Fall at the US National Arboretum

Washington is alive with color and much of it is at the United States National Arboretum.  Today I attended a class on winterizing bonsai and had an opportunity to go behind the scenes (on the other side of those doors marked "STAFF ONLY") at the National Bonsai and Penjing Museum and enjoyed a walk around the grounds.

bald cypress (bonsai collection)

bonsai collection

My lesson for the day:   take advantage of opportunities to learn and you will be richly rewarded.  Not only was the class interesting, but I got there in record time, had a fantastic parking place (no small feat on a busy Saturday) and the fall colors were amazing --from the tiniest bonsai to the japanese maples and the groves of maples, oaks, sycamore and more.  What a gift, what a day!

The Amazing Frog Adventure On An Already Special Day

I don’t get a lot of alone time with my brother, since we live in different parts of the country, so this was a special day.  Typically, we were late in getting started.  In the passenger seat of his F250, boat on trailer in tow, I sat waiting for him to fill the tank at the local Hess station so we could begin our boating adventure.  It was a beautiful November afternoon in northwest Florida, getting warmer as we waited, the Louisiana Catahoula and I.  Being the only occupant with an opposable thumb, or any thumbs at all, I opened the door to let in the lovely cool breeze.

Within seconds, something flew through the door, landing with a wet-sounding “kersplat” on the overflowing console.  It was a tiny tree frog, appearing from who knows where, presumably there for a short visit.  Before he could hop about and get lost in the contents of the truck’s cab, I scooped him into my palm and he immediately did what all creatures do when they are in fear.  I held tight and flicked his nervous contribution on the floor.

The frog rode in my clasped hands, head and sticky toes peeking through my finger gaps, looking for freedom.  He was determined to find a way out of the confinement and somehow squeezed and flattened himself between my locked thumbs, jumping with another splat back on the console.  This time I retrieved and held him closer, determined to get him to a nice place to call his new home.

Once at the dock by the lake, while my brother readied the boat for a launch, I released my little frog friend and the dog ran around getting more excited by the minute about the upcoming boat ride.  I let the frog loose on the far side of the two rows of cypress trees that flank the shore of the lake, statuesque and full of knobby knees.  He sat in the grass then hopped tentatively at first but  I was sure he would find his new home appealing.  He wore a little bit of fuzz from my fleece but I didn’t disturb him to try to remove it.

Happy Louisiana Catahula

blue heron in tall grass

cypress knees

water lilies

great blue heron

great white heron

I helped launch the boat; the dog boarded happily.  We had a wonderful adventure for the next several hours, roving through a chain of lakes and exploring the shorelines.  We saw a red-tailed hawk, several blue herons, great white herons, a flock of ibis, snowy egrets and my favorite, the sandhill cranes.  We also saw fish and turtles, flowering lilies, beautiful moss-draped cypress trees and waterways that seemed to go on forever.

sandhill crane

sandhill crane

sandhill cranes

The most exotic bird we saw was a purple gallinule, who was fearless and seemed to be protecting something in the reeds behind him.  He marched back and forth across the water plants, like a soldier guarding his fortress.  His iridescent purples and blues and candy corn beak were something to behold

purple gallinule

cypress trees at the shore 

Three hours later, after picking up my sweet fun-loving niece at another shoreline, we returned to the boat launch, but pulled to the shore adjacent to the dock, in front of the cypress trees and about 25 feet from where I released my frog friend.  As my niece stepped off the boat into the shallow water at the shore, she saw my little frog friend, still with his piece of lint from my fleece shirt, sitting in the sand just at the water’s edge, as if waiting for our return.  We couldn’t believe our timing and our good luck to have encountered him again.

turtle enjoying the sun

How is it that one little frog visited us twice, choosing his location and timing it carefully, making us smile and causing us to wonder how he found us?  First at the Hess station and then after hopping through that grove of cypress and positioning himself in the exact place where we returned some hours later.  

blue heron flying in front of a house

I’ve always had a thing with animals and especially frogs.  This is just one more example of the little miracles that occur when you stop to notice them.

We placed the frog on a cypress tree, still with his little piece of lint clinging to his side, hopeful that he would find others of his kind in the shade of the beautiful mossy trees, along the shore of the lake in Citrus County, Florida.  What a special day.

frog friend on cypress

A is for Anxiety: The Unemployed Alphabet

Skyline Drive, Virginia

I wrote this to help others understand the anxiety of their unemployed friends and loved ones whose days are focused on trying to rebuild a major part of their identity and figure out how to survive.  

A is for Anxiety: what started the day you became unemployed and never entirely goes away.

B is for Bitter:  what you don’t want to be but border on when you see someone doing a bad job and being paid well to do it.

C is for Comfort:  what your good friends provide in a way that energizes and motivates you to keep on trying.

D is for Drive and Determination:  the inner strength you muster to sign up for a volunteer project, do a short term paid assignment in hopes of landing a full time job, drop everything to return a networking call, get up every morning and make it your job to find a job, contact every person in your address book to ask for their help, be willing to perform work far below your skill level, look and act like you are successful regardless of how you feel on the inside, or stuff your pride in your suitcase and work for $10 an hour if it helps make a contact or provides cash for next week's groceries.

E is for Everything:  what gets to you sometimes when the situation is just too overwhelming to break into manageable pieces.

Blue Heron, Florida

F is for Fear:  what haunts you at night and sometimes paralyzes you during the day.

G is for Goodness: what you really try to find in every situation because it helps you hold it together.

H is for Hard:  what every new conversation is that starts with “so what do you Want to do?”

I is for Industriousness: your ability to creatively engage and develop new skills to earn enough to keep you afloat.

J is for Jumpy: the constant feeling that something might happen; the anticipation of the phone ringing with good news or that you will wake up and find out this was simply a nightmare.

K is for Kindnesses and Kick in the pants:  the thoughtful acts, large and small, that make you smile, help move your resume in front of the right person or simply give you a hand with a difficult task; and the honest feedback and shove (kick) only your dearest friends will give to make you reach out one more time and make a call that is a little out of your comfort zone.

Big Cat Rescue, Florida

L is for Lonely:  the empty realization that you have to adjust to far more solitary time than you have ever had before.

M is for Mindless: the activities that you find yourself undertaking when you can’t take the pressure at the end of a long day of telephone calls, email, resume distribution and cover letter-writing.

N is for Nag:  what you want to do when someone promises to help you and fails to follow through but instead you just feel disappointed.

O is for Old:  how you feel when you see who is getting hired.

P is for Patience: what you never had enough of and what all this waiting is supposedly helping to develop.

Q is for Quit:  what you want to do when things get really hard but you don’t do because you trust that it will get better.

R is for Resume:  the two pages you have edited more frequently than any you have ever written and that still fail to adequately reflect all that you are.

S is for Stymied:  how you feel when you can’t figure out how to make the right connection for a job you know should be yours.

T is for Talent:  what you know you have, your resume reflects and the right person hasn’t noticed yet.

U is for Understanding:  what your friends and family try to be but really can’t unless they have been there.

V is for Victorious: how you will feel when you get hired.

W is for Waiting:  what you spend a lot of time doing that is supposedly developing all that patience you need.

X is for eXercise:  the way to release tension and ensure you look your best – and the last thing you feel like doing when you are depressed and down on yourself.

Y is for  Yawn:  your reaction when one more person suggests a minor change in the resume that has been edited a thousand times already.

Z is for Zillions: the number of times you have focused on what you have to be thankful for rather than on what you aren’t.

Happy dog, winter walk, C&O Canal, Maryland

Lessons from a Friend

A few nights ago a friend and I were on our way to a meeting and erred in our directions,  turning around at a familiar street.  I reminded her that mutual dear friends lived in the neighborhood where we turned and we spent a few minutes talking about them, as it had been some months since either of us had seen them.  We continued to our meeting and I know I didn’t think about that turning “error” again until the next day.

She called the following morning to tell me that the night before, Dave, who lived on that street where we turned around, had passed away due to recently-discovered inoperable ravaging cancer.  

That terrible heart-stopping news caused me to drop everything for a little while, needing prayer and meditation and time to simply assimilate the information I had been given.  I called another friend who was equally devastated by the news and we shared tears and a few memories, wishing we lived closer so we could be together in our sorrow.

Later it seemed so amazing that just the night before we happened to turn around in his neighborhood, spoke fondly about him and his beautiful wife, and were so close to his home when he was passing.  My friend and I decided that, when surprise reminders of friends and loved ones occur,  it is a good practice to pause and complete the thought about them and say a prayer. 

We clearly were supposed to have had that reminder of Dave and his family.  Since then, he has filled my thoughts.

Here are a few lessons I learned, and in some cases re-learned, from a man whose name is synonymous with integrity.  I hope you have someone in your life who has given you similar opportunities for learning.

                                                                                 Lessons from a Friend

• Surround yourself with awesome people.
• Have faith that the Lord will guide you and that prayer is always part of the answer.
• Love your children and grandchildren with gusto.
• When you have been trusted with an assignment, consider it an honor and always do your very best.
• Without words, cause even strangers to recognize that your spouse is the love of your life.
• Generously give of your time as a mentor and teach others to do the same.     
• Leave indelible marks on the lives of others such that they are better people for having known you.

Have You Considered

Please note that the photographs have absolutely nothing to do with the wisdom herein provided - but they may help hold your attention.

Orr's Island, ME

One of my favorite sayings is "You don't have to tell ME three times."  This is because often it takes more than one hit for things to resonate -- but usually after the second blunder I figure it out.  

Burlington, VT

I have one dear friend who is gentle in how he approaches criticism but I know when he says something it's worth taking note. I recently learned a lesson in communication that didn't take hold the first time or the second,  but I get it now.

Echo Lake  - New Hampshire

His words of advice went something like this:  "Instead of presenting an idea with 'you should ___,' try saying 'have you considered  ___?'"  That made sense to me and I had never spent much time considering how my words came across to others.  Instead of my suggestion being a command, it is more likely to be adopted if it can become the other person's own.

Veggies at the organic market - Newburyport, MA

In my enthusiasm to shout out an idea, I tend to forget that, as with other situations in life, the right choice of words matters a lot.  The point is not to whom the credit goes, but that the message is delivered in such a way that action follows. 

Carousel tiger - The Shelburne Museum, VT

This week in an email to my friend,  I made a suggesting that began with "You should"  --   I blew it.  How thoughtless.  Making the mistake with the very person who tried to help me was doubly embarrassing.  

Newbury, MA

So you don't have to tell me three times, right?  Wrong.  


Later that same day, I caught myself too late and I killed an idea in a matter of seconds by telling my son he should do something.  My edict was a complete conversation-stopper.  No adult child wants to be told what to do.   Another good idea vaporized.

Marblehead, MA

 I think my blunders now number far more than three.  

Newburyport, MA

It's good to reflect and realize your mistakes and understand how easy it is to completely bungle a sales job.  I get it, really.  

Have you considered how you approach sharing your ideas with others?  

Good Old Mr. Pink

Pink Puppy in 2010

     My special friend and bedtime toy since 1955, Pink Puppy was named for his once lovely shade of terry cloth skin.  Given to me by Santa on my first Christmas, he became my confidant before I could speak in sentences.  Mother says he was surely chosen by my Dad, who was inclined toward extravagant purchases.

Pink and me with other unimportant presents, Christmas 1955

     In this photo of my first Christmas (obviously I was then an only child), the person who set up the shoot did not understand Pink's importance as he didn't make it to the top tier of my early-model exer-saucer.          

     Just recently Pink came down from the attic in a box of my boys’ special stuffed animals.  One son decided the collection could be culled but Pink was not a candidate. 

Pink and me with some of the lesser toys, 1955

     I had a rush of emotion when I saw Pink lying in the heap at the bottom of the box.  He made me smile and the sight of him brought back feelings of comfort and friendship, times of confiding and questioning and a lot of family memories. I rescued him from the box and put him safely on my bed, which is where he is now. 

With the spoils, 1958.  Pink is in the cradle.

     With Pink's help, my eating and dressing habits improved over the years and eventually I had to share the beaters filled with delicious seven-minute icing with my little brother and sister.  But for my third birthday, Pink and I had the spoils to ourselves.

     After my best buddy spent nearly 40 years in various storage boxes, it amazes me that I had such a strong reaction to seeing him again.  Memories fast forwarded from the depths of my brain and I recalled that for many years of my life he was my best friend and slept right beside me.

     His fragile body has sprung more than one leak and his stuffing erupted years ago. Mother patched him, eventually replacing his stuffing with wadded up old stockings.  That worked fine although I was mad and embarrassed for Pink when I found out - being stuffed with used nylons is not exactly a classy fix.  His outsides were still the same and I am sure I spent some time comforting him for a while after the operation.

Pink and me, trying to get a girl out of my chair.

     I like the way he looks so peaceful with his sewn-shut eyes, his head cocked and his floppy ears coming down around the side of his face.  With that natural bend in his body, he fit right inside my arms at bedtime.

     I used to put him up to my face and talk to him and then I would kiss him.  He is missing more of the terry part of his cloth body in that spot.  In fact, he’s rather thin-skinned around his face.  I am sure I gave him a lot of love.

     How is it that at age 55 I get great comfort from seeing him and feel close to this little pink dilapidated dog?   I feel a great deal of security knowing an old pal is still around.  I tested him the other night by having a big old cry.  Sure enough, he can still keep a secret.

     He'll probably go back in the box in a week or two, after I have enjoyed reuniting for a little while longer.