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This is the first blog post I wrote and it appeared on:

http://www.amyharkemoore.com 

I tweaked a line or two and added a few new pictures. I hope you enjoy it.

Their chirps are alerting me that I’d better get moving. Rising early has never been an issue for me because it’s the best time of the day. Who on earth would want to miss the sunrise, cool crisp air, and sparkling dewy grass?

A quick peek in the mirror assures me that I have bedhead trauma. I carelessly run fingers through my hair. As the pre-programmed coffee perks, I pull on jogging pants and adjust them underneath my calf-length cotton nightgown. My nose follows the scent to the kitchen for my wake-up brew. A pinch of sugar substitute and half-n-half, and then I savor my first sip.

I rummage through the fridge for grape jam, boil a cup of water with sugar for the hummingbirds, and set it aside to cool. I slip my arms into a fleece then grab a mixing spoon and jar of jam. Placing my back against the screen door, I push my way outside.

I drop a gob of jam unto an orange plate and rinse the cement birdbath clean before filling it with fresh water. Within seconds, a handsome male oriole is dipping into the jam, unthreatened by my presence.

Someone down south took good care of him or he’d be leery of me.

With arthritic hands, I struggle to pull the top of the black oil sunflower country seed mix and carry a full pail to the feeding station under the leaning pine tree. I hurry back inside for the cooled hummingbird mix and fill the bright red feeder.

I stop, breathe in deeply, raise my hands to heaven, assess my work, and then return to the house to freshen my coffee.

I reach for my devotional before shuffling out again to the wooden swing set. Needs a good power washing, I think before sitting down. I wiggle and twist until I find a comfortable resting position and pause before reading. Gazing above at the shards of light bursting through the maple tree branches, I watch my feathered friends flitter about, swoop down for their breakfast, and harmonize thank you.

UPDATE!

In a previous post, I wrote about planting blackberry lily seeds. I used the seeds from a plant given to me. I had high hopes of transplanting the seedlings into larger pots and sharing them as Mother’s Day gifts.

I planted a seventy-two section starter kit and placed it inside my house close to a sunny window. I waited and waited. Nothing grew. After four weeks, I decided to toss the seeds along a border to my home. If nothing else, the seeds might take root, and I’d have a pretty backdrop.

I set the kit outside in the sunshine. A few days later, I saw sprouts peeking above the dirt. It was a miracle! The seeds needed the right environment to grow. I’ve counted twenty-eight plants.

I will give the blackberry lilies as gifts–just later than expected.

The moral of the story:  DON’T GIVE UP!

 

 

 

I wrote this post last year for Mother’s Day. Hope you enjoy it.

Ma passed away several years ago at the age of eighty-seven. I never called her mom, mother, mommy–just plain old Ma.

She lived her life with a glass half-full, didn’t complain about not having the luxuries of others, and worked until she was seventy-one. She could plant a seedling and it would shoot to the sky like the Jolly Green Giant. Her instincts for colors and decorating would have put her at the top of an interior design class.

She never had to throw out a meal (like me) because she turned everything into a chef’s delight. Nothing went to waste–ever. Her cakes and desserts were moist to the taste, and a pot of Maxwell House Coffee sat hot waiting for the next visitor.

Ma taught us children about loving God, sharing, putting the needs of others first, and how to penny pinch. Being frugal was a lifestyle, wastefulness a no-no, and living by principles the only way to survive.

She called most every night before her bedtime to make sure the family was safe. This went on until she passed away.

Ma would stop by with flower shoots, decorating tips, and usually something we needed.

One year, she gave me some buttercup flowers to plant. For those who don’t know, they spread like wildfires. But I dare anyone to remove a buttercup from my yard.

This Mother’s Day I look upward to thank Ma for instilling the right stuff into our lives. And, maybe, we can view the world through her eyes.

Ma’s Buttercups

Happy Mother’s Day!

With Mother’s Day just around the corner, I pulled out a few simple card crafts. They’re easy and inexpensive to create. You may have a lot of the craft items in your home.

A few years back, I printed the watering can cutouts from the web.

The felt flowers and butterflies below were Easter garland. I purchased it on sale and cut off the string. I painted the black dots and adhered magnets to the back. These will be included in Mother’s Day cards.

These cards were made from egg cartons and baking cups. Easy for the little ones.

The spoon card was created by the children’s director at my church.

Maybe you have elderly neighbors, church members, or a nursing facility close by. Cards for lonely seniors are always welcomed.

Pull out the construction paper, card stock, ribbon, markers and crayons and let the kids go to town.

Happy Mother’s Day!