Friday, April 23, 2010

Goals...



Goals are simply... Dreams with a Deadline....





Obstacles... are what you see when you take your eyes off your goal.




**Thank you to my son for his inspiring adventure and photos.**

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

A Night by the Ocean....

This past week I took a road trip in an attempt to find beauty along the back roads and to lose myself in the journey. I traveled through the Catskill Mountains, The Adirondacks, The Green Mountains, the White Mountains and eventually I ended up on the coast of Maine... Late at night, the sky was black with but a sliver of a waxing moon occasionally visible through the thick clouds that were determined to share their contents...

The rocky path leading down to the beach was barely visible and slippery... once on the remote isolated beach my thoughts and emotions started to swirl and churn as much as the surf and by the time I was finished walking I just wanted to yell as loud as I could. I wanted to scream, let go of inhibitions and release all that was within me... except I didn't have the words.

On my drive home the following morning I found the words within a song... within this song....



Sure wish I could sing.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Mam-mam's eggs... slightly enhanced

When I was a little girl, there were certain things or traditions that were done to celebrate Easter... there was the Easter cake, butter in the shape of little lambs, sunrise services, breakfast at Grammy's, Moravian sugar cake and of course the coloring of Easter eggs with q-tips and food coloring.

The coloring of the eggs was always a fun, albeit messy, event. I'm not sure which ended up with more colors on it... the eggs or me. And when the task was done the various designs would intrigue me.... but that which really captured my attention were the eggs that my grandmother used to make.

She would cook her eggs with the skins from the onions in her pantry which would leave the shells a solid hazel nut brown color. And when rubbed with just the slightest of oil they would take on a soft sheen. To me, they were a special treat and hold the fondest of memories.

As I got older and had children of my own, I too wanted to color eggs and make memories with them. I think we might have done the old food coloring and q-tips at least once or twice, but they didn't hold the rich brown color I so desired. I could have made the brown eggs with the boys, but lets be honest.... just peeling onion skins to put into a pot just didn't rate very high on the "fun factor".

I wanted designs... and so we sought out to find the best designs nature could provide.

Easter comes fairly early in the growing season so the boys and I scoured the back yard for tiny plants and leaves that were just starting to grow. I figured if I were to put the plants on the eggs, manage to hold them in place and then cook the eggs... when I took the leaves off it would leave a design behind.

We were amazed at how many little plants were actually around. Figured out that some old, clean, cut up pantyhose and twist ties would hold the leaves in place. Cooked the eggs to perfection (bring the water to a quick boil, reduce the heat and simmer for 20 minutes) And crossed our fingers.... It worked!!!!

Mam-mam's eggs.... slightly enhanced.... became a new tradition. Hunting for the plants was as much fun as an egg hunt.

*~*

With the boys scattered to the wind the past few years I haven't taken the time to make the eggs. This year... all the boys were coming home and so the spirit of Easter and all its traditions returned.

I let the eggs sit out to get room temperature while I hunted for plants. I adorned them and tied each one like a tiny fragile present. Cooked them to perfection. Cleaned them. And finally, rubbed a touch of oil on the warm shells to make them shine.

When my youngest son (who brought his girlfriend home with him) discovered the eggs, he smiled with surprised delight and stated that he had just mentioned the eggs to his girlfriend noting that I hadn't made them in a few years.

You never really know what you do that sticks in the hearts of your children. I do know that his reaction sticks in my heart.

Someday perhaps I will have a granddaughter that remembers my eggs with fondness, too.