Category Archives: Summer

An Emotionally Uplifting Summer

It’s been a fun month, even if it has been busy. I’ve been working hard on a new fantasy story and it seems like there’s been family event after family event. We have two spare beds in our house and I’ve been washing sheets like there’s no tomorrow! But it’s all been fun.

We held a family reunion at my brother’s house to celebrate what would have been Mom’s 93rd birthday. It was a lot of fun and visiting and catching up.

Hubby and I showing my aunt how the “photo booth” worked. 🙂

And we released balloons in Mom’s favorite color (purple) in her honor. We’ve always said that when Mom passed, she was finally with the love of her life, our beloved step-father, who passed away in the early 90’s. Well, two of the balloons released knocked up against each other and their strings entwined. They stayed that way all the way up until they were out of sight. It made us smile as we thought of them as Mom and John holding hands. 🙂 Have you ever had a moment like that? Where something random happens and it fills you with such a feeling of love? It’s an amazing blessing to be able to have that happen.

Also on the fun front, we went to see Neil Diamond in concert. Again. Must be about my fifth time. Two years ago, my daughter took me for a “banner” birthday. I blogged about that here. This time, we got my husband to come, along with another daughter and her husband.

You know…that man is 76 years old now and still doing concerts. Every other day during his tour. At 76! Wow. I hope I’m that active when I’m his age! I have to admit, he was moving a little slower. But that voice of his is as amazing as ever, along with his ability to fill a crowd with joy. He made us all feel special. He is a very special man with an amazing talent and I’m so glad I’ve gotten to see him so many times.

Now we’re in a heat wave here in the Pacific Northwest. A week or so of highs in the 90’s (32’s in Celsius numbers).  That’s really warm for us in the summer. We rarely get 100 degree days, or even approach them. So this is going to be a hot, hot week. We are lucky enough to have air conditioning. It doesn’t make it easier to sleep at night, but the days are much more comfortable, and we’re very grateful for that.

I hope you are all having a fun, fun summer. And staying cool in the heat, or embracing the sunshine. Whatever you love to do, this is the time to do it.

Summer rocks!

For more information about Laurie Ryan:
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Everything in Threes

Why does everything seem to come in threes? Is it magic number? We have the Three Stooges; plants should be grouped in threes; the Holy Trinity; the three wise men, traffic lights – red, amber, green; clothes, especially for babies: one on, one off and one in the wash; pre-packed meat in supermarkets, chops always seem to be in threes, not one or two or even four; three primary colours: red, blue and yellow; the three little pigs; three blind mice; no buses for an hour then three come along at once; three teaspoonsful equal one tablespoon… I could go on but it does seem odd (excuse the pun) that life and nature frequently have this triplet number. I’ve often wondered why or if there is any significance. Are these things simply a pattern? A lucky number, perhaps? No, I don’t think so for trouble always seems to come in threes too? At least it does in my house. I’ll elaborate…

Dave’s been retired now a month. It’s been brilliant. We’ve had a lot of fun, more laughs than I can remember us having and he and I have enjoyed every moment of this new phase in our long marriage. Except this month has also brought unwelcome and unexpected expense. Picture the scene: a beautiful Sunday, guests joining us for lunch, a roast merrily cooking its way, then bang! All the power in the house goes down. Trip switch flicked on again and again. Bang! Yes, you’ve guessed it, the cooker decided to burn out one of the heating elements in the oven. Oven turned off, meal resumed in the jet stream and microwave. Engineer summoned Monday morning. New element ordered, fitted on Wednesday.

Thursday, pouring with rain. Never mind, have washing to do. Thank goodness for tumble drier as we don’t have room for a washing line in the garden. Load machine with sheets. Drum turns a few times as it fills with cold water. Then bang! Trip switch shuts power off. Dave blames pump in koi pond and goes off to sort. I turn washing machine back on. Off power goes again. Kicks machine. Okay, it’s nearly 14 years old, never broken down so I can’t complain. Suspect pump has given up. Removes wet, soaking bedding from drum. Scratches head. What to do with dripping washing. Engineer summoned again in hope he can fix it. Yes he can. Heater element blown. New one ordered and fitted following Monday morning.

Now have larger washing mountain to climb. First load in: several large towels. Washing machine works a treat and an hour later they are dying in tumble drier. Well… I thought they were. All lights flashing on machine, washing still damp after two hours. Drier defunct. Research problem on internet: Common fault. Terminal. Still pouring with rain so can’t even rig up temporary line. New tumbler on order for next day delivery.

So, that is our three bad things done. Hopefully. Please no more. Dave reckons the dishwasher will be next as it’s over 10 years old. I’ve told him if it does break down, he will be doing all the washing up for wishing it upon us.

It’s still raining, and blowing a gale, but at least the garden is thriving, even if we can’t get out there and enjoy it today.

Kit’s Website and Blog  and Kit’s Art  Site

George & Louise…A Great Love by Valerie J. Patterson

George and Louise Boldt–their story is one of a great and deeply felt love.  It’s also a tale of tragedy and a future with a broken heart.  George was a poor immigrant in the late 1800s who managed to gain employment at the famous Waldorf Astoria, and later would own it and another hotel here in Pennsylvania.  It was while he was working at the Waldorf that he met Louise Kehrer and fell madly in love with her.  While vacationing in Alexandria Bay, more particularly, the Thousand Islands, he bought Hart Island, which he legally changed to Heart Island.  In 1900, he commenced building a castle there for his lovely Louise to live in.  In 1904, tragedy struck and Louise Boldt died suddenly at the young age of 41.  That same day, George sent a telegram to the island and ordered all construction to cease and all workers to leave the island.  The heartbroken George never stepped foot on Heart Island again.  He never allowed his children or their families to visit the island either.  Boldt Castle was 96% finished the day Louise died, and it would remain unfinished, too.  So great was his love for his wife, and just as great was his pain from losing her, that he could not bear to live there without her.

In 1977, the heirs of George Boldt sold the castle and Heart Island to the state of New York for $1.00 with the following conditions:  1) The castle was to be open to the public and every cent from the sale of tickets was to be put into restoring the castle, which had been vandalized over the decades it remained empty; 2) the restoration was never to go beyond 96% completion, which was the last Louise had ever seen; and 3) no one was ever allowed to live there or stay there.  To date, $38 million have been used in restoring the castle and only one and a half of the 6 floors have been fully restored.

Beginning at the top left corner and continuing clockwise, the photographs are: A view of 75% of Heart Island as seen from our hotel suite’s balcony; the Italian Garden at the rear of the castle with the castle’s power house (also a castle-like structure) in the background; the view of the castle’s main arch entrance where George imagined his guests docking their boats and visiting he and Louise at the castle–to the right is a 6 story playhouse he had designed and constructed for his children and their guests; a rear view of the castle; and, again, the arched entrance to the island.

Steve took me to the Thousand Islands for our anniversary trip, and I was instantly overtaken with the immense love George Boldt had for his wife.  I snapped over 500 photographs, and I apologize that I don’t have a closeup of the front of the castle for you, but those are on another camera card that I have not yet downloaded.

The entire time we were exploring the castle and its grounds on a self-guided tour, Steve and I discussed George and Louise.  All around us were visual signs of their love from heart-shaped flower beds to hand-carved granite benches with huge hearts carved out of the center of each bench’s backrest to the portraits of Louise to the Italian Garden with its carved granite statues.  We wondered what George would think of all the people tramping around the grounds and invading the castle.  We wondered how he would have looked upon the vandalism each room on each floor suffered from careless youths who didn’t know the story behind the castle or perhaps knew it and didn’t care.

As we sat on a magnificent porch, on a heart-shaped bench, I became weepy thinking about George and his immense love of Louise.  With all that Steve has been through this year, perhaps George’s story hit a little too close to home.  Or perhaps I’m just too softhearted and enjoy a good love story.  Maybe a little of both.  One thing I know for certain, George and Louise Boldt are now a part of my own history, and their love story reminds me to be thankful for my own love story!

Finally–so as not to leave on such a sad note–It has been my dream to own an island.  Strange dream, I know.  But ever since I learned that Raymond Burr owned his own island, I’ve wanted to own one myself.  During our stay in Alexandria Bay, we came to learn that there were 3 islands for sale.  The first one we saw had a price of $1.4 million.  The second one we saw had the hefty price tag of $5.5 million.  And the third one was selling for $80,000.  I’ll leave you with the photo of the third island, which is still swimming around in my thoughts as a possibility!

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It’s not the size of the house that matters, but rather the island itself that remains important to me.  <grin>

Until next time, may you be as loved as Louise!!  ❤

Boldt Castle

Summer Ups and Downs

July was a good month here. We got to spend time with grandkids, like this zoo day…IMG_20160630_110546538

And celebrated another granddaughter’s 7th birthday…KT

I also released my first women’s fiction novel…Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]

And we’ve had the house and shop pressure-washed in advance of painting. Can you tell we had trouble picking a color?

This blog is word-poor, but picture-rich, as August started out badly for us and I’m kind of at a loss for words, to be honest. We’ve had another upset here with Mom falling yesterday. It didn’t seem like a bad fall, but it turns out she now has a compression fracture in her spine. That translates to a lot of pain. So we’re working very hard to keep her as relaxed as possible. And keeping a close eye on her because she’s not to be up by herself since the pain medications make her tired and a little loopy. Sigh. IMG_20160729_184314

It’s a real process, aging. I hope I’m as gracious as my mother when I start having more troubles. For now, we’ll be joined at the hip, at least until she’s clearer-headed. 🙂

And finally, just to end things on a happier note, here’s the Dude, laid out on the summer deck behind me as we’re having dinner. This cat LOVES summer!IMG_20160725_191533581

 

Have an awesome August, everyone. The last splash of summer, coming up!

Give Me A Hammer! by Valerie J. Patterson

I need a really big hammer–but not so big that I can’t lift it!  Must have a smooth, flat surface and be easy to swing with near-perfect accuracy.  I’m thinking I need Thor’s hammer!  Or perhaps Thor and his hammer!

You may be wondering why I would need such a hammer.  Have you ever heard of the video game Whack A Mole?  That’s why I need such a hammer.

You see, there seems to be a family of moles residing in my beautiful backyard.  I mean, it has to be an entire family, right?  Everywhere you walk there are holes evidencing their intricate subsurface tunnel system.  Everywhere you walk there is loose earth that gives way beneath your feet so that you sink into the lawn.

They’ve taken to tunneling beneath my beautiful stone patio and are leaving mounds of earth behind causing the stones to rock and shift.  They’re tunneling–apparently they’re very hungry while digging tunnels–and they’re eating healthy plants along the way because two of my Azalea bushes have bit the dust.  Among the other plant casualties is one of my thickest grape vines that they’ve managed to eat through and kill.  This does not make me happy.  I used to have a lovely apricot Azalea tree, too.  There are only a few remaining live branches left because they’ve eaten through the roots.

So, I need a very large hammer so that when they venture to stick their vile little heads above the surface of my once beautiful lawn I can whack them on the head!  It might sound a little drastic, but I’m frustrated and nothing else has worked!  Besides, unless you have better solutions to suggest, I can get a good workout whacking them on the head!

Until next time, I hope the only pests in your outdoor space are butterflies whose fluttering wings add grace and beauty to your world!

PS…no moles were harmed during the writing of this blog!

Warning: Contains Scenes That May Upset Some Readers!

RhodesThe beginning of September saw us off my travels again, this time to Ixia on the Greek island of Rhodes, set in the glorious azure waters of the Aegean. Booked at short notice by my niece, Cheryl, we always enjoy our holidays with her. She’s a lot of fun and laughs are a plenty, thus we were delighted she wanted her two favourite aunts, Bunny, and her mother with her for what was to be a week of relaxation, especially for Cheryl who’d just finished university with a 1:1 degree in nursing and soon to start as a registered nurse at the famous Oxford Radcliffe Hospital, a very prestigious and well-respected unit in England.

Our all-inclusive hotel was close to the beach; my sister Ursula, Bunny, and I shared a room with a glorious sea view, whilst my other sister Lydia and Cheryl shared a room overlooking the mountains affording views of the glorious sunset each evening. It was a small hotel, rather shabby but immaculately clean and good, home-cooked food with plenty of Greek salads. Drinks were included but the beer and spirits were local brands which weren’t to our taste; a good job we all enjoy ouzo, which we drank plenty of. Yammas!

The weather was hot, hot, hot; even hotter than we had experienced in southern Spain back in July. Even the locals were saying they hadn’t experienced such heat in September; this was the sort of temperatures they are used to in June and July. We were only a ten minute’ bus ride from the main town of Rhodes, and had planned to visit the town on our last day as we had to vacate our rooms by midday and our flight home not until 21:30, but it was far too hot, certainly for me, to spend the day walking around a busy town. We had thought to do an evening visit but agreed we wouldn’t see the place to its full advantage at night; a good excuse to go back to the island, perhaps much earlier in the season. So, our week was spent either lazing around the hotel pool enjoying the facilities and entertainment or, as we prefer, on the beach, a short walk from the hotel, where the sea breeze helped to keep us just a little cooler.

Because Bunny’s not a good swimmer and averse to being buried in the sand, nor didn’t want to lose his little brass bell on its red ribbon he liked to wear around his neck, or his head, hippy style, I left him back in the hotel in the cool. This was a bad move and one I truly regret. For I have to tell you – and this is the sad part – Bunny went missing.

We came back to our room and he wasn’t where I’d left him – on the bed, sleeping off a heavy night on the vino. We searched high and low, moved furniture, looked everywhere. The sheets on the bed had been changed that morning, as they were every day, the top sheet folded into a fan shape, along with our pjs, but no sign of Bunny. My heart plummetted. Where was he?

Reporting his disappearance at reception, the receptionist’s eyes lit up in recognition and she opened a cupboard by the desk, retrieving… a child’s teddy bear. Not Bunny. She explained the sheets were sent out to a laundry who always return anything found, as it often happened. All week I queried his safe return, each time in hope, and each day she sadly shook her head. The answer was obvious: poor Bunny had been boiled! And no doubt the staff at the laundry spent the day wondering where the sound of the tinkling bell came from.

We’ve had lots of fun with him at home and on holidays, he’s always been with us no matter where we’ve gone – up mountains, on boats, coaches, played in the sand, enjoyed lilos and … and, I’m welling up now just thinking of him. And I have to admit, as our plane took off to come home, I cried, knowing I had left him behind to his fate. It wasn’t a case of bye-bye Rhodes, it was more bye-bye Bunny, I love you. We all miss you.

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I’m Late! I’m Late for a Very Important Date! by Valerie J. Patterson

Good Saturday morning to you!  As you can tell by the title, I’m late…with this blog article!  Thursday evening as I began to head here to type in my article, the Internet went out and stayed out until sometime Friday afternoon.  Friday evening–after a stressful week–I couldn’t muster the energy to type in my article.  Very sorry if you came and saw NOTHING from me!

The article I was going to post will wait for another day.  Instead, I’ve been inspired by my laziness to offer up something thought-provoking and perhaps memory-recalling!

Last month, Steve and I took our annual wedding anniversary trip, which was quite lovely, very relaxing, and extremely revitalizing!  As is our normal habit, we take one route to our destination and another route back home.  It was on the route back home that brought the only sad note to the entire trip.

While I was growing up, my family practically spent the entire summer camping/living in a very rustic, deep in the heart of nature resort in Deep Creek, Maryland.  Those summers were some of the best times of my youth.  Every trip, we stopped at a restaurant called the Lone Star.   We were such regulars, the waitresses would recite our beverages as we were seated at a table!  This place had the best fried chicken!

There was nothing special about the place.  It was a large diner along the highway, but the food was good, affordable, and the place was clean, the waitresses friendly, and it was a staple in our summer lives.

It’s been years since I last ate there.  In fact, I don’t think I could tell you when it was that I was last a patron there, but in my mind, it remained the same: same waitresses, same food, same decor.  That is until Steve and I happened to pass it on our way home from vacation.  We passed it and my eyes flew to the giant FOR SALE sign in the parking lot.

I made Steve turn around and go back.  I snapped a few pictures, sighed some heavy sighs, and shed a tear or two.  It sounds silly, I know, but my life has changed so much since the death of my dad that I simply wasn’t prepared to see one more casualty of my childhood.

Life is meant to be ever changing as opposed to stagnant.  It’s meant to be a journey of new places, people, and memories created.  You’re intended to go through it as an ever changing being as well.  However, as we age and lose people in our lives it sometimes becomes difficult to let go of “things” that remind us of simpler times or loved ones.

As I said, it’s not like I frequented the Lone Star, but the loss of it means I can never go back!  Perhaps this is also a good thing.  Everything changes with time.  Perhaps being able to go back…and actually going back…would have been harder.  New waitresses.  New menu items.  New cook.  New tastes.

There’s a saying that you can’t go back home again.  I think this is true.  I think it’s a bittersweet “good” thing that you can’t go back.  Not being able to go back keeps our memories pristine and unchanged by time.  While it is hard to let go of the past–be it people, places, or objects–let go we must.

Until next time, as the weather turns cooler, may you have many memories to wrap around you and leave you with a warmth that touches your heart!