Final Post

Ninety plus one, that's how many posts I will have written by concluding with this one.  It seems like a strange number to end on, but today's photo will be the only one I haven't yet shown on my blog.  The purpose of this entire project was to share my photographs of a variety of sea glass and beach rocks with people who find joy in such things.  Along the way, I hope you have found something relatable, funny, encouraging, or helpful in the text of these posts.  Even if while reading them you said to yourself, "She's a little weird", I appreciate that!  Writing should evoke some kind of response, and I'll take what I can get.  To those of you who left comments, you kept me going when I thought I'd never make it to 91 posts.  You gave my blog purpose.  I was writing for you.  Thank you.  May you also find the help you need to reach your goals, and when that happens, keep going.  Make new goals.  Never stop.  There's so much to do on this big ball of earth, and not a whole lot of time to do it in, so enjoy it, and help others to do the same.

"Lake Michigan Hearts" represents the love I've had for sharing my thoughts and feelings with you.  Hopefully, I'll find some time to create more photos for more posts in the future.  As for now, may all the joy that God wants you to have, be yours.

Second Story Snow

From the second story of our one hundred eleven year-old house, the falling snow looks especially beautiful.  It's just as I imagined it would be.  For some reason, I was excited to see this year's first snowflakes from a different vantage point than usual.  Most times, it seems, the first snow occurs either overnight while I'm sleeping, or in the car driving home from somewhere.  Now and then, it happens right before my eyes as I'm looking out of a window from the kitchen or living room, but it's been decades since I've lived in a two story house, so I have no recollection of winter's first flurries being seen from upstairs.  Up here, the few remaining leaves, on their snow-soaked branches, add a second rhythm to the dance of wind blown snow.  Instead of being grounded with each flake's final destination, from this upstairs bedroom, I'm part of the journey.  No two snowflakes are the same, neither is their fall.  Swirling, blowing, dropping heavily or barely at all, the silent song of snow from my new view fills me with peace.  Downstairs from my front door, rather than appreciating the beauty, annoyance creeps into my thoughts.  I do not like driving on snow-covered roads.  The constant need to shovel the driveway and sidewalks also makes the white stuff less appealing.  For the next four months, getting ready to leave the house will be a routine of drudgery; does anyone enjoy having to don the boots, coat, scarf, and gloves?  Maybe, but I don't.  So, before the negative side of the "s" word overtakes the blessings of living in a state where we can experience the beauty of freshly fallen snow, I'm going back to my upstairs window to remember how this post started. 

There's no match up for this photo with my post today.  It's called, "Sea Glass Fish", and it's the second-to-last one I have.  Tomorrow will be my last picture and post until I can start photographing again.

Stuffing Stuff

Up the stairs, down the stairs.  Up the stairs, down the stairs.  Up to my "office", down to the toaster.  Not being the best manager of time and multitasking, I've paired making homemade stuffing with writing today's post.  Yes, I'm aware of the availability of bread cubes in bags, ready to dump into a pan, but I've always thought my mom's recipe, with stale toast torn into pieces, tasted so much better.  Sure, it takes a long time to toast enough bread for 10 guests-worth of dressing, especially with a two-piece toaster, but I'm making it a day ahead.  As I looked online to see if my end product would be just as good made early, as it would if made the same day, I noticed something.  My mom's recipe is different from everything else I saw.  I know it was her mother's recipe, and it makes me curious as to the origin of it all.  Instead of using broth, Mom's recipe calls for milk.  So there's no broth, and also, no eggs.  It's just butter, onion, celery, sage, salt, pepper, torn toast, and milk.  I've been making it for years and didn't even know it was unique.  At this stage in my life, that matters to me.  It's comforting to think how, with a passed down recipe, my family's families will be enjoying the same flavors upon their taste buds as our ancestors did.

Named, "September Jewels", I chose this photo because, to me, an old family recipe is, indeed, a jewel.

Phoenix Street Cafe---More Than Meets the Eye

If you've ever traveled to South Haven, Michigan, I hope you had the chance to dine at Phoenix Street Cafe.  If you haven't, I hope you will.  You may be thinking I'm offering free advertising because of the delicious food and friendly service, but you're wrong.  While those are true critiques, my motive for writing about this lovely restaurant rests in my knowledge of its owners, the Marcoux family.  You see, beginning in November, and throughout the winter, these special people provide dinner, with dessert, for the less fortunate citizens of our town, every Thursday night.  They actually go through all the steps of preparing the food, packing it up, and taking it to the First Congregational Church, for free.  It's called the "Phoenix Street Supper".  Various community members do the greeting, serving, and clean-up, and are also allowed to partake in the evening's fare, because the amount of food donated is so generous.  There is a lot of food, and the menu is never the same.  Tonight we served baked chicken, mashed garlic potatoes, green beans, salad, dinner rolls, and brownies.  The church provides the beverages and decorated tables, so kudos to those fine people, as well.

The townspeople of South Haven are blessed to have the Marcoux family.  They set the bar pretty high for other business owners here, and I can honestly say that there are some who follow suit.  Isn't it nice to see mankind in such a light?  May they be blessed.

The title of this photo is, "Mixed Sea Glass".   Pairing a picture to my post is getting more and more difficult, as I am down to just four compositions left that I haven't used, so this one is a bit of a stretch.  I chose it because we served mixed greens in the salad tonight.  (Oh, brother.)

Unlearning to Drive

Picture your life without driving.  To complete this image, bear in mind that I didn't say to picture your life without a car, or without the ability to drive, you still know how.  Visualize your car in your garage, and your driver's license in your purse or wallet, but here's the clincher; your keys have been hidden from you.  First, they were taken away, and then they were hidden.  Even though you've never had a speeding ticket or an accident with your car, you've been told you are no longer allowed to drive.  What hurts even more is that the person saying this to you isn't an enemy or a stranger; it's your spouse or grown children.  If you can imagine how you would feel to be the victim of such a scenario, with the betrayal fresh in your mind, turn it around and consider how it would affect you to be the one causing the hurt.  If you could hear me now, my heavy sigh would give away which role I play.  It's not always easy doing what's best for the ones you love, and if they can no longer remember how to get home from one block away, be ready to cause some grief.  My loved one is grieving for her loss of driving rights.  It's like losing a dear old friend.  Being a part of this makes me sad.

This photo is called, "Glass Mountain".  I've read that faith the size of a mustard seed can move a mountain, so I'll just keep praying.

Pandora

When I saw an ad for Pandora, I didn't want anything to do with it.  After all, Pandora's Box is an ancient Greek myth that scared me as a kid; why would I pursue it now?  That just shows how out of touch I was with what's available in free apps.  Now, here I sit with an early Christmas present from my hubby, a Samsung Galaxy Tablet, and I am lovin' it!  If you're reading this, you probably already have Pandora on your iPad or Android.  I'm wishing I would have used it much sooner; it's awesome!  Songs I thought I'd never get to hear again are at the touch of a finger.  It's like building and running my own radio station, except I don't have to please an audience---just myself!  At this very moment, I'm listening to "soothing sounds radio".  With the occasional cry of a loon, combined with classical piano music and violins, the word "verklempt" comes to mind.  When I'm not writing, and I feel like singing, I go to love songs, 60's, 70's, and 80's hits, praise and worship, or Christmas radio songs.  I can add more to that list anytime I want, and then hit "shuffle" for a mixture of them all.  If an app had any physical weight to it, I'd say this one is worth it's weight in gold, but it weighs nothing, and it costs nothing.  Pandora Internet Radio.  Priceless pleasure.

This one is called, "Spring Dance".  I've got just the thing for that!

Halloween Dilemma

Did I say 600 trick-or-treaters?  That was yesterday's forecast, before the downpour of candy collectors came to our door.  We were prepared for exactly that number, as it was on the high side of what we had been told to expect.  As it turned out, we ran out of treats after only one hour and twenty minutes, meaning we had forty minutes left before the goblins would end their mission.  My husband and I had no choice but to do the unthinkable: turn off the lights and hide. We felt a little guilty watching from the dark corners of our three-seasons porch, but it was kind of fun, and what else could we do?  The sidewalk crossing our driveway was so crowded, that for safety's sake, we didn't dare hop in the car for a quick trip to Walgreen's.  Even with the air becoming misty, there was a constant parade of costumes until 7:30.  I'm not sure that another bag of 300 would have been enough candy to satisfy the droves of people passing by.  I've never seen anything like it, not even in the summer traffic heading to the beach.  Surely, we weren't the only ones who underestimated the popularity of our street on Halloween night.  Perhaps the lesson here is, even though I didn't see a single trick-or-treater dressed as a bird, they may all want to remember that old saying, "The early bird catches the worm".  Still, judging by what I saw in the bags, I think they did okay.

Long ago, when I took this picture, I called it "Seven".  It relates to my post today, because I'm thinking that it might be a good idea to end the official "Trick-or-treating" time at 7:00 instead of 7:30!