I'm a 57 year old lover of life, family, friends, and creative writing (amongst numerous other activities, people, animals, big ideas, and things). I am a native Minnesotan now living in my happy place of "Minnesconsin". I was a case manager/social worker for many years in Wisconsin and am now ready for my new chapter in life as a writer. I enjoy writing about my day to day (mis)adventures, the people I love and those that inspire me, places I've traveled to, music that makes my world go 'round, politics and current affairs, and general observations and ideas about life and ideas on how it could be improved. My hope is that my blog will be interactive and uplifting.
Hey, blogger friends, regular friends, and creatives behind the scenes at WordPress 🙂
The timing of this writing prompt is weirdly perfect for me on this calm Tuesday morning here in Minnesconsin.
I haven’t published a blog post in a couple of weeks or so for a million good reasons, none of which are that I haven’t wanted to.
But right now, in this moment, I feel at peace. The house is quiet, the doggies are too (which is liable to change any second now).
The only sound I’m hearing this morning is the soft snoring of the little babe right next to me.
Yes, I’m watching our 6-week-old grandbaby Levi today while his Mommy goes to work (her second day back after maternity leave) and his Daddy attends to some important personal business until later this afternoon.
Watching him is absolutely mesmerizing to me. Those little fluttering eyelids and occasional smiles as he enjoys his sweet baby dreams. The little bit of drool escaping his perfect little rosebud lips. Those soft cheeks that are getting chubbier by the day.
Any thoughts I had upon waking this morning about what needs to get done on my ever-evolving “to-do” list have evaporated. This babe with spit bubbles forming on his lips is all that matters right now, and I’m going to soak up this beautiful peace this morning and let things be.
Our newest grandson, Levi, was born healthy and beautiful on 6/28. He’s got the cute little nose gene from Mr. NOA’s side of the family. He’s got blond hair, like his daddy and his 11-year-old brother. He is simply precious and so very loved.
On the day Levi was born, our oldest grandson (the 11-year-old) and I took our kayaks out on the lake for the first time. One thing checked off my summer bucket list! The kid was a natural in his kayak. Me, not so much. But I did not, to my surprise and delight, tip mine over, despite how wobbly I was for the first 15 minutes in that thing.
We “hosted” our daughter’s family’s puppy, Dash, for a couple of weeks while they settled in at home with baby Levi. They have another dog, the scrappy daschund/pug mix, Max, and the two of them together in a house with a new baby and two other kids is a lot for them to handle. Mr. NOA and I made it clear to the kids that we are open to keeping Dash for good. He and Radar get along well, and Dash really benefits from having an older dog around to model how to be a good boy.
Dash in a rare moment of restRadar, the OG
A couple of weekends ago, Mr. NOA pulled the camper out of it’s space next to the “We Shed”, after it sat unused for the better part of three years. We cleaned it from top to bottom, inside and outside. We took it, along with Radar, up to the Northland to visit family and friends last weekend. It was so good to reconnect with the people we love and soak up the natural beauty of our surroundings.
Dash stayed with the kids while we were away. While it went well for them, they did ultimately decide that Dash is better off staying with us for good.
So, now we are a two dog household!
As far as blogging goes, I’m taking things in stride. Life has been more eventful (clearly) as of late, so publishing posts here has been sporadic. I suspect it will continue to be so throughout the remainder of this summer.
A few pics from our trip to the Northland:
Instead of my usual song at the end of this post, I’m sharing a video I took on my sister and her husband’s property last weekend. I’ve gotten slightly better at taking videos with my phone, but I do apologize for the speed at which I moved it as I was capturing this footage. I hope it’s not too jarring. I recommend having the sound up so you can better appreciate the soothing sounds of the babbling Baptism River.
I’m hesitant to celebrate this day, because I’m just so disappointed in where we are as a nation. My heart feels heavy and my natural optimistic tendencies are waning.
As you all are likely aware, the bill that strips the poor of their health care, will likely lead to the closure of rural hospitals (like the one my newest grandson was born at), takes food away from families that rely on SNAP, greatly increases spending for the ICE thugs to kidnap and disappear both law-abiding undocumented immigrants and American citizens alike, while giving billionaires tax cuts that will surely not “trickle down” to benefit working folks like you and me, passed in the Senate yesterday.
My fellow Americans, the country we grew up in is not the same. It’s been reshaped by greed and cruelty. We have fallen so far. Our nation’s people have been monumentally manipulated by power-hungry, evil actors.
My biggest hope is that we’ll somehow get ourselves out of this horrific mess. A revolution, powered by the people of America, is needed now. I sense it is coming. I pray it will be peaceful, but I recognize that is unrealistic. There’s too much anger (the righteous kind) amongst our populace and we’re scrappy…right? There’s so many of us that did not consent to this baloney.
Suffice it to say, I’m unable to muster any sense of pride in America today.
The best I can do is continue to speak out, stand up for what is right, and focus on the America that could be. The America that celebrates the immigrant. The America that feeds the hungry and lifts up the poor. The America that stands for due process and the freedom to love, live, and pursue each citizen’s own version of happiness. The America that works to preserve democracy, the health of our planet, and the well-being of all the people living here.
So, Happy Independence Day to those who celebrate and those whose heart is just not in it this year.
I may not be proud of America at the moment, but I love her anyway.
The thing about summer is that it’s so fleeting. It comes up so fast and before you know it, the leaves are changing and the temps are dropping. Boats are put away for the season and kids are getting back to school.
Here in Minnesconsin, it is just now starting to feel like a proper summer. We have had so much rain it’s ridiculous. And if it wasn’t raining, it was in the high 90’s. As a result, we’ve been spending more time indoors than we had hoped to.
Today, however, it’s in the mid-70’s with nary a cloud in the sky. Mr. NOA and I are planning to take a cruise on our pontoon once he’s done with his workday.
I have a history of being that person with lots of grand ideas about cramming as much fun into the summer season as possible. I’m determined that this summer, with our newest grandson about to be born (daughter is being induced on Friday!), things will be less frenzied than summers past.
There’s no big travel plans on the horizon, save for a few days visiting my side of the family in northern Minnesota. We are, for the most part, staying put.
But staying put doesn’t mean fun isn’t going to be had. The fun, however, will be localized and simple.
Things like making homemade ice cream with the fancy machine my awesome SIL got me for Christmas. As many pontoon rides as possible. ‘Smores over the campfire. Putting ice cubes in the kiddy pool for Radar and our kid’s two dogs to play in on a hot day. Drinking wine on the patio at our local winery. Seeing a summer blockbuster movie in the theater. Playing croquet in the yard with our 11-year-old grandson. Gardening and further beautifying our outdoor space. Getting out in our kayaks.
And of course, rocking that baby.
I’ve created a Spotify playlist for our pontoon excursions this summer. It’s filled with “yacht rock” style music, mostly from the 70’s and 80’s. I’ll be adding this one as soon as I hit the publish button on this post.
Please share what’s on your summer bucket list in the comments!
Over the course of my life, I have been fortunate to be the recipient of several quilts and afghans.
My mom, Bonnie, was so creative. I am a creative spirit as well, but the execution of my creative ideas is historically pretty spotty. One of Bonnie’s creative pursuits was sewing quilts and making afghans. They are some of my most prized possessions.
I am in awe of those who can create in this way. I never had the manual dexterity nor the type of brain required to create works of art such as these. In fact, I vividly recall back in about 8th grade being unable to finish the sundress I was supposed to make in Home-Ec class. My BFF, who had decided to sew herself a sundress alongside me in this class, also had a mother who was a talented seamstress, I wound up relying on her to finish my pitiful project. God bless that woman. Don’t ask me why I didn’t ask Bonnie for help, because I don’t recall. I imagine shame was involved.
This is all to say that I cherish the quilts and afghans that have been bequethed to me over the years because of the love, artistry, and tedious work that was put into them.
If you’ve been reading this little blog of mine for a bit, you may recall that Mr. NOA and I recently celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary. There was one very special gift we were given as a wedding present.
It was this quilt.
It was made by Paula, the wife of Mr. NOA’s boss at the time, a man named Ken. Mr. NOA, who is a bit more than 3 years younger than me, was in his last year of college when he was hired by Ken, who ran a small vending machine business that stocked vending machines on our college campus and the larger community. Ken was blind and needed someone to not only help him with the manual labor of stocking the vending machines but he also needed a driver.
The fact that Paula, whom I believe I only met once or twice, sewed this quilt for us to commemorate our new marriage, really touched our hearts.
This quilt has been laid on by drooling babies (our daughter being the first). It has kept us warm while we laid under it on our tent-camping trips. It has served as protection for us as a family from the rugged ground it covered as we watched the fireworks on the 4th of July or enjoyed live music outdoors.
For the last three years, however, this quilt has been quietly taking up space in the trunk at the foot of our bed.
As I got a wild hair the other night and decided to pull this beauty out of its hiding spot, Mr. NOA and I talked about its future.
I think one of two things ought to happen: I find a local seamstress who can restore it to it’s former glory (if you zoom in, you can see the rips and tears here and there), OR I find another creative who can repurpose it. I’m thinking they would carefully cut it up and place it in a shadowbox frame. Maybe a couple of them, so baby Levi (who’s coming soon!) can have one hanging in his room too.
Mr. NOA, on the other hand, said he thinks we should just…let it be. Keep it in it’s current form and use it as we always have. Maybe we could lay it out in our yard late at night and gaze at the stars with it underneath our outstretched bodies. Maybe it could be cover for our 11 year-old grandson when he’s sleeping overnight with us in our camper. Maybe we pull it out for Levi to rest on when he’s at our house and it’s “tummy time”.
Knowing myself as I think I do, I feel a sense of urgency to decide this beloved heirloom’s fate; otherwise there’s a damn good chance it’s going back in the trunk and forgotten about while my brain comes up with yet another creative repurposing idea that may never come to fruition.
~As always, I have a song to share that fits the vibe I’m in while writing this piece today~
It was a personal life update sorta deal that I would do periodically. I leaned in on words like “current” (which is a state I prefer to live in and write about) and “rocking” or “rolling”.
Anyway, for today, I’m going to just revive that if you please.
Thanks to the support of Mr. NOA, my sister, and my daughter’s “bonus moms”, our daughter and future son-in-law’s baby shower went off without a hitch. We had plenty of room in our shed (which I’m now and forever referring to as the “we shed“) to hold the approximately 30 people that came to celebrate the imminent birth of baby Levi.
The food was a hit and there was plenty of it. It warmed my heart to see our daughter’s friends show up to support her. She and her fiance now have virtually everything they need to welcome baby Levi home this summer.
And the best part?
Just look at those happy faces!
How was everyone’s Memorial Day weekend?
Did you do anything fun?
Did you spend it with people you love? Did you go anywhere new?
Yesterday was our 35th wedding anniversary. Not that we didn’t feel this warranted a big, splashy celebration, but we chose to stay home together and have a simple weekend. As today is my regular day off from work, and yesterday was a paid holiday for us, we’re on day 4 of this little “staycation” here in Minnesconsin.
It’s been sweet.
The kids all came over yesterday afternoon and we had a little picnic lunch and a ride on the pontoon. Mr. NOA wore his “Call Me Captoon” t-shirt for the event, which I loved. Our 11-year-old grandson caught a fish (not quite a keeper, unlike this kid) using a bit from the cherries I had packed in one of the coolers.
Mr. NOA and I, earlier in the weekend, drove over to one of our favorite stores for supplies we needed to start giving our yard and gardens some love. If you’re from the Upper Midwest like we are, you’ll know the name of the place by these words “Save Big Money at….”.
As the two of us are on a mission this summer to intentionally invest in and nurture the land we live on, we bought rose bushes, multiple bags of mulch, landscaping cloth, and blueberry bushes. Thankfully, we’ll get an 11% rebate! #iykyk.
Then we got to work.
Rose bushes were planted on either side of the garage door. Grass seed was sprinkled on some bare patches in the yard. Landscaping cloth was laid down, with mulch placed on top and then evened out. Blueberry bushes were planted in a special spot where I can see them from my kitchen window (a feature my dear father-in-law wisely noted three years ago, when we were house-hunting here in Minnesconsin, that I would personally most appreciate in any house we bought ).
So, as cheesy as it may sound, today I say “Life is Good”.
And because online this morning I read a beautifully written, heartfelt story written by the artist Michael Franti. It was about his two moms, who both recently passed away, just 6 weeks apart from each other. One was his adoptive mom, and the other, his birth mom. I’m going to share a song from him because I love his music.
This song, in particular, feels to me like a great choice for ushering in summer.
Let me just say my love of shopping at thrift stores will never wane.
This picture is of the books I picked up on my latest trip to our local Goodwill.
I just finished the one at the top of the pile, “The Bookshop on the Corner”. It was an enjoyable read; a sweet yet meandering story of romance and friendship, riddled with phrasings I was unfamiliar with but nonetheless got the gist of. More than anything, though, it made me want to visit Scotland.
Now the question is, which book shall I tear into next? I’m partial to “Soul Pancake”, written by Rainn Wilson (Dwight Schrute from “The Office”).
If these were your books, which one would you read next?
In other news, I have a short story about one of the other things I picked up at Goodwill that day.
Even if I’m on a mission to find used books or home decor when I walk into a thrift store, I will always end up perusing the racks of clothes when I’m there. I just can’t help myself.
So, after finding the books I’m reading next and a few other random items, I mosey on over to those racks. Knowing that soon I’ll be participating in another anti-tRump administration rally/protest, I’m thrilled to see the *perfect* t-shirt for this (and future such) events.
Dear friends: the t-shirt was light blue and my size. Emblazoned with stars, it read “In My Enraged Era”. As a fan of Taylor Swift (who feels a bit too old to refer to themselves as a “Swiftie”, especially given the fact that I can’t tell you which of her albums resonates with me the most), who is, indeed, quite enraged about the state of America under tRump 2.0, it felt like serendipity.
So, Mr. NOA and I attended the rally/protest that Saturday. I, proudly wearing my cool new t-shirt and holding up the sign I made earlier that morning, was feeling pretty sassy. Having just gotten my hair chopped off and highlighted earlier in the week also boosted my sense of righteous indignation.
It was all (in my head) “I’m enraged and I’m not going to take it anymore” vibes that day.
If you look closely at the t-shirt, you’ll know where the rest of this story is going.
Later that evening, just as I was about to get ready for bed, I happened to glance down at my cool new t-shirt.
Ope! I read the shirt wrong!!!
It actually says “In my engaged era”
In hindsight, I realize this likely was a t-shirt made to be purchased by a newly engaged-to-be-married person to wear to their engagement party.
The irony is that I opened my big mouth on this blog back in January and claimed this was my year of “intentionality”. Yet, being intentional is akin to being “engaged”, right?
And I am engaged: in day-to-day life, engaged with blogging, engaged in my workplace, engaged in the relationships I share with the people I love, engaged with my creative spirit, and engaged in good trouble as an American voter. And I endeavor to maintain this engagement.
So, that’s the story of how I went from enraged to engaged.
Or maybe it’s a story of how we all see what we want to see sometimes and not what is actually there.
Or maybe it’s a lesson for me to continue to engage with my enragement as our administration continues their reckless and evil doings to the people of this country I love.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’m sharing a Taylor Swift song that best captures the feeling of enragement for me.
I recently caught myself adding “make to-do lists” for various events coming up in my life on my semi-regular weekly “to-do” list.
Yes, I am neurotic. And/or ADHD.
Let’s just say I am in full-on planning mode right now, friends. I am a bit out of practice in this arena, as the last gathering I executed with more than 8 invitees was almost 10 years ago.
The nearest of these happenings is the baby shower I’m planning for my beautiful daughter, who just arrived at the third trimester of her second pregnancy. This is coming up in less than 2 weeks.
Yikes!
I’ve got games lined up. What’s a baby shower without a few goofy games, right? One of the games is an A-Z challenge where people are given a set amount of time to write down baby names. Whoever gets the most wins a prize.
Silly yet serious question: do I play a song-maybe one with the word baby in the title, or use one of the plastic hourglass timers from one of the many board games we rarely play, while folks are rapidly trying to capture every baby name they can think of on paper? I want to make sure everyone has enough, but not too much, time for this challenge.
Here’s another one: do I fulfill my hosting daydreams by baking various sweet treats to display on the beautiful tiered treat stand thing that I’m on a mission to buy this weekend? In addition to the cake I ordered yesterday from the grocery store bakery, because like those aforementioned goofy games, what’s a baby shower without a cake?
These are but a few of the thoughts that are plaguing my brain these days.
These two kids of ours-our daughter and her fiance-have not yet determined baby’s name. There have been a few (which I won’t share because one of them I really love and secretly hope they choose and I don’t want to jinx it) they have talked about, but at this point they think they’ll know baby’s name when they see his face.
Plot twist!
I wrote the above paragraph earlier in the week…and guess what? Our daughter texted me yesterday to say they have landed on a name. It is the one I favored! His name will be Levi.
From parents.com: The name Levi has become a favorite amongst new parents for being both traditional and trendy. It means “united,” “joined,” or, sometimes, “joined in harmony.”
To think that 11 years ago, I was beside myself with angst about becoming a first-time grandma at the oh-so-young age of 47!
I’ve looped in our daughter’s fiance’s mom and step-mom to help with executing this affair. I find it slightly awkward texting back and forth with them, as I’ve only met them in person a handful of times since our kids got together almost 3 years ago. But I am looking forward to interacting with my future son-in-law’s large family as time goes on. This baby shower is going to usher in the joining of our families.
Isn’t it just an amazing and beautiful thing how families evolve over time?
Enjoy this cover of a sweet song I love to sing to babies!
A few weeks ago, my 11 year-old grandson and I went to our local Dollar General store. As he’s wont to do, he dashed around the store looking for treasures for me to buy for him.
One such treasure was a Rubik’s cube. I pointed out that he already had one, and he informed me that it was misplaced. So, I told him to put it in my cart.
Soon after, the kid was searching for images of flags around the world and happily maneuvering the cube to re-create the images of flags.
“Look Grandma-it’s Belize!”
“Look Grandma-it’s Italy!”
“Look Grandma-it’s Turkey!”
I love his creative, curious spirit.
My Dad, Babe, served in the Korean War. From him, I learned to always respect the flag. He took pride in displaying the American flag in front of our house. He kept it in pristine condition (like he did with virtually every single thing).
Mr. NOA and I were recently on our way in our trusty Tacoma to a medical appointment (no worries, all is well) about 45 minutes away. A house on a corner featured a tRump flag. Two, actually. I instinctively shook my head in frustration upon seeing this particular flag in someone’s yard. Then my eye caught another (tRump) flag on the other side of the yard. Only this one was horribly tattered. It had sun damage and almost appeared to have been the victim of a toddler with a pair of scissors.
Upon pointing it out to Mr. NOA (unfortunately I wasn’t swift enough to capture the image of this forlorn flag), he said “it’s tattered, just like our country is now”. True that, as they say.
I remember a phrase Kamala Harris said often during her ill-fated presidential campaign: it’s a crying shame. She said it about many different things, but often it was about the economic struggles faced by low to mid-income hard-working American families. That really resonated with me, because I felt she was speaking from her heart. She knew that if there was to be a second tRump administration, things would certainly get worse for Americans.
Indeed, things have gotten much, much worse here in the good old U.S.A. On so many levels.
The overwhelm I feel about it all threatens to render me helpless. I think acknowledging that is helpful. As is giving myself permission to retreat from it all from time to time, in an effort to retain my sanity.
Not completely retreat, mind you. I care too much about the future of this country and my fellow citizens for that.
I’ve been doing itty bitty things here and there to stay engaged in the resistance to this evil regime. Like sending postcards to the White House, expressing my disgust of this administration’s willfull resistance to the rule of law. I’ve made calls and sent emails to my state senators, urging them to do the right thing and oppose this administration. Mr. NOA and I attended a rally last weekend in a nearby town, holding signs we made for the occasion. It lifted my spirits to be amongst the 25 or so other folks expressing collective outrage at what is happening to our country.
We plan on attending the next rally, scheduled for the first Saturday in May. My hope is that even more people will join us; perhaps some of the folks driving past us during the first rally who enthusiastically honked their horns and gave us “thumbs ups”.
It seems to me that if every one of us who is against what is happening to democracy in America right now does what they can, what they feel able to do with whatever time/energy/skills they possess, we have a chance at getting this ship turned around and on a better path for us all.
I’ve been on a classic rock and protest song kick lately, so I’ll leave you with this gem.
Are you like me, who has certain words that just…grate? Words that you hear so much, seemingly everywhere you go, whether online or IRL, that they at minimum lose their meaning and maximum make you want to throw things?
I could preface what I’m about to say with the phrase “unpopular opinion”, but to me that’s another phrase that I dislike because of it’s overuse in the current American English lexicon. It’s certainly an attention-grabber, but it seems to me whatever comes next after that phrase is often not an unpopular opinion.
I believe “journey” is an over-used word.
I prefer the word “path” (says the blogger with the word path in the title of their publication).
Per Merriam-Webster, the definition of the word “journey” is thus: “something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another”.
Also per Merriam-Webster, the definition of the word “path” is both “a trodden way” and “a track specially constructed for a specific use”.
I recognize and appreciate that both the words “journey” and “path” are often used figuratively as opposed to literally.
I prefer the word “path” over “journey” because it feels more concrete. It’s not so “hippy dippy” sounding; it connotes purposeful action. The word “path” feels weightier and rougher. More grounded and real than the ethereal “journey”.
This is why I’m glad I chose to call this blog “Pollyanna’s Path” and not “Pollyanna’s Journey”. It suits me better.
Now, the “Pollyanna” part is a whole other ball of wax for me at this point on my blogging path. I may pontificate on that in a future blog post.
The “path” part feels right to me creatively. I created this “track” just over 8 years ago. It hasn’t been entirely smooth or straight. It’s had moments where it lost its way a bit and moments of silent reflection. It’s had times where it saw something shiny in the distance and switched gears to try something new. Sometimes it resonated with readers, sometimes it did not. It’s all part of this writing path of mine.
I do, however, quite enjoy one version of “journey”…..
Pollyanna's Path 