Daisy Rose

After reading all the sweet comments left on yesterday's post, I've decided to show you something else I just did!

I probably should mention that I am currently in my third phase of a kind of creative frenzy when I draw and paint and want to make decorative things. My first was when I was a child. Up until the age of 14, I was drawing all the time. My very favorite thing to draw at that time was faces. I absolutely adored sketching faces!

My next phase started about 10 years ago, when I painted dozens of watercolor flower paintings, and made hundreds of pieces of jewelry. I sold or gave away almost everything, but I never took pictures of anything. It was before I had a digital camera, and it didn't seem important at the time. Everything I did was for someone else.

"The primary benefit of practicing art,
whether well or badly,
is that it enables one's soul to grow."
~ Kurt Vonnegut

When I picked up those children's crayons a few days ago, it was almost as if my hands remembered that joy of drawing again. So I took out some watercolor crayons I had been saving for "just the right project." If I wait for that perfect project, I'll never use them, so I just jumped in and let my hands make something without my head getting too involved.

That's how Daisy Rose was born.

I must also confess, that I sometimes am afflicted with a rather annoying habit of making up rhymes, poems and songs.
:0)
This is why this portrait of Daisy Rose includes the words:

Daisy Rose was her name,
she had a loving heart.
And everywhere sweet Daisy went
A buzz was sure to start!

Buzz, buzz!

The smell of crayons on a warm summer day

"You know you are over the hill
when you start to use
your own children's hand-me-downs!"
(This is something I find myself saying a lot lately!)

I found a tin of long-forgotten crayons yesterday. They were hiding in the back of a closet, in a collector's tin celebrating Crayola's 90th anniversary in 1993.

When my children were younger, I always made sure they had plenty of art supplies so that their creativity would be nurtured and encouraged. When I saw all the wonderful colors, still vibrant after all these years, and smelled that wonderful familiar wax crayon smell, I couldn't help myself.

I had to draw something!

It felt wonderful to let my inner child out, to draw something freely, without any pressure to make ART.

It's just a crayon drawing of a cat in a window. And I think this is exactly what I needed to get myself drawing and painting again. No pressure - just pleasure. What fun!

The Bella Sinclair, Golden Heart, Mermaid, and Valued Follower Awards

Thank you so much Silke at Metamorphosis for honoring me with the Bella Sinclair Award. If you have not met Silke yet, she is a sweet, generous, talented mixed media artist who lives in beautiful Savannah, Georgia.

The Bella Sinclair Award was just recently created by the incredible Ces at Ces and Her Dishes, to honor her friend and artist, Bella Sinclair, who recently suffered the tragic, unexpected and untimely death of her husband.

As Ces wrote: “I designed this award to celebrate art in the blogs and to honor the value of friendship, sisterhood, sharing and caring. It is to be awarded to the gifted, accomplished, eloquent and talented blogger whose friendship and influence inspire us to do our best. That I named it after Bella Sinclair is because she epitomizes all of these things. She is an inspiration to many of us.”

I am incredibly honored to give this beautiful award "celebrating art, inspiration, friendship, sisterhood, sharing and caring" to:

Angela at Letters from Usedom

Delwyn at a hazy moon

Jan at awake is good

Jackie at Teacher's Pet

Janet at Just Me and My Art

Lola at aglio, olio & peperoncino

Margaret at MargaretPANPipes

Natalie at Musings from the Deep

Rosaria at sixty-five what now

The Mermaid Award was given to me recently by Lola at aglio, olio & peperoncino. Lola is incredibly talented and insightful, a world traveler who works in the film industry and writes her fascinating blog from Rome, Italy.

I am delighted to give the Mermaid Award for “alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive & inspiring blogs” to:

Beate at Beate Knappe mixed media art (this is the first blog I ever read!)

Sallymandy at the blue kimono

Silke at Metamorphosis

Katelen at The Poetic Artist

Sophia at where there are no chickadees

The Golden Heart Award was given to me recently by the wonderful Delwyn at a hazy moon. Her blog about her life in Australia is filled with stunning photography, poetry and art.

I am so pleased to give the Golden Heart Award, for “caring, creative souls” to:

Annette at A Wisp of Creativity

Diantha at Living Your Potential

Michele at Artistic Buffet

Renee at Circling My Head

And last, but definitely not least, I was happy to recently receive the Valued Follower Award from the insightful Sallymandy at the blue kimono. Her blog is filled with wisdom, art and scenes from her beautiful native state of Montana.

I give this award to all of you who visit my blogs (including A note from your Mother) on a regular basis. You know who you are, and I am so honored that you take the time to stop by. I consider each and every one of you my dear Blogland friends, and I treasure you all!


Please be sure to visit each of these wonderful, wonderful blogs, if you have not already done so. They are a feast for the eyes, mind and spirit!

Layers of history - Part 2

I recently was driving down a busy suburban road, when I spotted a sign I had never seen before tucked along the side of the road. Revolutionary War Veteran? In Wisconsin? Wisconsin didn't become a state until 1848.

I had to find a place to turn the car around to see what that was all about.

There, in the middle of suburban sprawl, tucked among some large trees, was a little cemetery from long ago. I love such places. I love the trees, the old monuments, the history. These final resting places capture my imagination. Each person represented here had his or her own history of hopes, dreams, disappointments. A lifetime of days or many, many years.

But I never knew before that here, in Brookfield, Wisconsin, was the final resting place of a Revolutionary War veteran. Nathan Hatch, born in Massachusetts in 1757, died in 1847, he moved to Wisconsin in the 1840s. What a life he must have had!

Wisconsin isn't usually thought of when we learned about the Civil War, but we have our share of veterans from that war buried here, as well as someone who fought in the War of 1812.

I had no idea. I wonder how many people flying by in their vans and SUVs notice this little gem of history.

It really is a lovely peaceful place, hidden in plain view right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of modern life. And, unusual for these times, there really are oaks in Oak Hill Cemetery. Beautiful, tall oaks, providing cooling shade the day I stopped to walk among the markers.

Here's another interesting bit of information about Brookfield, Wisconsin. Did you know that Caroline Ingalls, the mother of author Laura Ingalls Wilder (LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE), was born in Brookfield in 1839? There is even a book about the years she spent in Brookfield, called LITTLE HOUSE IN BROOKFIELD.

Here is a picture of the real Charles and Caroline Ingalls, the parents of Laura Ingalls Wilder.

They don't exactly look like the Ma and Pa Ingalls we know from the television series, do they?

I really enjoy finding the layers of history hidden in the most unlikely places, don't you?

Thanks to all my wonderful Blogland friends who commented on my last posts, I do so enjoy hearing from you and reading your kind comments! And to all my American friends - I hope you have a safe, happy 4th of July weekend!

Layers of hope, layers of history

. . . and a lost great-great-grandfather.

This is the story of how I came to the United States of America, and how I'll never forget my first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

My parents were born in Germany, and my father had always dreamed of coming to America. He craved the wide open spaces, the wilderness of the Rocky Mountains, and the employment opportunities. He had heard a lot of enthusiastic reports about Alberta, Canada, so my parents hopped on an ocean liner, followed by a long train ride, and they settled in the wide open spaces of Alberta.

That's where I was born. The first person in my family to be born outside of Germany.

How exotic!

My father's adventurous spirit led my parents to move around Canada quite a bit the first few years of my life.

Soon, however, homesickness and a strong hunger for the familiar faces and foods of their earlier years led my parents back to Germany. After a few years in Germany, my father again heard North America calling him. This time to the United States, where opportunity awaited.

Back on an ocean liner we went, and we were on our way again.

This was the third ocean liner trip for me, and luckily this time I was old enough to remember it. It was the 1960s, and the end of an era for this kind of travel.

I remember the spray of the ocean, seeing whales and dolphins, and the rocking and rolling of the ship.

I remember my mother getting terribly sea sick, while my father and I were totally unaffected by the constant movement back and forth, back and forth, of the ship. My very young mind decided that, since my mother was Catholic, and my father and I were Protestant, it must be only Catholics who get sea sick.

I don't think this theory of mine comforted my mother very much. She often sent me to the ship's one theater with my new friend, Norbert, where we watched Peter Sellers in "A Shot in the Dark" - - eight times.

I remember the very quiet Chinese man who sat at our table with us at every meal in the dining room.

I remember my father promising me that the first thing we would have when we landed in New York was a hamburger and Canada Dry ginger ale. While my parents had missed the food of Germany, I had missed the foods of Canada.

If I'm not mistaken, the hamburgers I remembered had pickle relish, not pickle slices. They were simple and absolutely delicious.

And nothing quenched my thirst better than the sweet bubbles of Canada Dry ginger ale.

After many, many days, we spotted the New York skyline, and many people streamed onto the ship's deck to see.

Suddenly, there she was, and we were slowly gliding past her. The Statue of Liberty. It's something I will never forget.

After what seemed like hours, we were off the ship, through customs, and had enjoyed our first hamburger and ginger ale, just as my father had promised. Delicious! And the pickle slices were very tasty, indeed!

After many more days of travel, this time by motor coach, we were finally in Wisconsin, a place with many German immigrants just a few hours north of Chicago. It was November, and a new home, new school (English again!), and new friends and experiences awaited.

A lifetime awaited.

But the adventure of how I came to the USA will be with me forever. And I still always get a tingle down my spine and a tear in my eye when I think about how the Statue of Liberty looked from the ocean liner when I was just a little girl.

So here I am, the first person in my family to marry a foreigner. An American of German-Polish-Slovak-Swiss-and possibly Native American heritage.

How exotic!

Oh, the lost great-great-grandfather? My great-great-grandfather actually came to the US in the 1870s, after his wife died in childbirth. He left my great-grandmother, a baby at the time, behind in Germany, to seek his fortune in the US as a gunsmith. After a few years of letters, he was never heard from again.

I've searched the records of immigrants, both here and in ports of departure in Germany, and he is nowhere to be found. I've searched every possible variation of his name. Nothing. He and his time here will remain a mystery.

But like my father, and so many immigrants to any new home, he had hopes and dreams of a better life. I hope he found it.

The beginning of July is important to two of my three homes - Canada and the US - both lands of immigrants. Immigrants with hopes for a better future, and dreams of opportunities for a better life for themselves and their children.

Today, July 1, is Canada Day, so Happy Canada Day to my Canadian friends!

And Happy Fourth of July to everybody here in the US!

Stay safe, everybody.

Hugs,
Angela

Who doesn't like parsley?

Look what I found hidden in the parsley this weekend! After some research, I found out this hungry little guy is a Black Swallowtail caterpillar.

I'm glad I have a good crop of parsley this year, so I have enough to share. Within one day of munching hungrily, he grew to over twice his size. Then he was gone. I hope he wasn't eaten by a hungry bird, because, if he fulfills his potential and becomes a butterfly, he'll be a real beauty.

Black Swallowtail butterfly
Photo by Carol Adams.
From Butterflies and Moths of North America
@butterfliesandmoths.org

If you're interested in butterflies, I found an interesting website, butterflywebsite.com, which provides links to pictures and information about butterflies around the world.

Do you remember this silly little childhood rhyme?

See the pretty butterfly
flutter by

Simplified

Hello there, everybody!

If you were looking for Angela Recada, and nothing looks familiar, it's only because I've decided to simplify the way my blogs look.

Sleek. Stylish. Simple. Fresh.

I have a feeling more big changes will be coming soon . . . but I could be wrong.

:0)

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

"You give to the world
your greatest gift
when you're being yourself."
~ Deepak Chopra

Doing what's important (like knowing about IBC, for example)

It's not always easy to slow down and focus on the present, being really aware of experiences as they happen, but I'm continuing to do my best.

I'm trying to stop and smell the roses.

I'm trying to focus on preparing healthy meals as often as possible,

although sometimes Huevos Rancheros with homemade lowfat refried black beans and homemade salsa are a fun change of pace.

On a health note, if you have never visited my wonderful friend Renee at Circling My Head, you really need to visit her blog to read her post about Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) (click here to connect to the post). Renee was diagnosed with Stage 4 IBC in 2006, and generously shares her wisdom, wit, experiences and struggles with her readers. (She also showcases some of the most incredible art in her posts, for those of us who can't ever get enough art in our lives.)

IBC is not detected by a lump. It is a devastating form of breast cancer that is not well publicized and often misdiagnosed. To find out more about IBC, you could start by visiting the IBC Research Foundation (click here), the National Cancer Institute (click here) or use your search engine to find other sources of information. There are also videos on YouTube, like this one here, which show you what symptoms of IBC look like.

I, personally, am under constant doctor's care because I am at such a high risk for breast cancer, my mother has had it twice, and my aunt died of it. I've lost count of the number of people in my life who have had this horrible disease.

Despite over 30 years of exposure to breast cancer in people I love, I had never heard of IBC until just a few years ago. Many in the medical profession don't know enough about it, either.

Whether you or someone you love has been touched by cancer, and even if you've been one of the lucky few whose life hasn't been touched by it, you owe it to yourself to be informed and be your own health advocate.

I hope you take a look at Renee's blog and the links I've provided, if you don't already know about IBC and its symptoms.

It's been raining men

Yes, this last week it's been raining men around here. We had several crews of construction workers around for a few days. They were doing some much-needed work, replacing our original concrete driveway and walkway to the house. At 52, the concrete had developed some serious cracks and was beginning to sag and bulge in a random places - flaws to which I, personally, can relate.

My son, Little C, has been spending some time at home, much to his doting mother's delight. And my beloved, Mr. C, also took a few days off to help "supervise" the concrete replacement.

Since I am not usually surrounded by men during the day anymore, it was kind of interesting watching them.

There were a few tense moments when the village engineer stopped by to halt the progress of the driveway. Apparently the driveway, the way it existed for 52 years, did not meet the current village code for new construction, so he gave the construction crew grief about it and left without talking to Mr. C.

I must say I was very pleased with the way Mr. C handled the situation, especially since Little C was watching. Mr. C called the village offices, found the engineer and skillfully persuaded him to return to our now quiet construction zone.

Everyone became involved in the very animated discussion (Mr. C., village engineer, construction company co-owner, construction workers). Tape measures were pulled out and flailed about, arms were waving this way and that, men were scurrying up and down the driveway pointing and poking, heads nodded, hands were shaken, smiles were exchanged, and all was well. The driveway project could go on, and the driveway, as it had existed for 52 years, could be replaced without further ado.

All I can say is, I'm glad my Mr. C was home to deal with this. I don't think men and women speak the same language when it comes to these things.

With that, I'll leave you with a video. Does anyone else miss the 1980s? The hair? The comfy clothes with shoulder pads? The dance music?
:0)

Time flies

You will never find time for anything.
If you want time
you must make it.
~ Charles Buxton

Our last high school graduation is now behind us. This week ahead will be filled with many things, including a visit to the university for orientation and registration. How the time has flown! These years from kindergarten to graduation were gone in a heartbeat. Precious time that will not come this way again.

During those years, some days seemed to drag on and on, but the years - they flew by.

This time
like all times
is a very good one
if we but know what to do with it.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Every summer, I make so many plans. Thing I need to do. Things I want to do. Things we will do as a family. Every summer is always too short to do everything.

This summer is especially important to me, because it will probably be the last summer we have the opportunity to spend any significant amount of time together, the four of us.

So this summer, instead of trying to control time and how we fill it, I'm going to try to just let things happen. I'll make time for what's really important, and let the rest take care of itself. Who knows? Maybe we'll have the time to do everything, for a change.

Time flies
like the wind.
Fruit flies
like bananas.
~ Groucho Marx

The joy of joy

Scatter joy.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Every week, every day, has its ups and downs, but I've noticed a great deal of emphasis on joy in many of the blogs I've been reading this week.

Jan at awake is good wrote a post this week entitled "Writing yourself home" where she's asking her readers to join her in beginning a joy journal to help document the little joys in every day. Now, I've tried keeping journals, but have never been successful at it. The closest I've come is this blog.

But as I read her description of a joy journal, I realized I could do this. In fact, I try to do it here as often as possible. I can keep a journal of things, big and small, that have brought me joy on any given day. Some days it may be something very small, but every day there is something that gives me joy. A picture, a quote, a thought, hearing an old song. If you'd like to join in, or just follow along, simply click on the links in the paragraph above. Jan's blog is filled with insight, wise words and soothing images. I know Jan would love to hear your thoughts!

Silke at Metamorphosis is spreading joy, too. In a post this week she's showing her appreciation by having a giveaway (winners will be announced early next week). She a relatively new blogger who just recently discovered that she's a talented mixed media artist! To thank all the people who have supported her in this new journey, she'll be giving away two 5 x 7 archival quality prints of two of her favorite paintings. You should visit her beautiful blog, which is scattered with recipes, her art and lovely photos of her beloved Savannah, Georgia and native Germany. I know she'd love to meet you!

Here are some quotes I found today that gave me joy:

. . . joy and sorrow are inseparable. . .
together they come
and when one sits alone with you. . .
remember
that the other is asleep upon your bed.
~ Kahlil Gibran

We could never learn to be brave
and patient
if there were only joy in the world.
~ Helen Keller

Grief can take care of itself,
but to get the full value of joy
you must have somebody to divide it with.
~ Mark Twain

Find a place inside where there's joy,
and the joy will burn out the pain.
~ Joseph Campbell

We need Joy as we need air
We need Love as we need water
We need each other as we need the earth we share
~ Maya Angelou

Joy is not in things,
it is in us.
~ Richard Wagner

. . . keep knocking,
and the Joy inside will eventually open a window
and look to see who's there.
~ Rumi

One cannot consent to creep
when one has an impulse to soar.
~ Helen Keller

A bit impish

Humor is a reminder
that no matter how high the throne one sits on,
one sits on one's bottom.
~ Taki

My sincere thanks to everyone who commented on yesterday's post! I really appreciate everyone's input and advice. And thanks to my dear Mr. C's love of technology, I am now using Firefox and will be back to visiting everyone regularly again soon.

I think I was overcome by an attack of giddiness yesterday (and, today, too - I think). When I was e-mailing, using my Yahoo e-mail account, I discovered the emoticons and used them for the first time.

Since I started blogging, I've found myself using smiley faces and exclamation points rather frequently, something I never used to do. :0) I've been trying to quit, but allowed myself to be briefly tempted by those incredibly cute yellow faces. To anyone who received an emoticon-laced e-mail yesterday, I'm truly sorry. :0)

I think it has something to do with the fact that, when I speak, I tend to use my hands (a lot!), as well as a good number of facial expressions, along with my words. I've been told I'd be a very effective actress.

Humor is the great thing, the saving thing.
The minute it crops up,
all our irritation and resentments slip away,
and a sunny spirit takes their place.
~ Mark Twain

It's funny how life is sometimes. I even found some humor of sorts in our own garden. If you take a close look at the photo below (click on it, if you'd like to enlarge the photo), you can see what looks like spit. It is, in fact, something called a Spittlebug.

This frothy residue is left on plants by this cute little guy:

If you feel inclined to learn more about the amazing Spittlebug, there is probably more than you ever wish to know here.

I find that in times of stress, turmoil, upheaval, or just plain every day, a touch of humor lightens my heart and shines a light in my soul. I hope you find a bit of impishness, a bit of humor, in your day today!
:0)

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing,
moving at different speeds.
A sense of humor is just common sense,
dancing.
~ William James