Just Rosy

People who visit my office probably wonder why, for the longest time, I had a dead rose on my desk.  It may have been shriveled, but its scent was still divine!  My lovely friend Diane dropped by my office a few weeks ago to give me a wild rose.  She had read one of my reminiscences about the old-fashioned roses we had in our yard when I was a girl and she wanted to deliver the flower to me.  Although Diane's rose grew along the side of the road near her house and not as a shrub, it looked and smelled very much like the roses I had written about: Delicate pink petals, lots of tiny thorns on the stem, and the scent, that heavenly, spicy scent!  Even though it was completely wilted, that rose's scent lived on for weeks.  Whenever things got stressful or I felt like an octopus with hands in too many work projects at once, I could literally stop and smell the roses (or in this case, the single rose on my desk).   That glorious scent stilled and calmed me and reminded me of all that is lovely about summer.

Aunt Emma and the Silver Bullet

While on a recent evening walk, I happened across a camping trailer in a backyard.  It was silver, with rounded edges.  It looked like a big bullet with windows and a trailer hitch.  Immediately, I recalled a larger version of such a trailer from when I was a little girl.  Our beloved neighbor Elsie shared her rural home with her husband and elderly mother, and her aunt Emma lived in a silver bullet-type mobile home behind the house (or at least that's how I recall the trailer in my mind's eye).  I was never in that mobile home, but I was always fascinated by how it looked.  There was something sleek about it.  It's funny how a brief glance at something had the ability to take me back some 50 years --  even for just a moment -- to Aunt Emma's amazing silver bullet.

Talking Over the Fence

I love small-town life.  Things just seem to be more personal, more intimate, more gentle, even more wholesome.  In the summer, small-town life blossoms, as neighbors enjoy neighbors, friends gather and kids play till dusk.  Take, for instance, my walk to and from the public library the other evening.  Along my route home, I saw three women enjoying a casual conversation while standing at a fence that divides their backyards.  Further on my route, kids were dashing on a spacious expanse of lawn, their giggles gliding across the summer evening air.  A few blocks down, the aroma of something scrumptious on the barbecue grill and the sound of laughter and conversation indicated an informal gathering on a backyard deck.  There were folks out watering their flowers and a woman following behind her silent hand-push reel lawn mower.  There were kids on bikes and women out walking. No matter where I was that evening, everyone looked up, smiled, waved or had something pleasant to say.  I wouldn't ever trade small-town life because enjoyment is as simple as talking over the backyard fence.

Sparklers

When I was a little girl, I didn't like fire.  I didn't like candles nor did I like matches or lighters.  On the 4th of July, I had to be brave, however, and allow myself to take a lit sparkler or two and help light up the sky with my own little version of fireworks.  Once I summoned up the courage, I'd enjoy holding the little metal wands of the sparklers, waving them around, listening to the sizzle as the fire burned down the wick, creating little flashes of light all around me.  It was all so magical.  But nothing was so magical as watching real fireworks.  To this day, I ooh and aah, just like the little ones, when I see a magnificent fireworks display. Alas, due to the oppressive heat and drought, our community has had to postpone its 4th of July fireworks presentation this year until later in the month when, hopefully, the conditions will permit.  Tonight, we'll watch the full moon instead and look for fireflies.  So, however you spend this star-spangled evening -- lighting sparklers or basking in the light of the full moon, watching fireworks or chasing fireflies, enjoying a big gathering or quietly appreciating the meaning of our Independence Day, may you have a Happy 4th of July!

Goners

I heard a radio disc jockey recently talking about all of the things that are going the way of the dinosaur:  Landline phones, telephone books, newspapers, to name a few.  Then, we received the June issue of AARP Bulletin that featured a page of things anticipated to be goners within the next 50 years, including snail mail, gasoline pumps, glove box road maps, and even toilet paper.  The article also highlighted nine things that are almost gone already.  Being the old fuddy-duddy that I am, I realized that I still use six of those items:  An answering machine, tube televisions, phone books, bank deposit slips, Rolodexes and incandescent light bulbs.  Granted, I rarely use bank deposit slips anymore, I no longer rely on my Rolodex (which is in a drawer these days), and we're using up our supply of incandescent light bulbs at home and replacing them with the more energy-efficient versions.  However, it's a reminder of my "advancing age" when the things that were once familiar and commonplace become extinct.  My favorite thing on the AARP Bulletin "vanishing" list:  Cursive writing, which they claim may have to be taught someday only for the purpose of being able to read historical documents!

These Lazy Days

Summer days are meant for lazing around.  I'm one of those who faithfully follow a to-do list and pride myself in getting things done. However, unlike in the winter, my summer to-do lists hold less power over me.  Summer has a way of luring me to the rocking chair in the sun porch to read a good book, feel the breeze, contemplate, and listen to the bird chatter.  And now that July's here -- the heart of the summer, I'm increasingly inclined to while away the hours, doing absolutely nothing constructive whatsoever.  I've been taking some randomly scheduled days off from my job this summer in order to write. I've spent my fair share of hours at my laptop, but across the room, I can see that rocking chair in the sun porch and can practically hear it calling me to take a little rest. That "little rest" easily turns into a couple of hours of reading, thinking and snoozing. Oh, well!  My to-do list will wait.  Meanwhile, I just love these lazy summer days!

Mix Carefully

I was recently invited to a shower for a young bride-to-be.  Each guest was asked to provide the young woman with a recipe.  While I could've dug through mine and written down one for anything from Apple Bars to Zucchini Bread, I decided to offer instead a recipe for A Long, Happy Marriage:  Ingredients:   Equal parts love, communication, kind words, devotion, loyalty and encouragement with a pinch of patience, a tablespoon of tolerance, and a dash of good humor.  Directions:   Mix delicately and carefully, so as not to cause any lumps.   Allow to simmer, never to come to a boil. Well worth the extra time and effort.   Rich and satisfying!  Serves: Abundantly!  As I composed my "recipe," I realized that it is one that requires constant effort in order to get it right.  And no matter how many times I mix the ingredients together, it's still a work in progress for me.