Tuesday, September 12, 2017

GOSH, THE HOUSE SMELLS GOOD!

Tonight's blog was an easy one as for the past few days I've been baking a whole series of first-time recipes and having a great time.  Some of them have come from email cookbooks and some, I've got to say, from good ol' Facebook. Regardless of whence they came, they sounded good and have proven to be just that and that... was the inspiration for this blog.

BAKING UP A STORM
By Patty Lynn

I don’t know what’s got into me, I’m baking up a storm,
I’ve come across these recipes, I’m dying to perform.
With flour, sugar, eggs and oh, the chemistry’s compelling.
The more I bake, I just can’t take the lusciousness I’m smelling!

This time of year I’m prompted by the apples and the pumpkin,
The cinnamon and cloves combine, the taste is really sumpthin’.
From applesauce to Apple pie, dessert breads by the score,
Bread pudding, crisps, that just can’t miss, such sweet things they’ll adore.

Zucchini is a real surprise, an addition that’s incredible.
You can make it like spaghetti or instead of bread, quite edible.
And oh, how that reduces carbs and calories too boot!
I tried it for some bread sticks, a fantastic substitute!

And yesterday I made a bread with sweet potatoes mashed
That got some rave reviews and oohs and ahs, quite unabashed.
Next I’ll make this recipe for healthy breakfast “muffins.”
They’re small & made in cupcake tins, if good, there’s no discussion.

They’re filled with turkey sausage and an egg, so each has protein.
If we can keep our figures & stay healthy, I say, “Go team!”
But soon I’ll have a house guest who I know loves CC cookies
I’m sure that you have figured out that’s chocolate chipper goodies.

So I will absolutely make a batch to feed the craving,
And if the baking that I’ve done succeeds, there’ll be some raving.
But bottom line I’ve had a ball just trying out these recipes
And hopefully I’ll find that some will grow to be my specialties.





Monday, August 28, 2017

OUR LAST DOG

I don't like to think about it often but the truth is Cooper is the last family pet we'll have.  Reality says that all the training, daily walking, cost of vet bills and food...all these have lead us to the inevitable decision that our sweet Cooper will be our last dog.
He's getting up there just like we are.  He'll be 12 in November and it's obvious that he too is slowing down.  His muzzle is completely white and we've noticed that the hair on his head is going the same way.  As much as we'll miss having him around, that welcoming excitement when we arrive home and the tail wag that goes with it, we know that having another dog with the above-mentioned responsibilities, would be foolish.  We won't miss the incessant barking at anything or any one that walks past our house but, I suppose when it's gone, we might even miss that.  So tonight's blog is dedicated to our sweet little:

COOPER BOY
By Patty Lynn

I saw a photo yesterday of such a darling pup.
The feelings that came over me, such thoughts they conjured up…
Of that day many years ago when we first laid our eyes…
On our sweet puppy, rescued one, who much to our surprise…

Was just exactly right for us on that auspicious day,
Just 8 weeks old, adorable, such problems on the way.
We didn’t know what lie ahead, the vet was baffled, too,
But once he diagnosed it, we knew just what to do.

We’d never heard of MANGE before, but serious was his lot.
We did what needed to be done and simple, it was not.
With drugs and special baths he spent so many, many weeks.
But in the end, we conquered it, his cure at last complete.

And as he's grown and changed, he’s made an imprint on our lives,
A boy who loves to please, to EAT…and not just to survive.
His appetite, insatiable, if we fed constantly,
He’d eat it all and still want more, he’d eat incessantly!

So now we closely monitor this boy who loves to eat.
He still begs for his special treats and takes them gently, sweet,
But as his age is showing now, he started to gain weight,
So what we give is measured, he can’t eat how much he ate.

It’s true our Cooper’s getting old, November, one year more.
Though he’ll be twelve, in human years he’s really eighty-four.
He’s moving slower than he was but still loves chasing rabbits.
He takes off fast and catches some but limping back’s his habit.

We realize the day will come he’ll be no longer with us
And we’ll reflect on all he was and how much joy he gave us.
But I, for one, hope it’s not soon, for we must face this truth...
That Cooper’s our last family dog, we cannot capture youth.

By that I mean we know too well, expenses, care & feeding...-
Would be too much to do again, who knows what we’ll be needing.
We know our lives won’t be same without a dog to share it,)
The love they give is precious, unconditional, to cherish.

But though we’ll mourn the loss of him, he’ll always, ever be
That little boy who barked too much who smiled with his teeth.
Our lives are so much richer every hour, every minute…
Because a little dog we called our Cooper Boy was in it!










Wednesday, August 23, 2017

TIME FLIES WHEN YOU WISH IT WON'T

Today I was a bit melancholy, maybe because my two grandsons went to San Francisco for a week with their family and I haven't seen them for a week, I don't know.  I guess I've been wrestling with the fact that they will be starting school shortly and they're going into 5th grade and... it's really hitting me hard that the time has just flown by so quickly.

It seems like yesterday I stood there when they were delivered, watching them take their first breath, being with them Monday through Fridays helping with their care, watching them take their first steps...I could go on and on. But, it's gone by so fast...in a blink.


BLINKING
By Patty Lynn


Time marches on, please make it stop, slow down so I can rest.
This pace is more than I can stand, it’s making me depressed.
Those babies that I loved to hold & rock & feed & sing to,
I ask them where those babies are, that memory’s what I cling to…

But they respond, “Oh, Grandma, please, we are your babies, please.
You know we can’t stop growing up, we know you like to tease.”
It’s true I’m only teasing when I wonder where they went,
But truth be told, I wish I could relive the time I spent…

With both of them, the days, the years that seem so far away,
From being there the moment they were born, that special day,
And all the days I witnessed all those firsts, ‘cause I was there…
To hold and rock and sing and sway and lend a hand, to care.

And now they’re getting ready to be students in fifth grade.
I marvel at how far they’ve come but still I wish they’d stayed…
Those tiny boys who needed me to tie their little shoes,
Just losing that and so much more leaves me to sing the blues.

I know you’re thinking to yourself, “Get over it, why don’t you?
They’re growing up and need you less, those days cannot continue.”
I know they can’t, but it’s just hard accepting that, you know?
It’s bad enough accepting I’ve got less “get up & go!”

I guess it’s good that they were born eleven years ago,
‘Cause if I had to be that Gram, well, really I don't know…
If I could do what I did then and be there every day…
And help my daughter, like I did, I’d have to say, “No, way.”

Yes, getting older, changing, too, not limited to them.
I, too, am getting older, don’t look like I did back then.
Those wrinkles, I have earned them, though wishful is my thinking,
It just seems that those boys grew up when I must have been blinking.


Sunday, August 13, 2017

A CHILDHOOD PERSPECTIVE

Tonight's blog was prompted by massage, you heard right, massage.  My neighbor is dealing with an obscure health issue, called torticollis, that affects everything in her daily life. It came on suddenly and seems to be ganglion of tense nerves that affect the muscles at the base of the neck. This causes her head to drop to the left.  I've been giving her a massage followed by a Celluma treatment (the explanation of which would take too much time to explain here) twice a week and it really has made a difference. After the half hour treatment, I then follow with another massage.

Now, what does all that have to do with tonight's blog?  I guess I'd have to say, everything.  All that massaging had me looking at my hands, such as they are, and remembering:

MY MOTHER’S HANDS
By Patty Lynn

When I was just a little girl I thought my mother’s hands
Were hands that I admired so, in fact, were something grand.
The stand-up veins I loved to trace, so easy to depress…
Left me to hope that someday mine would be like hers, I guess.

And as so happens, time brought change and mother’s hands changed too,
Continued to show signs of age, her knuckles gnarled, askew.
Through grown-up eyes I realized those hands, they told a tale…
Of all those years of mother’s toil, hard work by hands once frail.

Her hands showed some arthritis, though, not rheumatoid, at least.
Her knuckles and her finger joints with swelling had increased...
In what might be described as a deformity of sorts.
Mom’s working woman’s hands, they showed that evidence, of course.

The admiration that I felt when I was but a child
Was now replaced with deepened awe for I had reconciled...
The reason for those gnarled hands was what she daily showed...
In every task she chose to do, her love on us bestowed.

Though gone from us she leaves behind her love, her legacy.
My childhood admiration of her hands has clarity.
For love is shown in many ways, in words and deeds alike,
And when we leave this world behind, the love we’ve shown abides.





Friday, August 4, 2017

YOU'RE NOT GETTING OLDER - YOU'RE GETTING BETTER!

This blog was actually something that's been on my mind for some time.  Believe me, I'm not complaining about getting older and the subject of retirement.  I merely wish that I had been given a reality check when I first embarked on the then upcoming foray into the sixties, aging in retirement and well, lots of things.  This particular blog I hope will make you think, laugh and think again.  It's just that when you see those ads for senior living, golf courses, condos, cruises, etc. I think we get the wrong impression of how things will be.  So humor me.  It's the way it is for some of us. I hope yours is different.

THE LIE
By Patty Lynn

You know, like many other folks, I couldn’t wait to be...
Retired, that held such allure, I bet you’re just like me.
Just think of it, it sounded great to stop the work-a-day,
The life of going to your job, the 9 to 5-ing way.

You wouldn’t punch a time clock and no rushing out the door,
No skipping breakfast, rushing kids & mishaps on the floor.
And just imagine you’ll be on “vacation” every day.
Your time is yours to pick & choose, to spend your time your way.

The thought of your retirement is such a glorious one.
You spent your work life earning this and when that time is done,
Retirement life, it comes at last, euphoria takes over.
The time you’ve longed for, here it is, you think that “you’re in clover!”

And then that day comes, you’re retired, it’s finally arrived.
The years of working crazy hours, it’s this, for which you strived.
Days of leisure, sleeping in, schedules open-ended,
And time, you’ve waited, oh, so long, each moment seems extended.

It’s grand, it’s great, it’s glorious, this time of life, the sixties.
You’re free at last and life is good, you’re feeling…almost frisky!
But then it hits you, that’s not it, frisky’s wishful thinking.
That bod of yours is slowing down, retirement dreams are...shrinking.

It’s still your time, this time you’ve earned, but here’s what you must face,
The “extra” time you thought you’d have, amounts to but a trace.
And that’s the biggest fallacy, the myth of time’s all wrong.
You still run out of time because your tasks take twice as long!

My motive here is not to take retirement dreams and dash them.
I know the truth from whence I speak, and so I must news-flash them.
And so as you look forward to the years in your retirement,
It’s best to know what lies ahead and face it with empowerment.



Monday, July 31, 2017

THOUGHT IT WAS TIME FOR A BLOG

Starting about a year ago I decided that it was time to weed out and organize, especially my basement where I have boxes upon boxes, some of which I haven't touched since we moved into this house, ten years ago.  Yikes!!! Well, I knew there were things I wanted to keep and things, well, that needed to go. And so, it began.  Going through box after box and deciding what "needed" to be saved and what didn't.  Besides, I didn't want some health event to happen and have to move it all somewhere else and not know exactly what was in the supposed keepsake boxes.  And clothes, don't get me started on the clothes.  I went through them all the boxes and the clothes and the items decent enough to go to charity, let's just say, the charity got a lot!  I took at least 50 good sized boxes and 10 van loads there. So tonight I thought I should dedicate my latest poem to that endeavor.  Here it is:


STUFF
By Patty Lynn

I started getting organized about a year ago
Because we all accumulate, I knew much had to go.
I started with the basement & I realized, at last,
Unnecessary, much of it, just “stuff” that I’d amassed.

So I went through each box I had, each shelf, each rack of clothing
And thus began the task ahead, some fear of it and loathing...
That I had kept what seemed to me important at the time,
But actually just took up space, no reason & no rhyme.

I had my work cut out for me, purge sentimental things?
But how could I, they’re pulling at my heartstrings?
With every card and every picture drawn in childhood scrawl,
The memories came flooding back as I would thus recall…

The times when I, a fledgling Mom, was new at child rearing…
Then I'd snap back and realize I’d best get back to clearing.
As you can tell this wasn’t such an easy job for me.
I was consumed with doing this, now done, I’ve come to see…

If you throw keepsakes in a box, your memories of your past,
And they’re not organized, preserved, they’re never going to last.
Besides it’s smart to pick and choose, you can’t keep everything.
And since mine’s labeled and pared down, I can find anything!

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

NEW FRIENDS

     Yesterday I met with a group of gals who love writing as much as I do, and let me say, it was really wonderful.  Each of us brought something different to the table, literally.  We sat at a table in the back of a local restaurant.  Do I need to tell you what happens when a bunch of women get together?  True to form and especially because we had a lot in common, we had no trouble keeping the conversation going.  And what made it even more interesting was the fact that we were different in not only our writing styles, but also in the specific type of writing we enjoyed.
     Some were in the midst of book writing, some were into poetry and we all dabbled in the blogosphere. Since I have had Poetically Speaking since 2008, I was a good resource for how to begin and how to get noticed.  One of the women was busy finishing the second book of a trilogy she's both writing and self-publishing and brought a copy of Book One, entitled LEGS, for us to see. She also shared the expense of self-publishing.  Later, she treated us all to an excerpt from the book.
     As we all shared some of our writing, I read my poem, Penelope Pickle.  You may recall that that was the poem I wanted to turn into a children's book.  All the gals were very encouraging and the reaction was good.
     One of the gals does have a blog which is both personal, almost diary-like but uses her personal story to create a devotion of sorts.  We suggested a domain name for her blog so as to get it into the hands of prospective readers.  Our plans are to meet once-a-month and to have accomplished additional steps in our own writing process to share the next time we meet.
     Tonight's blog post is a poetic look at the day's activities.


WRITER’S CLUB
By Patty Lynn

Today I met a group of gals I never knew before,
Our love of writing joined us all, that love was underscored...
As some of us were poets while other gals loved prose.
No matter how you cut it that cake, we each love to compose.

And so we got acquainted, each sharing things we wrote,
Some wrote of things remembered, and certainly of note,
While others were devotional, profound in observation,
Still others wrote for children just ripe for illustration.

We spoke of agents, blogs and books, self-publishing, what joy,
And why a publisher is best, if we each had our choice.
For some, like me, it spurred us on to keep the process going,

Encouraging each one of us to keep the juices flowing.

For even though some hadn’t met until we met today,
Our love of writing drew us close in a very special way.
Though different in our backgrounds, we found this common ground.
A writer’s club was born today, four gals I’m glad I’ve found.