Summer Breeze!

I was flying down the highway here in NC, doing 45 mph(that is fast down here) Freedom from sound and silly laughing voices, makes me a little melancholic for the days when my entire being was consumed with the infantile thoughts of my younguns. I do miss it. Now that they are all grown or trying to act grown. The last months of my 6 year old are melting into oblivion. My dreams of writing the when we were six for my Christopher Robin sons is now a real missed opportunity. I have slips of poems and funny thoughts around the house to dart the efforts. I have AA Milne's book laying around assisting my mental motivation and 7 is running up on me like a prowler.
I will get to compile the thoughts for my precious boys. I do admire AA Milne and EB White and CS Lewis for condescending their thoughts to the miniscule, for our entertainment.
I gave my Ezra a job to do. I told him, in my thought it was a clear command. "Go outside and pull the weeds out of my garden. I only have a 2'x2' Okra and Eggplant patch. He said "no!" and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Self control not to knock him down. I controlled myself and said Sweetiepie, You will do what Mommy said, right now. He slowly understood my eye glare and quickly got his sneakers on. "There is too much grass in the yard to pull it all out." He, thought I was telling him to pull the grass out of the front yard, for some reason. These generation communication gaps happen all of the time now. They didn't happen as often when I was a 30 year old mother or a 35 year old mother, but now that I am "pushing 50", It happens every day. When we were 6 helps me remember that I am no longer 6, or 16 or 26 or 36 or...well, you know. I will finish it and I will figure out how to communicate with my children, even the "baby". Thank God for numerous "translators".

My Crepe Myrtle is blooming!

Hooray!
She has become so beautiful. Her blooms are fuschia colored and bountiful. I think that I will bring some inside to beautify our home. The table would look nice with a bunch of Crepe Myrtle alive and decorating it at dinner. The butterflies and bees are enjoying my butterfly bush and Sunday afternoon I found a very large cricket sitting in the center of my dying sunflower. She took shade and some food in my delightful flower. I tried to take her picture and she posed beautifully, but her expressions of enjoyment could not be caught by a photo.


After this I found a red buzzing visitor. I don't know what it was. I did catch it on photo, after fighting it and chasing it. She didn't like having her photo taken, so she lunged at me first, as though I was the butterfly bush. I had to play hide and seek with her on Sunday, before catching her buzzing around my blooms. I need a sign on my butterfly bush for the visiting butterflies, that says Expect to get your photo taken, if you are enjoying the flora here. This big red insect, that looked somewhat like a hummingbird, made Ethy and I chase her for her photo. It was like an Easter egg hunt for us and we had fun.:)

Father's Day is coming SHHHHH!

What will we do? We have put coupons away to buy our daddy a special gift, for Father's day. The family organizer has the coupons in her files. She has the day picked out to go shopping and we are chomping at the bit to do what we can to make it a special day.
The meal is my responsibility. For some reason, I thought we would have home grown eggplant by this time. But, not yet, is there a bloom on our little eggplant. We do hope that he is pleased and excited by our planned celebrations. We will see!

My daddy played memory games with me, from my earliest memory of him

He told me, that he started with telling me little things to fetch for him. He started with single items and then a list of 5 or ten things when I was too young to remember him doing this. Then, it was phone numbers. I was his phone book. He would offer a prize to the person who could remember Aunt Iva's phone number from home to Brooklyn, where she lived. He never, ever carried a phone book, wherever we were, he would say Jayne, what is Aunt Iva's phone number. I can't remember anything now. I am old. But at that age, I had them all in my mind. The only problem is that, I think that because he force fed all that informational stuff into my mind, like a computer, it forced out memory for regular stuff, like shutting off of the water in the tub and shutting off the iron. Those memory items, forgotten, had most serious consequenses, usually a bop in the head, or something like that. The other were a game. I gravitated to remember the phone numbers and my timestables and stuff like that.
"Jayne, what is Aunt Iva's phone number?"

Beauty is as beauty does?

You girls are always designing shirts, cartoons, cards and other creative things, dollies and such. I am always amazed that there are so many ways to design a room or put it together. Clean is better than, well designed, I say. Clean first and then pick up your pen. Clean first and then pull out the sewing machine. Clean first and then entertain your friends and family.
A beautiful raincoat and what did God send us? RAIN! Thank you Lord!

~~~~Uh-uh-She's got a new attitude?~~~~~

Prima’s leaves are getting messed up by aphids. She was crying this morning and still, the show must go on. She pirouetted, with pride and beauty, so I watered her. I never get to water the plants in the morning. This morning, I planted all of my seedlings, I thinned out my eggplant patch, I put Mr. Strawberry in his place and then watered the duet, Prima and the Diva were, in their glory. Of course, it rained. It seemed the angels were sympathizing with Prima, as I was. Let’s hope that is the end of the aphids.I will have to stake Prima, after all, if she doesn’t perk up.Blue, found a wonderful perch on Prima and I tried to take a picture, but she wasn’t in the mood. Of all of the mornings to play shy. She just wanted me to chase her. I wouldn’t do it. I have my pride, also and I had no time.For the love of Prima, I want to get a tape of Patti Labelle for her, so she can see what she reminds me of—“New Attitude”.

Good Morning, Mr. Strawberry

Ms. Robin knows all about a bumper crop of strawberries. She and Ms Bluejay met me outside this morning. It was delightful to see how they laugh at me trying to develop a green thumb. You were getting so excited about the flower seeds, like you've never seen a strawberry before or a seed come from a flower. I hope you know, I mean it all in fun. I am laughing with you and not at you.

Prima Ballerina and the Diva!

Oh dear! I am in love again. I met these two trees, in the farm and they were personalities that I couldn't get away from. They were gifts and obviously, very loved. We walked through the farm and I wished hard looking at Prima and looking at Diva. I couldn't hope to have her. One of them was above my budget. I had just gone window shopping. My friend had blessed me! What a blessing!
Prima was a beautiful ballerina pose. I was told, she will straighten out, with a stake or two taken to her. NOooo! I would never stake her. That is her personality! She was a gift. As her pirouette, so is she. She is not crooked, she is a dancer. She is in a spin and she is beautiful.
We took them in the truck and the personality of Diva came alive as well. She was obviously, a Diva. How could you? She sighed, when we unwrapped her from the plastic. I thought that she was, just a weeping cherry tree. She was whining about her treatment. Her leaves, which were perfect, at the farm had been wind whipped and crinkled from the ride. I could hear Madeline Kahn's voice from her, when I look at her, in young Frankenstein. "Don't touch me." "I, simply do not know, if I will ever recuperate from that long ride in the back of a truck. They never treated me like that, at the farm." My leaves, my beautiful leaves..." I was weeping with her, by the time we got her into the ground. You will be all right, Maybe, she said.
Prima reminds me of Patti Labelle, she dances and is singing about a new attitude. She was, a little less delicate. She enjoys being in the spotlight most of the day, now. She is talking to the little flowers beneath her and telling them what to do. I love seeing them get acclimated to my yard. I could kiss them, they are so full of personality. "She's feeling good from her leaves to her roots, knows where she's planted and she knows she's a beaut-She's got a new attitude." (I know they are trees.)

What a great day.

Rules of Tennis, applicable to my children.

1. Walk onto the court and don't run on, "willy, nilly!"
2. Close the gate behind you!
3. Do not make loud noises on, or near the courts.
4. Do not walk past someone else's court, if the ball is in play...
5. Never touch the net!!!

Parenting, the toss! again!

The wind was contrary, as I practiced my serve this morning. My twist was, at least 2-3 inches out, on account of the wind. I was working on the calculations and the precise combination to get it in and I was thinking how much my children are just like that tennis ball. The winds are always contrary and the spins are missing the line on every point, more often than not. They have their own specific spin. I know that I didn't put the spin on them. God, or their father did that. I just have to adjust and move the ball in the direction of the court. My contribution seems to be the contact and the direction to the children. Volleys, serves, occasionally, one of them comes along that is a floater and you get to hit it right to get a winner. Most of the time they are just ralleys. The fun is in the interaction and how many times you get to hit them over the net. When they change courts and you are no longer in their sphere of influence, though you may love them. The match is over. It may be a short match or a long match. You have just a few minutes on earth to make an influence on them.
Sometimes the lighter you hit them the more they float, as I have seen in my inlaws case. The eldest child they always seem to hit so hard they pop the ball into smitherenes. If I could do it again. I would treat the eldest like the youngest and the youngest like the eldest. No attention is better than too much.

...lest they become discouraged