It's All About the Journey

Today is your future. Live in the moment!


1 Comment

Book Review Time, for the Young at Heart

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/564/44495622/files/2014/12/img_8461.jpg
My dear friend and author, Brenda Erickson, wrote this sweet little story, with the help of Bunny and Mr. Kittens.
My dear little grandchildren became the recipients of this little book at Christmas, and we couldn’t have been more delighted! Bunny’s space suit was perfect for this adventure, and she really brought out his true character here!

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/564/44495622/files/2014/12/img_8463.jpg
As an avid reader, I truly enjoyed this adventure and look forward to perhaps another adventure, Bunny seems to be up to those types of things.
The book is published through blurb.com. Best wishes and congratulations to Brenda and Bunny for this great tale!

Advertisements

A Festive NYC Tradition: Holiday Windows on Fifth Ave

For those of us too far to get there, Merry Christmas, enjoy this show of window dressings from NYC!

almostfreeNYC

This year, the Christmas windows on Fifth Ave are another unforgettable display.  If you’re visiting the city during the holidays, definitely don’t miss out on seeing the iconic NYC tradition.  Department stores in cities all over the world dress up their windows in elaborate displays during the holidays, but nothing compares to the holiday themed windows of NYC that started it all. 


Saks Fifth Avenue 

“We want to leave our audience breathless. The Experience is Everything.”

                  – Marigay McKee, President of Saks Fifth Avenue 

This year, the theme for the Saks holiday windows is An Enchanted Experience, which features six animated windows displaying scenes of classic fairy tales with iconic NYC locations as the backdrop.  In honor of the history of Saks Fifth Ave, each holiday window is composed of a classic fairytale scene with Snow White, Cinderella, Little Red Riding…

View original post 167 more words

This gallery contains 1 photo.


1 Comment

My Story of Mrs. Butterfield

Everyone has a story about something or someone.

My story of Mrs. Butterfield started for me on a road trip across the United States.  It is true there is nothing bigger than a Kansas sky.  While the fields were straight as far as the eye could see, the sky, blue as blue can be and dotted with white cotton ball clouds, was even bigger, and it held my attention a great deal of the trip through Kansas.  But, upon entering Kansas, we stopped at the welcome center, and while there, I picked up a little yellow brochure about buffalo meat, and a farm that produced it.  Later that fall, I contacted the farm, spoke to a Mrs. Butterfield, and chose a quarter of buffalo. I chose a variety of cuts, let’s experiment!   It arrived perfectly packaged, in dry ice.

Later, picking through my purchases, I discovered a package called “Buffalo Fries.”  Hm.  What is this?  I took it out, thawed it, unwrapped it.  Two shiny, white, egg shaped things.  What are they?  As a part of my evening meal preparation, I called Mrs. Butterfield.  The dear lady was very gracious in telling me that, yes, they are TESTICLES.  But, if I slice them while still slightly frozen, I could fry them, serve them, and no one would really know their exact origin.  Except me.  Well, we tried them, they were okay.  I’m sure I could have done better by them had I served them amid onions perhaps, and some garlic, but being a simple cook, I had just fried them.  If there were leftovers, they were not saved…

A few years later, I contacted Mrs. Butterfield again, but with a more modified order:  steaks, roasts, and ground meat.  These orders lasted us almost two years, and it was superb.

Several years passed and my life changed.  I moved to upstate New York.  I thought often of Mrs. Butterfield, and her wonderful buffalo meat and called her.  The years, however, had changed things, her husband’s health had broken and they were no longer in the buffalo business.  But it was lovely to speak to her again, and she DID remember me, which I thought was so amazing.  I have always pictured her as a small, gray haired woman with a bun, wire framed glasses and sporting an apron.  But she could have been tall, with short hair, in jeans and a plaid shirt as well.

Two years later I had a trip planned to Kansas, dropping off a dog and a car for my dear daughter, who moved to Kansas to change her life.  I tried to call Kaye, but there was no answer.

I do not know whatever became of Mrs. Butterfield, or if she is still around.  I do miss speaking to her, but I have wonderful memories of our conversations, and I think of her from time to time.

Thanks for the memories, Kaye Butterfield!


A Man’s Life

Overwhelmed by Emerson this morning, he writes:

…we are not permitted to stand as spectators of the pageant which the times exhibit: we are parties also, and have a responsibility which is not to be declined.  A little while this interval of wonder and comparison is permitted us, but to the end that we shall play a manly part.  As the solar system moves forward in the heavens, certain stars open before us, and certain stars close up behind us; so is a man’s life.

We stand in the light of Ideas, whose rays stream through us to those younger and more in the dark…Today is a King in disguise.  Today always looks mean to the thoughtless, in the face of a uniform experience, that all good and great and happy actions are made up precisely of these blank days.

Let us play our part well.

156639_648982536933_333331563_n


Market Street

As I was reading this, I wandered through Emerson and stopped when he wrote: “…we are not permitted to stand as spectators of the pageant which the times exhibit: we are parties also…”

Become a part of this glorious Universe…

infloressence

Walking in soft
November rain
the sky is dark
the air is alive
the street shines
the city sleeps
and I walk
the old path
down the hills
drawn to the bay

View original post


The Word for Today

I have not many thoughts of my own today, only peaceful feelings from the readings of Emerson and Thoreau.  Sometimes they are too great for me and I have to sit back and ponder.  I don’t know if I told you, I have a little notebook I write their words in. I read and reflect, I keep it close at hand.  I try to add my own, Emerson has encouraged that, although I must admit I am far from his eloquence.

Sit back and ponder with me, if you will…

Thoreau (from Walden, in the Conclusion):

“..and think of your work with satisfaction,–every nail should be as another rivet in the machine of the universe, you carrying on the work….

Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.  I sat at  table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable  board….

As I stand over the insect crawling amid the pine needles on the forest floor, and endeavoring to conceal itself from my sight, and ask myself why it will cherish those humble thoughts, and impart to its race some cheering information, I am reminded of the greater Benefactor and Intelligence that stands over me the human insect.

The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us.  Only that day dawns to which we are awake.  There is more day to dawn.  The sun is but a morning star.

IMG_7988