Ain’t that Perty?

I doesn’t it matter if you live in the country, suburbs or city. You probably have dealt with this issue. The spiders get busy after dark. However, we do live in the country. When we go out to check the garden  or stop at the flip-house, or just try and get in the freaking car in the morning, we have to look half-crazy. Arms swinging before us so we don’t get a spider web in the face. Been there, done that? Annoying little artists aren’t they?

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The problem is those fine strings that can run 20-30ft from one tree to another, you just can’t see it until it’s too late. But if you look for it ever so closely, you see the most delicate, lacy, gorgeously beautiful patterned most amazing structure of mechanical engineering available today.

I’m annoyed, but impressed. Have a great day!

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

Please visit my other blog! The Brown Bag Letter

 

The Upside-down Burning Chair

Yes, this is a photo of a burning chair, and kind of sad, but I’m thankful for it. Being an antique dealer and lover of all things old, I have a deep respect and honor for old, inanimate objects like pieces of furniture, trinkets, jewelry, photos and crystal. What do I mean by honor? Well, a long long time ago, in a land called, “antique” furniture and other items were made by hand. Carvings were just that, literally carved by hand, not manufactured. China tea cups were painted with the greatest care. It is a fascinating world of beauty and craftsmanship.

I have foundmyself sitting at marked up old kitchen tables with obvious wear marks and wondered, as my fingers ran across the surface, who sat here? Did they drink coffee in the morning? Beer or wine with dinner? Did they tell family stories and argue about who was washing the dishes and play poker?

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Antique mirrors intrigue me too. As I gaze at my own reflection I wonder who else has looked into this beautiful mirror and checked themselves out? Does this fit? Is this a good color? Am I pretty? Will he like it? Did she have self doubt of great confidence?

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Check out my blog, The Brow Bag Letter to see my appreciation for antique photos, they slay me. Most photos are anonymous that are still here with us today. Names unknown, people forgotten. So yes, I honor inanimate objects without apology.

Imagine me, the one that loves and honors antiques burning a 100 year old chair in my fire pit. I do try and re-purpose or refinish what I can, but this one was without hope. The caning was ripped and it had some breaks in the wood. Truly not savable, so yes, I burned it. As I placed it in the fire and felt the warmth of the embers, I wondered, who sat in this chair? I sat and relaxed with a glass of wine and contemplated the possibilities, which of course reminded me of special memories.

Sometimes memories seemed burned up or long forgotten, like the people in antique photos, then something triggers a memory, and you are THERE. again, in your mind as if it is just happening.

This chair remind me of:

Coffee with Mom on a Saturday morning and sitting at the table while she ironed Dad’s shirts. There were many great conversations about family, love, boyfriends and girly silliness and giggles.

The day a man from Church that stopped by the house and I invited him in for a cup of coffee. As we sat there in the kitchen talking, my incredibly friendly German Shepherd was growling every time he lifted his cup. Evidently Corey didn’t think he was trustworthy and was very protective. Grrrrrrrrr

My hubby and I met at a local park, and we sat on a bench getting to know each other, I think it was around five hours later that we finally got up!

When your memories are triggered, I hope they are wonderful! Learn from the bad & hurtful ones, and don’t let it happen again! Be empowered to make change happen. Appreciate the ones you are reminded of all the time. Enjoy those that sneak up on you. Relive the moment and think, how can I create memories that are this special for someone else? Who could I share my life with that would be blessed if 40 years later they are “there again” via memory?

I appreciate the burning upside down chair. I’m thankful for those who sat in it for many years. (Considering the shape it was in, it must have been well-loved). I could ask what triggers your special memories, but I think I’ll be more specific . . . in honor of the burning chair. What special memories do you have that involve a chair?

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

Please visit my other blog: The Brown Bag Letter

Oh Yes, I am!!!!

Tell me you wouldn’t feel totally empowered by this!

Hubby was checking the brakes on my car and comes in the house saying, “I need your help moving the car.” So, I grab my keys and he says, “You don’t need them.” I left them behind figuring he had the spare already. I THOUGHT that I was going to pull up the car on the ramp, but no, he had something different in mind.

The jack was too tall to fit under the car, and he needed to have the wheel free, so he got a pressure-treated 4×4 board and proceeded to say, “Here, just lift the car up!” I’m strong, especially for a girly-girl, but REALLY HONEY, YOU WANT ME TO LIFT UP A FREAKING CAR???? How high???????

I did it.

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THEN . . . 

I sang Helen Reddy, I am Woman!

I told every man I saw in Home Depot what I did.

I danced in the grocery store.

I’m a badass.

And really, it wasn’t even that hard to do! What makes you feel like a bad-ass singing Helen Reddy songs?

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Pencliff   

Pingback: #FOWC

A Hungry Man is a Hungry Man

For those who follow my blog in many parts of the USA, this photo would not need words, however for those of you who live in the city, or around the world who wouldn’t understand the comedy of this photo . . .

I live in Central Pennsylvania in the shadow of one of the most progressive schools, Penn State University “WE ARE!” Although Central Pennsylvania is quite rural, and State College isn’t a very large town when the students are on break, because of the University, we have about every convenience and fun things to do that most cities have to offer. However, about 10 miles out of this growing mini-city live the most unique and awesome people. They are called the Amish, or Pennsylvania Dutch.

These folk are hard-working farmers for the most part, but you often see Amish men doing carpentry work and you certainly know “it’s being done right” if the Amish are doing the job! Occasionally, the women sell homemade food, such as cookies, breads, “woopie pie”, fresh brown eggs direct from the farm, or homemade soaps and candles at flea markets. Due to their strong Mennonite-Christian beliefs they do not use many of the modern conveniences we American’s take for granted such as, electricity, cars & trucks, computers, mechanized tractors,  and so on. Image result for amish farm

You can always recognize an Amish person by their mode of transportation —horse drawn buggy! Their farms are BEAUTIFUL! The Amish also wear clothing that certainly identifies them in a crowd. The men wear black pants and vest, usually a white or blue shirt, and straw hat. Wow! —-they have the biggest hands, probably due to the hard labor on the farm. The women wear very modest dresses, ankle length, fastened with straight pins, generally black or blue, and a small bonnet to express humility. Although they keep to themselves for the most part, they are incredibly friendly, and helpful people. If a barn is destroyed in a fire, the entire community will get together, and it will be re-built within days.

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You have to be careful driving in the area of the Amish farms because you never know if a horse and buggy will be around the bend! It is truly like stepping back in time and quite the opposite of the contemporary conveniences, amazing research, and forward-thinking-studies performed at Penn State University so close by.

Image result for amish plow

Imagine my surprise when I stopped at Sheetz Convenience store the other day which happens to sit across from a weekly flea market. Here stands a group of Amish men, ordering sandwiches on a touch-screen computer! img_20180704_0532100612

Dear God, what is the world coming to????????

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink!

__________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter  –a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Pencliff

Photo Credits:

Horse & Buggy

Buggy on Road

Amish Plowing Field

 

Black Gold

I have the Beverly Hillbillies theme song running through my mind as of late.

“. . . and then one day he was shootin’ at some food,

& up through the ground comes a bubblin’ crude,

oil that is Black Gold, Texas Tea . . .”

It is black-raspberry season, and I love it.  I know, in the song they were singing about oil being black gold, but, for now, I’ll accept raspberries!

There are a lot of good reasons to pick black raspberries:

It is relaxing —even meditative

They taste great! Yeah, some don’t make it into the house and into the oatmeal!img_20180626_085849920_hdr~21251014808..jpg

The view is beautiful from the garden

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You find out that German Shepherds are more than watch-dogs. I mean, really? Auggie has learned all the life pleasures above and can even decipher the ripe from “not quite so ready yet!” It is definitely more fun when your dog picks berries with you!

Have a great day!

Enjoying the Adventure, (Time to pick more raspberries!)

Dr. Dink

____________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Pencliff

Chaos to Beauty

Sounds of mistakes, that only practice 

can forgive, were being heard. 

Rahul Gaur

adult black and white classic concert
Photo by SplitShire on Pexels.com

In his essay, Return of the Symphony, Rahul Gaur describes individual musicians in a orchestra practicing prior to a concert.  I was in a concert band and know what this sounds like, a flute practicing trills, the solo trumpet trying to perfect his part, the saxophone tuning and running scales, all simultaneously.  The sound is both chaotic and hopeful. And then the curtain rises, the conductor lifts his baton and everyone plays in concert with one another. The opposing sound is a shock of beauty.

adult art band blur
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In order to bring about the soothing, gorgeous power of an orchestra, each individual has to practice their part. In an orchestra there is no room for individuality, beyond the fact that each person has chosen their particular instrument. The precise movement of sound and tempo bringing each note to it’s melting point with unified glory is what “makes” an orchestra. This takes patience. This takes individual responsibility to work through the difficult phrases. It takes a symbiotic relationship, working though mistakes until those mistakes are forgiven and orchestrated perfection is reached.

If you have ever played in a concert band, or any group of musicians, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If not, please know the music you listen to does not “just happen”, it takes not only talent, but work and practice . Considering Rahal’s saying, “Sounds of mistakes that only practice can forgive were being heard.” Is such a relevant description, not until the kinks are worked out and practiced through, then and only then are the musicians of the orchestra ready for their performance.

I can’t help but think of this saying as a metaphor for life. Isn’t it true that no matter what it is that we are attempting, mistakes can and are often made. This is true for relationships of various types. It is very true for those of us who attempt to communicate, mistakes are made, adjustments (and editing) bring us to a place of forgiveness and the speech is given, the blog published, the letter sent.

The thing is, oftentimes in life, we make mistakes and neglect to realize the forgiveness. Therefore, chaos enters. Hands are thrown up in frustration and practice not thought about. Often, we forget that life is about mistakes, trying again, practicing, perfecting. Or adjusting so that we can all live together in the wonderful symphony of life.

I think I shall frame this saying to remind me everyday that my mistakes can eventually be a thing of beauty, if only I try.

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

Thank you Rahul! Return of the Symphony

_____________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Pencliff

You Decide . . .

It’s summer, you know what THAT means, bugs of all kinds just messing with you and they really enjoy it.

I was standing at the stove, making a really good dinner and I hear my husband running down the steps holding his finger straight in the air. No, not THAT finger! The other one! Now, he is from England, so please hear this with a really cool whispery voice and the lovely accent as you read, it adds to the drama.  “Oh, bloody Hell, that bugger, fOck, a hornet stung my finger!” Hornet stings really hurt, they are the worst, maybe they are the Godzilla the of the insect world. He made a paste of baking powder to put on his finger, then was on his hornet-murderous way.

 

On the other hand —

There was a fruit fly in my Merlot.

You decide! Have a nice day!

I know, Damn fruit flies!

 

 

Enjoying the adventure, 

Dr. Dink

_________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter –a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share

Virtual Library

 

HUSBAND!

I LOVE MY HUSBAND!

BUT . . . there are times when,

well,

you know.

We have been working hard this week taking a roof off a house that we are flipping. We are taking advantage of a 5 day forecast of “NO RAIN” (I’ll believe it when I see it) here in Pennsylvania, hahaha, that’s funny, it’s summer!

So, when you’re up on a roof, with a hammer, a ply-bar and your muscles (or lack thereof) it’s important to have a good hearty breakfast, don’t you agree?  Our staple breakfast is Old Fashioned Oatmeal with flax seed & whatever fruit might be available with yummy cinnamon or ginger spice, maybe a sprinkle of nutmeg. Yesterday morning, of all mornings, (Day #2 of roofing job) my husband decides to “surprise me” by putting ANISE spice in my oatmeal.  He says, “I only put a little”.

So, who’s complaining? ME!

Karen, if you have a man that makes you oatmeal in the morning, self says, NEVER COMPLAIN!!! NEVER!  But Anise in oatmeal? Anise is what gives flavor to licorice. In all fairness, I tried. I added a little more milk, and tried not to smell that $#!+ in my breakfast bowl. I tried to be a WOman about it, but I couldn’t bear it. THEN, I started burping, which LASTED ALL DAY LONG and I didn’t even eat one quarter of the bowl. (Burping, like a woMAN).

As if I didn’t bitch enough about that to him, here I am sharing my bitching with the whole wide world . . .

That I am so grateful

That he put something so

AWFUL

In my oatmeal!

Why grateful you ask?

It brought back to me (in all my discomfort and awful disgust and burping anise) one of  the most wonderful memories of my childhood.

When I was a little girl, every Christmas Eve, we would visit our cousins. I remember one year there was a really bad snow storm, but we went anyway. We loved visiting our family and would have such a great time with our cousins. A part of that great time was the amazing cooking of their Mom, Aunt Carol. She was the best cook this side of the Mississippi, maybe even on the other side too. OK, she was possibly the best cook in the world.

She must have spent so much time in that kitchen baking cookies. They were all so tasty and pretty, but there was one that I was convinced only she knew how to make because I had never seen them EVER, anywhere before. So, every year, I would “try” one because they were the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. Aunt Carole’s pizzelle cookies were the most tempting.  I mean, really —wouldn’t you just want to eat this lovely thing?

Photo from Ann’s Entitled Life

I think I’m right, you would. Of all the cookies, these were the prettiest.

And guess what?

Every year

I HATED PIZZELLES

Why you ask?

Because they have ANISE in them!!!!

That’s why.

Today, as I was sweating on that roof, worrying about the danger, burping anise, I ended up thinking a lot about my family.

I thought about Aunt Carol. She passed away just a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. I thought about the bonds of love that surpass time and separation with my cousins. I thought about, not my hate for anise, but my LOVE for the memory of this smiling, beautiful woman.

I find it amazing that something that I ended up bitching about to my husband turned in to a wonderful day of remembrance.  Never underestimate the wonderful power of memory, even at the cost of eating Anise! By the way, Aunt Carol also made the best homemade pizza! Back in the 60’s, who made pizza at home? Aunt Carol!

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

 

I understand that most “normal” people like pizzelles, so please try them! You can find the recipe for the beautiful photo above, and other recipes at Ann’s Entitled Life Please visit her page for great recipes & home ideas!

_____________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Matilda

Ok, so it’s an antique washing machine. It’s ugly! And you need to have a-plenty-of-muscle to lift this bugger on the pick-up. And . . . like many broken, tarnished, nasty old things, I’m in love with her.  I think I’ll name her Matilda.  Actually, what you see in this photo is the cleaned-up-version. I’ll save you the grossness of seeing what she looked like before!img_20180612_182243429849691238.jpg

I know many antique/ vintage lovers would take me to task when I share this, but I see Matilda painted barn red with a vanilla cream motor. Don’t you? Although she might like Aqua Marine, after all she is a washing machine.  She may become a hamper, however my son thinks that she would love to hold iced beer at a party!

One of the things I’ve noticed about me since I’ve been making a distinct effort to be vocal about positivity, to share positive thoughts, and live each day looking for the positive is that my sense of creativity has been re-awakened.  That can be a scary thing during Yard Sale season, or at an auction because “I see things that aren’t there yet.”

So, in a few weeks I hope to be sharing the “New Matilda” with you, but in the meantime, let me ask a question.  What is it that brings you joy and satisfaction? Creativity is one of my vices in life, but that’s me. What do you enjoy?  Are you enjoying it? Do you take the time to feed the monster? Why?  Why not?  What do you need to do to be inspired to enjoy who you are?

Enjoying the Adventure, (Along with my new friend Matilda)

Dr. Dink

 

-________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Live Into

Have you ever been challenged to describe yourself? What would be the word or phrase that “describes” who you are, or what you do? I’ve been thinking through this one, but honestly, it is very difficult to pick one word or phrase. THEN when you do, you realize that word, or collection of words can be interpreted 86 different ways. However, it doesn’t hurt to do a little self-reflection.

Back in my “leadership days”, I used a phrase quite often, “Live Into”. When I was working with a group of people, my job was generally to help them define who they were personally, or as a group. We would do many exercises to help define, for instance, the purpose of a particular group and the direction that group would take. When the essence of that project was named, I would say, “Now, Live into it!”  Meaning, if you have a goal, or hope for the future, you live NOW as if it has already begun to occur.

This is a both fun and frustrating exercise. Helpful, as it brings clarity. Frustrating, as it usually needs interpretation. The end result though is worth the frustration. One of my favorite tools for thinking is called bubbling. You begin with a word or phrase, then simply write words that come to mind. There may be  many layers, (thus secondary levels of bubbles). This is done as a brain-dump, in other words, don’t put too much thought into it, just write down what comes to mind. You can return later to refine.

This example is the result of the word GARDEN to give you an idea of how it works:

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As you can see, a lot comes up, for instance, Plant leads to tomato, which lead to types of tomatoes, then I would have to add another category called blight because we deal with it here on our land.

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Now imagine that you put your name in the center . . . what descriptive words would be in those first bubbles? What else would be added to those first words. Which ones do you really want to describe you? What ones do you want or need to cross off the list? Yes, it’s fun and frustrating! Now, which ones will you “live into”?

Living into is acting as if it already is, therefore becomes reality. Thus one of the reasons I always close with Enjoying the Adventure!

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

__________________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Like Follow Share