for forgiveness for my many shortcomings. I ask for strength and protection. I also ask God for the things I want in life: a new book in print (it's been five years since Penguin published my last one) and guidance about certain work dilemmas and help with raising teenagers while also working with teenagers.  

A few weeks ago, one of my friends posted this Bible verse on her Facebook page: Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. Mark 11:24

Life is tricky and hard and messy and inconvenient. This modern life involves too much running around and not enough time to get my head on straight, and this is what I'm working to change, one little blessing at a time. 

P.S. God, I am really thankful good blogger friends and for throw pillows. There is really nothing quite like a cute throw pillow.

Friday, May 1, 2015

Fifty-something Stuff

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Today's post is unusual for me. I don't normally share really personal things, but since colon cancer claims approximately 50,000 lives per year, I thought writing about my colonoscopy experience might prompt someone else to have the screening.

Don't worry.
This will not be a graphic post.
It will be an honest post.

Why did I do it? 
Like other routine exams, this procedure is recommended for people over fifty, younger if you have a family history of colon cancer or symptoms. If your doctor finds a polyp, he/she can zap said polyp with an electrical current, right there, on the spot, while you are having the best sleep of your life. I fell in the fifty-plus category.

Another reason I did it?
This procedure saves lives, no question about it. And I have children and a husband who love me. I want to be around for a good, long while. If not for me, for them. I want to be around for me, too, of course.

Why else?
Because I'm one of those people who feels guilty and/or worries when I know there's something I should be doing that I'm not doing. Today, I officially crossed this guilty-worry off my guilty-worry list.

What to expect?

1. Quick doctor visit for the initial consultation and an exam that did not require undressing. I suppose this could be different with different docs, but this visit was easy and not at all yucky.

2. I was able to schedule the actual procedure for two weeks after the consultation. Was I tempted to push it farther into my future? Yep. But I also know there is no good time for a colonoscopy. Like, maybe I'll wake up in July and suddenly be in the mood for a colonoscopy? No way. Scheduling it sooner rather than later gave me less time to dread the procedure and possibly chicken out.

3. My procedure was scheduled for 11:00 AM, which meant I had to arrive at 10:00 AM. You start the bowel prep one day prior to the actual procedure. On the day of the colonoscopy, you'll need to take the whole day off. No cooking. No cleaning. No driving. No work.

4. Prep day began with a cup of yogurt. That's it. No toast or eggs. Nothing. Nada. An entire 24-hour- plus period of no food, unless you count ginger ale and chicken broth as food. Like I said, prep day is the worst part.

5. You have to take laxatives. A LOT of laxatives. My instructions said, "a 14-day supply of Miralax." And that pretty much means what you think. In the serious medical language of my doctor, "You're gonna poop your brains out."

6. On the positive side, I didn't feel like eating once the laxatives really kicked in. It was a little like the stomach flu, without the throwing up. Except, I threw up. In all my research, I read nothing about a person throwing up. Go figure. Anyway, you probably/hopefully will not throw up.

7. Like all surgical procedures, there was no food or drink after midnight before the procedure. I stopped eating and drinking even earlier for reasons explained in numbers 5 & 6.

The Big, Scary Day Was Not That Scary 

I arrived on time. Waited for very little time. Was ushered back to the pre-op area, which was weirdly full of people, including one old guy right across from me who felt compelled to show off his full moon. I averted my eyes before he could show off anything else.


The nurse talked me through everything and did the usual history stuff, though I'd filled out the paperwork beforehand, so this was quick. While she talked, another nurse inserted the needle for the IV. Oh, boy, do I hate needles. Like, I have bad dreams about needles once in a while. This part made me woozy because I am a wimp. I've had three children. You'd think I'd be an old hand with a needle. I am not. The wooziness didn't last, thankfully.

They gave me "breakfast"in the form of IV fluids, and a few minutes later the doctors, a gastroenterologist and anesthesiologist, came to chat with me. They were nice guys. They were comforting. I felt safe.

The nurses wheeled me back to the room. I was asked to roll on my left side. They put the pulse oximeter on my finger, the oxygen thingy in my nose, those heart monitor tabs on my chest, and the anesthesiologist spoke to me while he pushed drugs into the IV.

And that's all I remember.

That's it. Seriously. I did not feel a thing. I was not embarrassed. I thought I would be embarrassed, but I wasn't. There was really nothing gross about the colonoscopy itself. At least it wasn't gross for me!

When I woke up, I couldn't believe it was over. I was done. And best of all, I passed with flying colors, not even a teeny polyp to zap. As a parting gift, they gave me pictures of my lovely colon.

What helped me get through this fifty-something, not-fun thing?
  • Feeling determined to do this.
  • Having nice and also highly skilled doctors, two of them, in fact.
  • Having a gastroenterologist who is funny. Seriously, when he retires he should become a stand-up comic. But I guess if you do what he does for a living, a sense of humor is required.
  • Good nurses helped, too. 
  • And so did my sweet husband. He waited with me till they wheeled me back, and was by my side when I woke up. According to my doc, some husbands run off to Home Depot to buy a chain saw while their wives get a colonoscopy.

What else helped me get through this fifty-something, not-fun thing?

Katie Couric videos. She lost her husband when he was only 42 to colon cancer, and she has spent a good deal of her life since trying to educate people about the importance of this procedure. It can save your life. Really, truly. Plus, watching these videos and reading a few candid explanations online, helped me understand that suffering through the prep was important AND that the procedure itself wasn't a big deal.

I promise not to write about a colonoscopy for 10 years (the next time I'm due to have one).

Here are Katie's videos if you're interested.



Tuesday, March 31, 2015

I'm Still Alive and Well

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I think about my blogger buddies all the time, but lately I have had ZERO inspiration. Maybe it was the winter that at this point feels like a rude house guest. Or, it could be that I have been working really hard on a project (not decorating related) that I'm just not ready to share yet. Quite possibly, it's that my job is way too hectic, and what little time is left I spend with my loved ones. Whatever the case, I've given myself the right to not blog or visit websites or comment because in this nice world, you people, whom I consider my people, understand.

Still, it just wouldn't be right if I didn't post something daffodil related since this pitiful, neglected blog of mine is called Daffodil Hill.

Today is the eleventh anniversary of my mother's death, and this past week two friends have lost parents: a mother and a father. When my mother died, I remember thinking Thank God it's spring. At least there will be flowers. At least there will be sunlight and warmth. And it was this miracle of spring that got me through. There is no way around grief, and at times I was suffused with it. Fine one minute and weeping the next.

In this Easter season, I plan to focus on the miracle of Christ and his resurrection and what that means for all of us.

I hope that wherever you are or whatever you're going through, the miracle of spring fills you with wonder, makes you stop and breathe deeply and rejoice in this fleeting gift of life.
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