Jenny Lind Portrait ~ A Favorite Thing

Some years back, while browsing in a local antique mall, I came across this charming oval-framed lithograph print, titled “Jenny Lind.” The price was reasonable, so I brought her home with me and have loved her ever since.

 

It appears to be old, with the original description label on the back.

 

 

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Jenny Lind was a Swedish singer, born in 1820, and known as the "Swedish Nightingale." She toured the world and created an operatic sensation. At the age of 18, she became the prima donna at the Royal Opera in Stockholm. Her concert tour of America began in 1850 and brought her international fame. In later years, she became a philanthropist and taught singing at the Royal College of Music. She died in 1887.

The artist, Eduard Magnus (January 7, 1799 – August 8, 1872) was a German painter. The original Jenny Lind painting hangs in the Berlin National Gallery.

 

My “Jenny Lind” hangs in the foyer.

I love it best in the fall, when the sun hangs low in the sky.

At a certain time, for a few minutes each day, autumn’s shadows do magical things. (I should probably add that this is not direct sun, but filtered and doesn't last but a few minutes.)

 

By now, you can see why my “Jenny Lind” lithograph is a favorite thing, and I’m sharing her beauty at the FavoriteThing party over at Claudia's lovely blog.

 

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Writing can help with unresolved issues

Whenever I thumb through one of my many old journals, I find strength in reading about past struggles, how I got from Point A to Point B, how my feelings may have evolved along the way. From anger, to forgiveness. From frightened, to fearless. From apathetic, to enthusiastic.


Consider this blurb from a journal entry of mine, dated October 25, 1999:

 

 

The pain in my heart is never far away. I miss what used to be, and I can't do anything to fix it.

But just four days later, I can see that I'm inching forward when I wrote these words:

Prayer always lightens our load. We never come away from a time of prayer feeling worse—always better. God understands our grief and heartache. He's carried a load much greater than ours, and He knows how to soothe us when it feels as if our hearts will break. Like seasons, our lives experience a flow of changes—sometimes growing, sometimes waiting, sometimes fruitful, sometimes barren. No season is wasted or useless. In time, we will see the reasons behind them all.

 

Perhaps you've never kept a journal, or even written your feelings in a blog. You might ask, "Why bother? It's over and done with. What's the point?"

To be honest, there are few activities as helpful as journaling during the tough times. I can't explain how it works; I just know that it does. The very act of writing, of putting pen to paper, carries with it a power that releases and relieves. (I blogged in detail about a personal experience here.)

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Ina Albert is a healthcare communications expert and an author. Perhaps she expressed it best when she wrote:
 

Every unresolved issue begs, borrows or steals the energy we need for our own healing. Most of us deal with only part of our life experience. The moment we bury what we can’t bear to look at, we decrease our chance for the recovery we desire. Unresolved issues become crippling.

Whether you’re in a hard place right now, or still carrying the weight around of things past, why not take some time to put your thoughts and feelings on paper? It doesn’t sound like much, I know, but, in time, you’ll see that it is.

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Inside and Outside ~ Autumn has Arrived

When it comes to decorating, whatever the season may be, I'm a simple kind of gal. Give me plain Jane and I'm a happy camper. I'm not much into frills and voluminous things. It's just not me. So, without further ado, here's the fall decor in all of its non-voluminous glory.

The mantel got a little tweaking this year. 

To be honest, I opened my "fall" box and just stuck whatever came out first up there.

The old blanket chest holds pieces of the past.

Speaking of the past, this family photo (taken by my twin sister) always finds a home on the wall in autumn. 

I remember this autumn day so well.

The foyer could have used a bit more attention, but it suits me fine.

The framed leaves on this shelf have a very special meaning. They warm my heart every time I see them. 

I blogged about it here.

For some reason, I find a berry wreath to be quite charming.

My favorite candle of the season, pumpkin spice, adorns the drop-leaf table.

Even the photo basket got dressed up with a pine cone from the front yard.

(Yep, that would be me and twin sister, with big sister in the foreground.)

Ah, the golden hues of fall. 

What's not to love?

Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

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I'm partying with the following gals:

A Stroll Thru Life (Tabletop Tuesday)

Cedar Hill Ranch (Cowgirl Up!)

Cozy Little House (Tweak It Tuesday)

The Onion Jar ~ A Favorite Thing

This adorable little onion jar belonged to my maternal grandmother. As long as I can remember, it was always in her kitchen whenever we would visit. And to my knowledge, there were never any onions in it.

On the bottom, it is marked, “DeForest of California” and indicates it is hand-painted. All I know about the DeForest company is that it grew from the hobby of Margaret DeForest and was in operation between 1950 and 1970.

I don’t recall how the little onion jar ended up with me, but I’m happy it did. It is one of my favorite things.

I’m sharing again this week at Claudia’s "A Favorite Thing" party, over at Mockingbird Hill Cottage. And I was honored that Claudia has featured my post from last week—the one about the Singer sewing machine—in her post today. Thanks, Claudia!

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Celebrating Autumn

On Tuesday, after night had fallen and the world was quiet, The Man opened the front door to let Diesel out to do his business. In a minute, he stuck his head back in. "Have you been outside tonight?" I told him, no I had not. He motioned for me to get off the couch, so I did.

"Oh my," I said, as I stepped out into the September night. "I think fall has arrived. I almost need a sweater."

While the temps remain warm in the daytime here in Southeast Texas, the humidity is so low, and the nights so cool, I'm convinced that, even though it's not September 22nd yet, the change has officially taken place. I'm convinced that AUTUMN is here, my favorite season of all. That special time of year when the sun begins its descent in the sky, when the days are shorter, the nights longer, and the shadows lengthening.

Is there a better way to celebrate the coming Autumnal Equinox (which occurs September 22, 23, or 24 every year) than by picking out pumpkins?

It didn't take us long to find exactly what we were looking for.

 

Back at the house, I had picked up a couple of crotons several days earlier, as I do enjoy their fall colors, so next on the autumn celebration agenda was getting them in the ground. (I only hope I didn't wait too late; they looked a bit punier than when I bought them.)

Even though her little face is a picture of solemnity, I assure you sugar plum loves the gardening gloves I bought her recently. 

She's needed them for some time now, as one of her favorite activities, whenever she's here, is helping Aunt Dayle "pick weeds," and "water plants." Yes, a little gardener is in the making. Maybe when I'm old and feeble, she'll come plant flowers for me. Of course, if she's here, who needs flowers?

But I digress ... 

Working in the yard left us hungry, so I spread a tablecloth on the ground and The Man rewarded us with chicken wraps from McDonald's. 

In between bites, there were meaningful conversations across the lawn.

And later, using the scarecrows left over from last year, we figured out just what to put where. 

Make no mistake. It was a joint effort. 

Sugar plum loved her tiny pumpkin so much that I let her take it home with her. 

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. ~  George Eliot

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Linking up with the following fabulous parties:

Stuff and Nonsense ~ Fridays Unfolded

Common Ground ~ Fabulous Fall Fun
Southern Hospitality ~ Kick Off Your Fall Outdoor Decor

Living in the Moment ~ Simple Pleasures

Morning hours are some of my favorite hours of the day. To pour that first cup of coffee, step out the back door, inhale the fresh air, feel the sun on my face, join Diesel on the glider (if he leaves me room), and talk to the Lord a bit … it all makes for a good day.

 

Yesterday, I felt the first stirring of fall in the air, and saw the evidence on the ground. It made my heart skip a beat.

Well, well. The good people at Southern Living magazine are offering me a “senior rate” of $10.00 on a 14-issue subscription. I guess old-age has a few benefits after all. What’s not to love?

 

In the kitchen, the blue plumbago cuttings are keeping the little coffee-cup clock company. They make a pretty pair.

 

With our temperatures cooler, the humidity lower, what better place to linger than the hammock?

 

The girl is no longer a misfit among the sisters. Giddy up!

 

 

 

And finally, in this ever changing world, there are still a few things I am sure of. I keep this on my wall as a reminder.

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I’m living in the moment, celebrating simple pleasures. Here’s wishing you a day of the same.


Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

Sunday's Sweetness

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t attend the same church as sugar plum (my grand-niece), even though we live just a few minutes from each other. So, occasionally, I ask her mother if she can go to church with me and The Man, because, let’s face it, there’s nothing more enchanting than a little girl dressed up (I love that we both attend churches where folks still put on their Sunday best).

Yesterday morning found me and sugar plum headed to church—alone. The Man wasn’t able to attend, so that meant I was on my own at getting a picture of me and sugar plum (a necessity, don’t you see).

This collage depicts perfectly what a dilemma that turned out to be.

The top row pics were taken in my bathroom, after curling sugar plum’s hair. I was attempting to take the picture by holding my camera in front of the mirror. As you can see, I totally missed the mark in the one on the left, and hit the mark in the other one, by accident, I might add. Sugar plum was a bit confused about where to look, so I just up and kissed her.

The bottom row finds sugar plum fast asleep on the rather long drive to church (28 miles to be exact). That face is pure sweetness. The other shot shows my determination to get a facing-forward, full-length photo of her, in that entirely adorable outfit. Pardon our less-than-graceful stance. I do confess we were squatted down on the bathroom floor at the church, in front of the full-length mirror.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

We sang together all the way home from church, and how I wish I could have figured out a way to record that heart-warming event, but, alas, my memory will have to do.

Until next time, here’s wishing all of my blogging peeps a week of melodious memories with someone you love.

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This post is part of the series, Mosaic Monday at Little Red House.

The Old Singer ~ A Favorite Thing

My mother has been an expert seamstress for as long as I can remember (you can read more about that here), and this Singer sewing machine helped her work her magic for many years. It is not a treadle machine; it is electric and zips along like nobody's business.

Growing up, seldom did a day go by without its hum being heard throughout the house. And come nightfall, after the supper dishes had been washed and put away, Mother could be found back at the Singer, busying herself with cotton prints and small buttons, with satin ribbons and yards of gossamer lace. Many evenings I surrendered to sleep under the spell of the Singer’s gentle whir.

Before it became my mother's sewing machine, the Singer belonged to her mother, who was also an expert seamstress. Some of my fondest memories (and outfits) revolve around this machine. My sisters and I were the best dressed girls on the block.

A number of years back, Mother called to say the Singer was not being used. (She had finally bought a new one!)  Would I like to keep it a spell? Yes, I told her, I absolutely would!

I’ll never forget the day it arrived. I felt downright weepy as I steadied it in front of the bedroom window. After decades of faithful family service, it seemed an old friend had come to stay. To this day, the Singer remains one of my favorite things.

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Once again, I'm joining Claudia for her fun blog party, "A Favorite Thing."

Ernest's High School Sweater ~ A Favorite Thing

My father-in-law, Ernest, passed away in 1985, at the young age of 58, from the dreaded disease of cancer. His death hit the family like a ton of bricks, so unexpected, so quickly the end came. Ernest's mighty presence will always be missed, but The Man and I are blessed to have a few treasures that belonged to him.

Every fall, this sweater comes out of the closet and is hung up in my foyer. It is Ernest's high school sweater, and even though it has a few holes in it, and the color has faded in places, I find great pleasure in the memories it must contain. That's why it is one of favorite things.

I've been joining in the fun party at Mockingbird Hill Cottage, where Claudia showcases our favorite things. Hop on over, if you have a few minutes.

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The Remains of the Garden

Even though it’s been hotter than a firecracker since April around here, each day finds me lingering a spell in my tiny garden. Some days, it’s precisely two minutes, as that’s all the heat-tolerance I can muster for the day.

But gardens require something out of us, in order to thrive, so I have no complaints going out and feeding my sweet plants, pruning as needed, making sure I’m doing all I know to do to keep them alive and well. Sometimes they don’t make it, even if we do all of the right things. However, if they do make it, they always give me back way more than I ever give to them.

Here’s a look at the things that have hung in there, still bringing me pleasure with their colors and sheer tenacity.

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I took a walk on the wild side last week and planted a couple new things. They were on a big sale (70% off), and I couldn’t resist.

This is called Pride of Barbados. The colors are just magnificent, aren't they?

I planted this beauty, called an esperanza plant, next to the garage, and plan to go pick up a couple more next week, Lord willing. They're a floppy sort of plant, and produce fabulous yellow bell blooms.

My plumbago is in constant bloom.
I have to keep it trimmed back or it takes over.

The lantana blooms in cycles, and is still going strong.

And look! I have four new buds on my rose bush! 

This is my first year to try roses, and I’ve been pleased, so far.

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Well, another week is in the history books. I don’t know how September snuck up on me, but we were two days in before I realized what had happened. When it dawned on me that we were no longer living in August, I looked at The Man and said, “Did you know it was September 2nd already? He gave me his familiar my-dear-wife-sometimes-you’re-simply-irresistible look.

It does seem that the last few years have flown by lickety-split. I can’t explain it, except to say that the older we get, the more we realize how short life truly is. I’m trying to squeeze every ounce of goodness out of it that I possibly can.

Until next time, dear friends, here’s wishing you cooler days and starry nights.

 Linking up with:

Fridays Unfolded (Stuff and Nonsense)

Show and Tell Friday (My Romantic Home)