Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Quotes’ Category

It is such a joy to have someone who wishes to sit with you on a sofa and listen to a watch tick.  Penelope Fitzgerald

DSCN7323When I first saw this quote on Nan’s blog, Letters from a Hill Farm, I knew I would eventually pirate it to the pages of the Cutoff. Fitzgerald’s quote speaks volumes about the sweet moments of being with children. It is the simple, quiet (or not so) moments that are endearing and that keep us company in the off hours when they are not with us.

As I’m nearing my time to leave for home, the tender moments of being with Kezzie and Ezra are all the sweeter, as is my time with their Daddy and Mommy. I will soon get in my car, packed with my belongings, and a few of theirs; their sweet child smells and their soft padded tread, as well as enough loud and enthusiastic sounds that could fill a sports arena. I will pack their endless questions and propositions. “One more time, Yia Yia.” The whys and whens, and the inevitable poopies, Yia Yia” ). In will go the yogurt smudged sweater and the slightly bent emery board.DSCN7353

Gone is my little notepad, now Kezzie’s Journal. Can you imagine that? A kindred spirit if ever there was one. Her first entry is a picture and a fine one at that.

As I mosey down the long road toward home, I’ll wonder if Ezra will finally call me Yia Yia instead of Jenny – once I close the door – and if Kezzie will still feel our cuddle times when I’m no longer there and I will hold the gentle bliss that comes from listening to a watch click.

DSCN7332DSCN7327

 

DSCN7328Photo on 2-6-15 at 1.46 PMPhoto on 2-10-15 at 12.05 PM #2

Read Full Post »

“A writer – and, I believe, generally all persons – must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.” Jorge Luis Borges

DSCN7110

The photo above was my last view of a sunset, two days ago. So rare have sunsets been this January that I almost forgot how magical one could be. It has been so gloomy and gray. I know I really should not complain. We have not had the snowstorms other areas have had and this is certainly a milder winter than last year’s – at least so far.

With all these gray, gray days, I’ve indulged in a few more cups of coffee and tea than I usually have. The result is a look reminiscent of a current movie. What do you think? Do I deserve an Oscar?

Photo on 1-26-15 at 11.15 AM

Then, there was a long and sleepless night that resulted in this,

4-up on 1-25-15 at 4.34 AM (compiled)

which probably was influenced by an overheard conversation between four fellows, one of whom regaled the others with a tale about a vacation he took a decade past. He was, I overheard,  on a cruise ship that became stranded off the coast of Alaska. It was a rather riveting tale, full of drama and fear, rocking and rolling, waves and weather, and a vow to never set sail again.

I tried not to listen. Really, I did, but, gosh and by golly, it was such an adventure that I just pretended to have my nose in a book. The chap seemed sincere. His table mates seemed to believe him. It didn’t matter, for it was so gloomy and grim and cold outside that I might as well have been stranded at sea as well and so, I engaged in art of eavesdropping.

The chap was rolling like waves in a storm as he told of panic aboard and of those who tried to stay calm. There were helicopters and deck chairs dancing, seasickness and worry. He claimed a depiction on some adventure channel and then . . .

. . . snip, snap, snout, his tale was told out.

The men put on their hats and coats. Still talking, they followed him out the door and my mind followed my nose back into my book, “Somewhere Safe With Somebody Good” by Jan Karon. It was there that I came across Jorge Luis Borges’ quote, which was, I thought, quite timely, and just the kind of raw material I needed to shape this winter night’s post.

Read Full Post »

DSCN7068“When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one’s ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Read Full Post »

DSCN6603“But in this season it is well to reassert that the hope of mankind rests in faith.

“As man thinketh, so he is.”

Nothing much happens unless you believe in it, and believing there is hope for the world is a way to move toward it. “

Gladys Taber

 

Read Full Post »

DSCN6138 - Version 2

It is currently said that hope goes with youth, and lends to youth its wings of a butterfly; but I fancy that hope is the last gift given to man, and the only gift not given to youth. Youth is pre-emininently the period in which a man can be lyric, fanatical, poetic; but youth is the period in which man can be hopeless. The end of every episode is the end of the world. But the power of hoping through everything, the knowledge that the soul survives its adventures, that great inspiration comes to the middle-aged: God has kept that good wine until now. It is from the backs of the elderly gentlemen that the wings of the butterfly should burst.

Charles Dickens: Last of the Great Men

Read Full Post »

Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow.  

Helen Keller

DSCN5790

Read Full Post »

Ray and Tom Maggliozzi.“I like to drive with the windows open. I mean, before you know it, you’re going to spend plenty of time sealed up in a box anyway, right?” Tom Magliozzi

The first time I heard Tom and Ray Magliozzi was on a Saturday morning running errands. The car radio was tuned in to WBEZ, Chicago’s public radio station.

Saturday morning and public radio were as much a part of weekends here in Chicagoland as high school football games and caramel/pecan coffee cake from the corner bakery.  As I drove, two guys who, except for their strong Boston accents, talked and laughed and could just as easily been sitting around the kitchen table of my childhood. There they were, on 91.5,  bantering back and forth, one ribbing the other about who was smarter – and they were discussing cars!  Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers; graduates of MIT who managed to engineer a living talking to folks from around the United States about their cars.

As time went on, Car Talk became a Saturday morning ritual.  Cleaners, grocery, softball practice – and Car Talk. Whether making the bed, folding laundry, or heading to a cross-country meet, Car Talk was our conversation of choice. Tom or I would make sure the other was “tuned in” if we weren’t together – and if we were, we laughed out load, puzzled over “The Puzzler”,  and smiled as the audio credits rolled, attributing the show to illustrative talents such as the law firm that represented them. Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe.

They were that kind of funny!

Car Talk. A radio talk show as much for women as men.

Tom and Ray Magliozzi reminded me of my father, uncles, and the rest of the gang “discussing” life’s events around the table of my life, while they also taught me a bit about cars and a bit about life as big brother, Tom, and younger brother, Ray, gave folksy advice to listeners calling in, with some armchair therapy along with it.

Tom Magliozzi has passed on to that great garage in the sky. My Tom sent me an email message with the news while I was in a meeting on Monday. That sort of news just couldn’t wait until I returned home, and I know it is one sad bit of news Tom did not want me to hear on the radio, the media that mad the Magliozzi boys famous.

As I read the message,  I swear I could hear Tom Magliozzi’s infectious laugh, the windows to his car wide open, as he entered the Pearly Gates Auto Shop.

Image from Boston Globe via Google. Also on Car Talk website.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

Loop Head Lore

stories from the west of county clare

mirandasnotebook

Your Guide to a Stylish Life

Petals. Paper. Simple Thymes

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." William Wordsworth

My Chicago Botanic Garden

A blog for visitors to the Garden.

Living Designs

Circles of Life: My professional background in Foods and Nutrition (MS, Registered and Licensed Dietitian Nutritionist, RDN, LDN) provides the background for my personal interests in nutrition, foods and cooking; health and wellness; environment and sustainability.

Women Making Strides

Be a Leader in Your Own Life

Raising Milk and Honey

The Farm at Middlemay

The Cottonwood Tree

Beautiful Things Inspired by Laura Ingalls Wilder

cakes, tea and dreams

savoring the beauty in the everyday

Romancing the Bee

Beautiful Beekeeping, English Cottage Gardening, and Cooking with Honey

Book Snob

FOR DISCERNING READERS

teacups & buttercups

An old fashioned heart

Louisa May Alcott is My Passion

Analysis and reflection from someone endlessly fascinated with Louisa May Alcott. Member/supporter of Louisa May Alcott's Orchard House (including the Alcott International Circle) and the Louisa May Alcott Society.

breathelighter

Reducing stress one exhale at a time ...exploring Southern California and beyond

Kate Shrewsday

A thousand thousand stories

Blogging from the Bog

musings from and about our cottage in the West of Ireland

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 413 other followers