"What Wealth the Show" ... Had Brought

One thing I do is stop and smell the flowers.  Daffodils are my favorite because they're labor-efficient (plant 'em once!), they help me with my "wait-training" since they're bulbs, and they show up at just the right time, when I wonder if I can stand another day of winter's dreariness.  They remind me of a baby's first smile, perfectly timed in that post-partum period.

Just like sunshine from the ground.

   

One of my favorite poems, for one of my favorite flowers.  I love how that works out sometimes.

                                             

                                                       

My grandmother, Angel Pie's namesake, loved daffodils, too.  This is one of the few photographs I have of her, and that's ok.  It's just the way I remember her:  in her housecoat, her sunhat, in the garden, in the morning.  If I have any hint of a green thumb, it's because of her.  She let me plant the marigolds and pick the daffodils.  (Pretty sure I goofed that a time or two.)  She walked me around and around her yard, telling me the names of her plants:  azaleas, camellias, hydrangeas, amaryllis, magnolias, oaks, cherry tomatoes on the deck.  We waited for each in its season.

I love that this photo is so ethereal, somewhat from the sun, and somewhat from age and poor storage.  I remember her saying that God gave her wide shoulders so she could carry a heavy load, and that she did.  I hope I never have to face the pain she did.  I lost my father, but she lost her son.  And yet, she was so gentle.  Loving, understanding, and accepting.  "Hey, honey."

I'm pretty sure no daffodils ever grew here.

That last photo?  That was my first favorite garden of my own.  So tiny, with pots everywhere.  Frances (the cat) and I spent so much time "in" that garden:  drinking chardonnay from a box and smoking cigarettes.  I was convinced that flowers thrived on second-hand smoke.  Those were the days.

I'm walking away from this post with focus on Wordsworth's observation:  "I gazed --- and gazed --- but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought...."  Let's do that a little more, shall we?

You Know What I'd Do?

Well, one thing I would do is doubt myself.  And anyone else who thought I could make a living writing a blog.  I've doubted a lot, actually, and I used to be pretty good at it.  I don't have time for that anymore though.

It's no coincidence I received this beautiful, meaningful piece for Christmas.  BFF knows just what I need.

The old Denise (makes me laugh to use "old" Denise in the past tense!) would have put this off until it was all perfect.  But, as my friend, Ryanna, says, "Progress....not perfection."  So when you're reading this wonderfully imperfect blog post on my not-yet-fully-functional website, just know how proud I am that I hit the publish button.

This photo just added for cuteness.  My Dreamers.  My Inspiration.

Life doesn't look like I thought it would.  The characters are different, the plot continues to turn, and the scenery is changing.  And I'm OK with that.  You know what's the same though?  The dreams for myself that I never remembered even having.  They were in there!  The dreams for my children for which I studied and worked tirelessly to lay a foundation.  Those dreams haven't changed, and I feel so fortunate to have the opportunity and the peace of mind to chase them.  Come with me?

Also no coincidence I spotted this magnet on a friend's fridge recently.  The universe knows just what I need.