Where Have All The Daisies Gone?

“I’ll give you a daisy a day Dear; I’ll give you a daisy a day. I’ll love you until the rivers run still and the four winds we know blow away.”

Daisies are my favorite flower – always have been. My love and appreciation for the daisy goes back to when I was in 7th grade. Nothing in particular happened then, it’s just that’s when I started liking daisies. I don’t know why I remember this, I just do. And it’s not that I liked a different type of flower prior to that. It’s just that prior to that – you know, prior to when you’re 12 or 13 – you don’t know much of anything. You aren’t really aware of the universe and that you actually have a place in it. (Yes, you do!) You kind of run on blind faith – doing what you’re told to do by your parents and doing what you know you’re supposed to do. You’re kind of in a state of oblivion or ignorant bliss. Then suddenly, you wake one day and you are a person (and you like daisies). Things just sort of click and you become more aware of things. But this post is not about that, so ---

Daisies are such a happy, cheery type of flower. Just seeing one puts a smile on my face. So simple and pretty. The daisy needs no flowery complicated accessories. Its petals are not intricately woven hiding secrets within. With the daisy – what you see is what you get. Sweet innocence. Understated beauty. Kind of like “the girl next door.” Fresh faced and no makeup needed. No pretense. Or, like the black cocktail dress. Simple elegance. Quiet distinction. But unlike the black cocktail dress or the girl next door, the daisy doesn’t always get noticed. It doesn’t get its due of praise, I think. That’s ok. I like you anyway little daisy. You are my favorite. I do believe though that daisies are positively associated with sunshine, happiness, peace and love. Remember the picture of the soldier with a daisy sticking out of the barrel of his gun? (Do you actually remember the 60's?)

So, I was 12 in 1969. (Being only 12 then, yeah I remember the 60's. Just a bit too young for all the crazy stuff!) My favorite “star” was Doris Day. (If my sibs are reading this, they are rolling their eyes, saying, “oh yeah, we remember your Doris Day phase.”) My father used to refer to her as “Dodo” (Doe Doe?) and said that this was a nickname for a person named Doris. He swore by it. I always believed him but somehow, secretly, I knew he was just kidding with me. As it turns out, daisies were (are) Doris Day’s favorite flower too! How cool is that when you’re 12 and your favorite star likes the same flower you do! Although we didn’t need it, the daisy and I had some validation. And Doris Day is still my favorite star – no apologies from me about that. Now fast forward some 30+ years to the movie “You’ve Got Mail” and if you have seen it a bazillion times you will have noted that daisies are the Meg Ryan character’s favorite too. If you have only seen it once (or, heaven forbid, not at all) then I highly recommend seeing it again. Not just for the daisy scene but simply because it is a feel good movie - one of my favorites. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan have a stunning screen presence and chemistry. And, he brings her daisies!

When we were married, on the day of our wedding, my soon-to-be husband surprised me with 12 dozen daisies. One hundred forty-four daisies! This was way above and beyond sweet! We had bunches of daisies throughout our apartment. It was wonderful and the aroma was heavenly. My husband has also been known to mow around wild daisies in our field and then pick them for me. Sweet!!

And now I ask you, where have all the daisies gone? I cannot find any daisies anywhere. Of course the only florist I go to is at the local Stop & Shop. While there recently, I asked that very question. “So, where are all the daisies?” “Oh, we don’t carry them anymore,” was the reply. “What?!!!” says me. “They just aren’t very popular,” my friendly Stop & Shop florist told me. “You’d have to go to an actual florist. They probably carry them.” Well, I don’t know if I ever would buy flowers for myself anyway. I guess now I’ll never know. I wouldn’t make a special trip to a florist to pick up flowers for myself – for sure. I just thought that, well, while I was at Stop & Shop anyway – you know, buying food and stuff – and the florist is right there near the deli, that maybe I could buy some daisies to grace our kitchen table. Would I actually have bought them for myself? Well, as mentioned, now I’ll never know. They don’t carry them!

My younger son, who is 19 and lives at home, and his girl attended the wedding of a friend recently. They were chosen - or elected or otherwise somehow picked – to take home the lovely centerpiece from their table. Well, I couldn’t believe my eyes when in they walked with these stunning daisies in a clear glass vase and proceeded to set them on the kitchen table. Now, of course, I know these daisies are not for me, yet there they sat on our table. Lovely! I commented on how pretty they were and how nice that they got to take them home. I contained myself and did not let on about how thrilled I was to see daisies and that they were my favorite! They were not mine, but still I got to enjoy them, until they went home. Ahh!

Well, maybe I’ll buy daisies to grace our kitchen table. They will brighten everybody’s day and will not be just for my benefit. They can’t cost all that much I wouldn’t think. They are more like the Keds or Converse of flowers, I would think, unlike the very pricey Nike Air Jordans, like roses are! (Remember PF Flyers, the sneaker that promised to make you “jump higher and run further” – or was it faster? True to their word, I could out run every boy in our neighborhood. Now, there was a sneaker!)

I will always love daisies. And although I don’t see them very often, not even at various functions where other flowers gather, it’s nice to know that they can be found, apparently, at my local florist. Under appreciated, though – the daisy. If ever you come to my house and you want to bring something but you don’t know what to bring (no, you don’t need to bring anything, really – I’m just saying--) I hope after reading this, something will come to mind!

Thanking you in advance,
~ sheri

EDITOR'S NOTE: (Yeah, that's me - editor) Well, the daisies never were taken home by my son's girl -- they stayed on our kitchen table and lasted 2 weeks! I changed the water daily and said "good morning daisies" every morning. Doing this made me smile. (So - I talk to daisies - so what!)

Beware - The Turtle

"For, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land".~ Old Testament, The Song of Solomon ii. 11, 12.

I had the distinct pleasure recently of observing snapping turtles within their natural habitat on 2 separate occasions. Good stuff!

I’m in my kayak, of course, in one of the coves that I like to go to which is tucked in just around the first island. (When we were kids we used to refer to this island as Crocker Island – so, from here on in it is so called!) You can go around the island clockwise then into the cove or you can go between the island and the main land (where Crocker’s house was, I guess) and you come out right into the cove. The water is still and as smooth as glass, like a mirror. There is no breeze, so no rippling of the water at all. Little things really stand out when it is this calm. I can see a leaf floating on the water from 50 feet away, as “something.” You can’t really tell what it is until you are closer and then you realize – oh, it’s just a leaf!

So, as established, I’m in the cove just sort of chillaxin and dangling my fingers in the warm water. I spot something sticking out of the water ahead. (It’s definitely not a leaf.) It’s not sticking out all that much. I am moving (coasting) ever so slowly – I’m practically still. Approaching the thing sticking out, just 5 feet off to the side and in front of me, I see now that it is a turtle. It is rather small, probably 4” in diameter. (I’m reminded of the turtle that lived under my parents dock and when my boys were small they would seek out this turtle, whom they named Tom.) Just as I saw it --- it saw me and dove down quickly. I could see it go – it’s little turtle feet and hands paddling through the water propelling it downward until I lost sight of it, after a couple feet and within seconds of spotting it, due to the murkiness of the water there. Pretty cool.

Well, a couple of weeks later, which was just a couple of weeks ago, I’m in my cove again on my way back from meandering along the rocks near shore. Some of the rocks stick out like icebergs – just the tips. There is much more to them under the water. I guess these rocks are more like boulders and I really like to weave in and around them here, looking down to the smaller rocks a foot - more or less - under the water, getting stuck here and there and grabbing onto the “icebergs” to move myself about. The water is probably at its warmest this time of year, in late August, and I like to “coast” with my hands in the water. Just up ahead I see what I think is just another large rock sticking out of the water. It’s probably 8 – 10 feet ahead but I can see it extending below the water. I realized within a second of seeing it what it was. It is the biggest mother of a snapping turtle that I have ever seen. I pull my hands out of the water. (Are there more just below me waiting for a snack?) This turtle was way bigger than a dinner plate – probably as big as the seat of a chair - the bigger chairs like you’d see in a waiting room. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. I wondered how old it was. How old do turtles get to be? I think they live a very long time. I must have heard this on the Discovery channel (I love that channel). And now I’ll have to do my turtle research to learn all about it. What I did learn though, without doing any research at all, was never to dangle my fingers in the water while in that cove again! Lesson learned! ------- Good turtle, go home! Dive deep!

It was very exciting though. Another great start to the day. There is so much wildlife right here (yes, in my own backyard) I never cease to be amazed and in awe of it. I feel so lucky and blessed to bear witness to it – some of it so fleeting. It is all such a gift (as my neighbor Terry so perfectly put it one morning). After counting my blessings – (and counting my fingers - 10!) – I headed back to the dock.

1 kayak: $349.00
1 paddle: $70.00
1 life jacket: $50.00.
1 hour in the early morning on my lake: priceless.

Please Be Patient - Give Me A Chance

“Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe.” ~ Lennon/McCartney

Oh my goodness, people. Please don’t leave! I’m finding that these posts are just longer than I had intended them to be and I fear that you will all just look at the length and just say; “forget it, not gonna read it, too long. Can’t possibly read all this during the next commercial.” Please hang in there with me. I promise to keep them shorter!

Here’s the thing. When I first mulled over the idea of doing a blog, I thought;

“What will I write about? What do I have to offer? Why would anyone want to read my blog? Will I have enough “material”? Who do I think I am anyway?” You get the idea. I had my doubts. Not that I think anyone is actually out there reading – ok, maybe just one person, but that’s unconfirmed. For all I know these words are just slipping away into cyber space – across the universe – unread. But that’s ok. I’m feeling better already just having written them down.

Anyway – the point is, once I decided I was going to do this, my thoughts meandered "like a restless wind inside a letterbox,” and I couldn’t make it stop. All these years of having conversations in my head - with various friends whom I so rarely see because I wanted to just share things with them – just started flowing out and I started to write down my ideas for the various posts.

So, I will try to make them shorter and to the point. I mean, I don’t need to write a long story about everything, now do I? Like, take tomorrow’s post – already written, well, in my head anyway. Just short and sweet. A very small paragraph. Probably only 5 sentences and no “story” to it – just an observation that made my day.

Please be patient. Give me a chance! Keep reading! Write a comment! Y'all come back now! (all 1 of you) Have a nice day - really!

Close Encounter With A Cat

“I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.” ~ Kipling

As I meandered in my kayak, in the very early morning hours, along the shore of this ancient spring fed lake that I live near, I closed my eyes to listen to the sounds of the birds and the other creatures waking up and coming to life as their new day dawns. I stopped paddling, draping my hands now in the warm water as the kayak continued moving forward - faster than I realized. As I breathe in slowly and deeply, I open my eyes and look over some 15 or 20 feet to the shore, and I am delighted to see a black cat looking right back at me. My day is made! This black cat has white paws and white on his chest and the tip of his tail. You know the type of cat. The cat walks along the shore a bit, not at all timid or alarmed at seeing me. I call softly to him, “Hey kitty cat.” He seems only mildly interested and otherwise preoccupied with something just on the water’s edge. I can’t see, but it’s probably those little minnow fish that hold him captivated. I continue on past him, leaving him to his kitty cat ways and mysterious cat world. But I’m so happy. I saw a cat!

Now, cats are everywhere I’m sure, but I haven’t actually seen one in a while. I don’t currently own a cat – or I should say – a cat does not currently own me, though we did have one for some 15 years. I live down a very long driveway and there is a field on one side of it. Every now and then I have the pleasure of spotting a neighbor’s cat crouching in the grass as I drive past. This is always a lovely surprise for me. While crouching like that, so stealth, a wild look in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking. Then he suddenly turns and starts to walk in the other direction in spurts of sorts. Three quick steps – then stops and looks over his shoulder at me – then three more steps, etc. I’m reminded of a movie where a girl is being followed and walks quickly down the dark street looking over her shoulder and might stop and scream at any time. The cat disappears into the taller grass.

Back to my adventure, there’s more. As I round the bend in the cove, still maybe 10 to 15 feet off shore, I spot a crane standing in the water blending in with the tall reeds. I continue on slowly and the crane seems to be matching my pace, high stepping through the water along the shore with one eye on me. Stunning! Well, around the next bend the reeds are very thick, probably extending out into the water 20 feet. There is a wide cleared area though where you can come up onto shore. This is someone’s beach and there is a dock extending out into the water and a ground deck on the shore. I paddle in to explore a little and, I can’t believe my eyes when I spot another cat looking at me from the deck on shore. This cat seems very startled by my appearance but I am thrilled to see him. He is a grey stripped tiger cat, and reminds me of the cat we had for 15 years. This cat seems more so like the cat in the field – uptight and wild eyed - than the other more relaxed Sylvester cat I just saw in the other cove. He just sort of watches me from a safe distance as I, again, say “good morning kitty cat.” It seems he is about to run, so I slowly move away leaving him in peace.

As it comes time to head back, I feel so fortunate and am glad to have had my encounters with 2 cats (and a crane!) What a great way to start the day. I am happy, refreshed, renewed and ready for the day ahead. And although I can’t wait for my morning kayaking tomorrow, I will savor my day today.

Flight of the Hummingbird

“The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp.” ~ John Berry

We have a hummingbird feeder. I always thought, and still do, that hummingbirds are a magical kind of bird and that seeing one is a very rare occurrence. I always feel honored and privileged when one appears, seemingly out of nowhere, to hang in the air in front of me as if to say, “quick, look at me.” Well, yesterday I was blessed 4 times with the sight of this hummingbird that, now I guess I can say, visits us regularly. I must think of a name for him. Of course, I would think that there is more than one, right? Probably at least two – a “couple” I’d think. I do have a hummingbird book somewhere and will have to study them now and find out what I can online. This is a project for me now – a mission.

So, here is an accounting of those 4 sightings:

I was upstairs looking out the bathroom window into the backyard. (I’m looking – always, always looking.) Our hummingbird feeder is attached on a pole on the rail of the deck which extends about 4 feet up, above the rail. Anyway, I gaze out and there is the hummingbird, testing out each of the 4 fake flower things on the feeder. I watch. He (she?) doesn’t seem to like what we have to offer there and is gone within 6 seconds. (We need to change that red sugar stuff, I think, so he’ll stay longer next time.)

Next. I’m sitting at the kitchen table where we have 2 sets of sliders. One on the east side of the kitchen and one on the north side. They both open out onto our wrap around deck. The kitchen is huge, really, and very bright and open. I like to sit at the table there. So, I glance up and see a swoosh of something outside and although it doesn’t hover about this time, I know it is my hummingbird. This puts a smile on my face.

Later on, at the table again, I see my bird – this time hovering and checking out the rail. Poking around under the rail where the spindle meets the top. Is he looking for bugs? Do they eat bugs? Oh, I’m really going to look this up later. I feel badly because I had just, earlier, hosed off some of the spider webs there where little bugs were trapped. Oh dear! Sorry little bird. I didn’t know!

The last sighting of the day was back out at the feeder. I was at the kitchen window this time with another good view of my little friend. I guess he wanted to see if we had changed the stuff yet and was probably sorely disappointed. It’s on my “to do” list and I’d better hurry I guess. He was gone within a few seconds. I hope he comes back again. Please come back little bird. I will change the red stuff for you!

So – 4 sightings in one day! Very cool. Very, very cool!

Fellowship

"When one tugs at a single thing in nature … he finds it attached to the rest of the world.” -John Muir (1838 – 1914) American naturalist.

I woke to 50 glorious degrees this 1st day of September. Crisp, clear and gorgeous. Although the sun would not be officially rising for another 20 minutes, at 5:55 it was plenty light and I was anxious to get out on the lake. I was running behind time and was a little panicked. I felt as if the day had started without me some 30 to 40 minutes earlier while I slept and I felt this urgency to catch up – to get outside and see what I had missed. Although I had not missed the sunrise, I had missed first light. “It’s ok,” I assured myself. There’s still time. My kayak having been loaded into the truck the night before, I poured the hot coffee into my mug, (the timer had been set last night, and as always the coffee was waiting for me --- Nice!) grabbed my PFD and off I went.

As I unloaded my kayak I called “mornin” to my 2 fishermen friends who are always there. “I hope you brought your cold weather jacket,” Pete called back to me. “I’ll be warm enough. Chilly today though, huh?” I wore only a light hooded sweatshirt over my tee and my usual nylon red boating shorts. I knew that once I was in the kayak, being low on the water, I would be warm enough. I’ve learned, through experience, that the gentle breeze off the water is warmed by it and this keeps me plenty warm. Of course the life jacket is thick and this helps too. Unfortunately my paddle is aluminum which was very cold. Time to break out the gloves, I thought.

I was only 30 feet out when an osprey swooped down and grabbed a fish from the water right in front of us. I heard Pete, from behind me, comment that the bird had just caught his breakfast and “I hope he can hold on to it.” The fish did seem to squirm around but I think the osprey had a pretty good grip on him. Off they went.

As I rounded the first bend at “the point” and headed into the cove there, I spotted the guy who lives nearby and walks his dogs through the park to the dock there. We waved to each other and he commented on what a gorgeous day it was. Although I can’t recall his name I know his dogs are Glory, the yellow lab who’s nearly 11 and Missy, the rescue black lab whose age we don’t know, but she’s up there. We’ve met here, while walking our dogs, a few times and it’s always nice to chat with him. My golden retriever is Missy too – she’s 5. (see picture, taken on a different day – on the dock) While I am just beginning my day he, I believe, is nearing the end of his – working 3rd shift I think. We bid each other a good day and he turned to go up the path to the point with his dogs and I continued along the shore.

I crossed the cove and went along the shore on the north side of the lake heading west now. The sun was still low in the east behind me, trying to poke through the trees. Of course I couldn’t help to look back. I love how the sun filters through the trees this way. As I approached the first island I decided to go around the shore of it clockwise, rather than go between it and the main land. I hadn’t explored this part of it yet. I’m still a couple hundred feet out but I can see the rocks just 1 foot down. Kinda scary and exciting! I spot some fishing line and I see the lure stuck in the rocks there. I wondered how long it has been lodged there. Years? Perhaps.

As I went on a little further and came upon the sandy beach area I heard a familiar swishing sort of – that I recognized as my solo sculling friend. Since he sits facing toward where he has been rather than where he is going – he hadn’t seen me yet. I was tucked in by the shore anyway and he was out 40 feet or more. I waited until he was almost past me so that he wouldn’t have to turn his head much, and I called “Good mornin’ Ron.” He stopped paddling and we talked for a few minutes about osprey, snapping turtles and hawks. After we said our “have a good day,” we both agreed it would be hard to have anything but a good day – having gotten a great start to it like this. Off we went. He continued out as I headed on back.

It truly was a great start to the day and it was nice to chat with some of the others of my “congregation.”

Trains and Time

“My grandfather’s clock was too big for the shelf, so it stood 90 years on the floor. It was taller by half than the old man himself and it weighed not a penny weight more.”

At the start of my walk this morning with my dog, still in our yard, I heard the train’s whistle signaling its approach to the intersection a few miles from my home. It seemed really loud to me and I remember thinking that I hadn’t heard the train in a while although it does keep a schedule and I believe it passes through my sleepy little town twice a day (maybe it’s 4 times)– well, actually twice (4x?) in 24 hours because you can hear it in “the middle of the night.” While I was still standing in the driveway – taking in the sight of the morning sun lighting up the trees and waiting for my dog to sniff around – my neighbors appeared, to begin their daily walk. At 6:30 AM, we had all gotten a late start today and I’m grateful for the coincidental meeting between us. My neighbor, Terry, asked if I had just heard the whistle too. We both agreed that it seemed loud and close and that we hadn’t heard it in a while. Jack had heard it in the middle of the night though. Now, it makes me wonder if I’m just so used to hearing it that I really don’t notice it anymore – just now and then. Umm!

When we first built our house and moved in, almost 20 years to the day, my husband surprised me with a gorgeous grandfather clock that first Christmas in 1989. It graces our foyer still and was the perfect addition – along with the pricey Persian rug – to make our foyer complete. The clock has this lovely sounding chime that plays every quarter hour. Well, for the first week – all through the night – I was awoken every quarter hour by this “lovely chime.” 4 chimes at quarter past: 8 chimes at half past: 12 chimes at quarter to: and finally the full 16 chimes on the hour of course followed by the foreboding chimes in a minor key ringing out the time. 1AM! 2AM! 3AM in the freakin’ morning! Well after a week or two (I guess, I really don’t remember exactly – it was a long time ago and I’m all settled in now) instead of the clock’s lovely chimes snatching me out of a - not so deep, apparently – sleep, I started waking up every quarter hour just seconds before the chiming. Will I ever know a good night’s sleep again, I wondered? Well, I guess shortly after that I must have gotten used to it and never woke again to neither the chiming nor just prior to it.

I’m happy I have the clock. The chimes really are lovely – during the day. And I’m glad I heard the train’s whistle this morning. I don’t ever want to get so used to these things that I become oblivious or otherwise desensitized to it all.

Last year when my son was home from college on Christmas break I woke one morning to discover that the clock hadn’t wound down but the pendulum just hung still, rendering the chimes silent of course. This had been done at 2AM it seems. If only time could be stopped that easily I thought. When my son woke later that morning (I figured that he had stopped it because he probably was no longer used to the chiming and it kept him up.) I showed him how he could just slide a lever up, putting the chimes on silent but allowing the clock to continue ticking, still keeping time. Why I did not think of this years ago, I’ll never know!

“Hey Mom, remember when we first got this clock and you would sing that song to me, something like ‘My grandfather’s clock----,’ you used to sing it all the time, remember?”

“Yes,” I say, walking into the kitchen so he won’t see the tears that have suddenly welled up in my eyes. I wish turning back time could actually be done by turning the hands of my clock backwards.

“Yes, I remember,” I say, feeling glad that he remembers too and feeling thankful to be sharing this moment and memory with him now, some 20 years later.