My Way of Living [Search results for LIVE] 

Reality:In philosophy, reality is the state of things as they actually exist rather than as they may appear or might be imagined. re·al·i·ty [ree-al-i-tee] Noun Reality, cold hard facts. Real stuff. Real… hmmmmm right. Well who wants to live in reality when you can live in a not real world where it’s always your favourite season, at least until you look out the window and notice it’s snowing.

Or maybe you would like to live like the Boo, where it’s always meal time.at least in his reality. And despite his doing his best to convince us that it’s always meal time, he does have to wait.

Spring is making me wait, as I look out the window of reality into yet another day of snow falling in my garden, well I think there is a garden under that white mound.

Who can blame me for not wanting to live in reality.it’s cold, some days it’s dark, gloomy, and snowy. Well at least there are birds in reality.feeding frantically because of the snow. Birds, and bills, and phone calls, chores, and laundry, and what’s for dinner?

Now why do I have to live in reality again? If I live in my world, there are only flowers blooming, a gardener’s heart that is overflowing, spring abounding. The perfect garden in a perfect world… no muss, no fuss, no bugs… no water restrictions… I think I have some gardening to do in my not so real world… wish me dirty hands, and a happy heart. And then I will come back to reality and make dinner.

I have always said the ocean has part of my heart, it always will. Born by the ocean grew up by the ocean, the waters lapping the sandy beach watched as I learned to walk. The raging waves soothed my soul on days when I was a little turbulent myself. The tang of the salt air, the cries of the gulls.

My heart, half of my heart

belongs to the ocean

but the larger half belongs

up here.

Those are sounds and scents I will never let leave my heart. But is it possible to love something, and still be homesick when you live where your heart has decided is your home?

This is our home, it’s always felt like we were wrenching ourselves away when we left here to go back to the coast. Our hearts have decided this is where we shall live, and I am at peace with this, it’s what we want. But part of me is still standing on the West Coast, beside the waves as they crash through the driftwood.

How can I give my heart to two homes? Can a person live loving two places, this is home but the ocean still has half of my heart. The North Okanagan is where we have chosen to live, it’s our home, it’s our desire to live here, but the ocean has the other half of my heart, and I don’t want it to give it up.

I do not long for the rain, the crowds, the pollution, just the ocean, all by myself, the breeze laden with salt blowing my hair into tangles… the gulls keening overhead. My camera in my hand, the clouds moody, the sand damp with foam. It’s no wonder the ocean has half of my heart.

The other half, the larger half belongs up here, with the farmland, the mountains, the crystal clear streams, the rivers raging, the fields of golden ripening wheat. The eagles, the crows the wildlife that we see on a daily basis that have replaced the crowds.

And I don’t know if the ocean will ever give back it’s half of my heart, or if I want it to do so. Do you long to live in two places, is your heart in pieces? Or are you living where your heart has decided it should be? Listening to the waves in my heart…

When your heart breaks upon leaving. When you yearn to live there but don’t. When it feels more like a homecoming then a visit, you know this is where you should live.

Every dream has a

price. It’s up to you to

decide if it’s worth it.

Even if you have to move your entire life and make sacrifices to get there it’s worth it in the end. We found our peace, our place and with scenery like this I know once again that we made the right move. This is why we live here. I do miss the Ocean, it has part of my heart, it always will. I miss my friends enormously, I miss the convenience and selection of the places that we left.

Yes, it’s hot in the summer, I feel like I will never cool down, and in the winter I will never warm up.

But there is nothing like this Okanagan valley.

And when you can drive a few minutes from your house to catch scenery like this, then you realize that yes, you did make the right move.

And that is why we live here. Watching the setting sun…

It’s tinder dry, brown, and crisp. There is a massive [at this time 100 + hectares] forest fire raging in Peachland, which lays in the central Okanagan in British Columbia. That’s only a hour and a half from our place. Homes are being evacuated, it’s so bad the highway is closed near Peachland. My neighbours are having campfires in their backyard every night during the fire ban, a re these people special? Why don’t the rules apply to everyone?

They have a fire pit burning in their lawn, during a fire ban, in a area that is full of large trees, dry grass, and houses. I can smell the smoke every night that they are thoughtlessly burning in their backyard.

I am worried for the people who live in Peachland, the TV news showing billowing smoke, the burning area growing by the minute, fire consuming everything. Water bombers, and helicopters are doing what they can, fire fighters are on the ground, but as it stands right now, they don’t know if it will do more damage before they contain it.

This is a threat that we all live with in the Okanagan, wild fires, lightening strikes, and burning houses. It’s reality in a dry climate, and with a active fire ban you think that people would be a little more concerned. They don’t seem to care, and it’s frustrating that we can’t pin point exactly who is burning campfires. There seems to be a real live, and let live mentality around here, if your neighbours are lighting fires during a fire ban, just ignore it and be a good neighbour. Is it easier to do that, and take the chance of a spark igniting, then saying something?

We saw a large plume of black smelly smoke making it’s way up to the sky the other day, someone burning garbage probably, no one worries.except for a few of us. I have to wonder if the rules only apply to some people, and if those that break them really care if anyone else is hurt. Smouldering…

Where I live now there are more piles of snow dotting the landscape then there are patches of grass. We expect snow in Winter, but when it hangs on too long there are some pretty antsy gardeners.

My well meaning friends back where I used to live are sending me photos, and telling me that spring is 6 weeks early, when it seems that mine is later then ever. Have you ever been in this situation? Every time you get a email it's someone s haring sprouted green leaves, and avenues of Cherry trees dripping with blossoms. Meanwhile the only thing dripping at your place is your nose. Nothing can make you ooze sap faster then a pruned rose bush in May then photos arriving on your ice cold computer in March. Lush blossoms sprinkling the virtual page, when all around you are bare, dark branches and patches of snow. It's not that we don't love the photos…it's the sentiments attached, they seem a little thorny, spiking jealousy in our gardener's hearts. Here's my list of top 5 things not to say to gardeners with sodden, frozen, soil, hidden under a avalanche of snow at this time of year. After all, I should know, at one time I was one of those obnoxious gardeners who sent friends pictures of snow drops in January, and look where I live now. Talk about garden karma. 1. Spring will come to your place eventually, did you know that ours is earlier each year? 2. Shall I send more photos to make up for your long winter? 3. You can garden inside can't you, start some seeds, you can plant them outside in a few months. 4. You could take up crocheting, all gardeners love to crochet. 5. I'm sure there are nice greenhouses where you live, you can visit them until spring comes along. Oh yes, as soon as they plow the driveways, and shovel the snow. Or maybe I can take the huskies, and the dogsled out for a run. No, really, stop making us envy you spring will come to us, just stop rubbing it in. To pass the time until spring arrives, check out the new Facebook group that Laura, from Simple Serene Living and I have created. The Over 40 Blogging World is a FB group for woman bloggers providing positive support for each other no matter how big, or small their blogs are, or which platform they use. It's a fun group, and we would love to see you there.
We'll have virtual, calorie free cupcakes too! Chocolate, and vanilla. PS, just a reminder I'm moving my blog this week, so expect a few glitches.
I'll still be the same blogger, showing my photos, weaving my stories, it will just be at Word Press, and under a new name www.thelightlaughed.com. You can read about the change here.
I'd would love to have you come along as the journey continues.

What is it about Men, and their recliners?
That love/love relationship they have with big comfy chairs.
Overstuffed, overly large, comfy, cushioned, clicker hiding, reclining comfort.
Usually delegated downstairs to the “man cave” along with the big screen TV, so as not to add a note of discord to the beauty of the feminine decor that inhabits the main floor in many houses.

Years ago, one of the biggest choices, and compromises in our then new marriage was the choice of furniture for our new home. The experts will tell you it’s all about children, where to live, money… but it’s furniture, trust me. His stuff, your stuff, how to combine our stuff… big time.
My husband came without baggage, other then a absolutely tasteless off white vinyl Swedish modern, IKEA knockoff, footstool equipped Sears special.
He declared undying love for it. I declared undying love for him, but not for the chair.
A tie breaker? A deal maker? Would it be him, or the chair, or would I have to live with the evil step child of a chair in order to be happily ever after with Prince Charming.
We compromised, and went shopping.
Thus began the search for “I’ll know it when I find it.”
Months later, and more stores then I ever want to visit again, after numerous discussions, disagreements, compromises, and bargaining, he happily settled into a beautiful, clean lined recliner that we could bo th live with. It cost as much as a few mortgage payments but we were happy.

Finding something that pleased both of our tastes was a lesson in subjectivity. But we finally learned to live happily ever after with this new step child, both of us coming to love the chair that took center stage in our living room.
Time marched on, we moved up here the chair took a beating from the moving company that manhandled many of our precious items. It started to grow metal springs like curly hairs from it’s back, transforming from a gentle well behaved piece of furniture to a squeaking, sagging, jolting beast shedding foam chips, and black greasy dust every time someone sat in it.

We gazed with dread upon flyers, and catalogues… how would we ever find a chair that would fit into our family without discord.
We searched, he sat, I encouraged, he declined, I sighed. Chair after chair, store after store, there were contenders, close calls, and compromises. We were rather rusty at choosing, it had been more then a decade since we last adopted a step child chair.
Then one snowy blustery, the first day of spring he found it. He spied it sitting in a row of 20 or so like minded chairs, he sat, he reclined… and declared it the one. Like true love, he knew instantly.

I’m not sure what the future will hold, it’s his true love, I am merely the [wicked] stepmother… but you know, it might grow on me like the other one did. Tell us about your recliner stories… especially if they are the horror story ones… lol.

“And what do you do?”
They always ask, with a hidden question in their eye. Like dogs sniffing each other, finding, categorizing, settling into place.
Eager for a treat, a smidge of eyebrow raised with it’s “ohhhh.”
Impress us, they don’t say, but want to. “I’m a blogger” I tell them.

Just a blogger, with socks under the bed, worries in her head.
And a line of comments to be returned in my inbox that snakes longer then any freeway snarl.
[One day I hope, the traffic jam will be untangled.]
I’m a blogger, words unbidden come to my mind, and I try to give them life.
Hang them on a clothesline out in the fresh air, to be shared. With.
Trying to balance, life, love, aging parents, obligations.
Appointments, duties, housework, worries, inspirations, and the ever calling camera.
“I’m just a blogger” I shrug.
As if to knock a misinformed idea off of my shoulder.
Yes, it might be a chip also.

Last years shots, taken at the same time of year, but it looks so much colder then.
A blogger who takes photos, lots of photos, and has a camera in her hand almost all the time, and might just have a wee little crush on Instagram right now.
Yes, just like those people who are on their cell phones, but it’s a DSLR camera.
And I take great photos, I wish I could be so cheeky to say.
Just a blogger!
“A blogger!”
They exclaim, as if I had said I was a early Egyptian explorer in a world that had not yet been found.

“What’s that?
And why?”
“I had no idea people did that,” they say. Not how, and what do you get out of it? Do you like doing it? Is it fun. "But oh… oh?” “Why?”
Because.
And I smile inside, because after all, we know why we blog.
And that’s why. Maybe it’s because this is Canada, and we are a gentle but less worldly people, [just kidding here].
But I seem to be encountered some pretty uninformed people, those who cannot/will not understand, or appreciate the love of blogging that we share, lately.
Those who have “ no interest at all in trying to understand why anyone would do that” because they themselves are not interested in blogging.
Have you had this response too?
I want to tell them.
To each their own, but still,… oh come on.
Learn to accommodate others, let live, and live.
Expand your mind, ah… feels good does it to let some fresh air in does it?
We are, and we do, and for that I am truly grateful.
Besides, blogging has opened up a huge world for me, full of inspiration, creativity, encouragement, and really fun people.
Thank goodness.
No matter where we live. Jane

The ocean, the one thing I

knew for sure I would miss when I moved from the water of the West Coast of British Columbia where I grew up to the interior of BC. Homesickness is a funny thing when you find yourself living where you have wanted to be for so long, but it’s been a year and a half, and I still miss the ocean, I always will.

Unless you have lived by the ocean, you can’t imagine the lushness of the undergrowth, the salty tang of the ocean air. The cry of the gulls, as they circle, and the lashing of the angry waves on the beach when a storm is coming.

It’s the ability to see further than your eye can focus, a never ending horizon of misty grey water, punctuated by sea birds, and maybe a seal if you are extremely lucky.

My link to the ocean isn’t as weak as you would assume now that I live 5 hours away… it’s there in my memories, in my heart, in my photos that bring it to life when I look at them again. There is salt water is in my veins it’s been in my life from the time I was born, it will never go away. I keep it touch with the ocean through those who blog and live near the water, it’s sandy beaches so grey, but skies so blue.

And if you live near the ocean please do me a favour, go and visit one cool spring day, stand on the sand, let the wind coat you with salt, a scent that will linger even after you go home. Open your arms wide as you face the water. And give the ocean a hug for me.

It’s definitely winter around here.
And I thought I had made my peace with it.
Really, truly, thought it was fine.
And then the January blues came by like a heard of wild buffalo dusting up a storm.
I know that into every life a little winter blues might fall.
I suppose it’s bound to happen, the euphoria of the Christmas season had ended.
Valentines Day isn’t quite close enough to get excited about.
Most of us are deep in the icy grip of the chilly winter zone.

But it was the trip to the BIG CITY the other day that triggered this one.
And suddenly it hit me.
Spring probably isn’t just around the corner here.
Our trip to the BIG CITY is a bit more then a hour’s drive… and it’s a whole new world out there. It’s not just bigger stores, and more people.
It’s going from our place where the snow is measured in number of feet, and the icicles hang so low on the vehicles that they break off on the speed bumps, to a clearly barren grey, snowless land is a bit of a shock.
You mean, the frozen north, isn’t frozen all over? It’s not all gently rolling drifts, and piles of dirty snow soon to be covered once again with marshmallow fluff?
Where were the icy puddles, dirty windshields, and frosty mitt covered hands?
Are those, could those be, sidewalks, we only see those in the summer.
And this is only a hour away?
We’re not in Kansas anymore Bootsie.

Apparently they live like this most of the winter… it’s like being on the coast all over again, just a tiny bit colder. Now I can see why it’s such a BIG CITY, everyone wants to live there.
Except for us of course.
I had no idea… and most of the time we live in a snow and ice covered world, white fields, and frosted mountains, it’s life, this is the snowy Okanagan after all.

Life is full of surprises isn’t it?
I mean, we knew that the al most big city, which is around 20 minutes away gets less snow then we do…
Our little town below gets less snow then we do up here on the mountainside… that’s life, we don’t mind, it goes away.oh around March. And when it gets too much we go to the almost big city where there is so little they probably don’t have snow removal people working full time. But that the BIG CITY has no snow, we just couldn’t get over it.
Hmmm, so maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder… open spaces, white fields, lots of snow, birds and deer in the back yard, when I’m in the BIG CITY, I miss that.
I’ll take mine with snow please.

We talk about personal journeys in blogging a lot.
How the road can be rocky at times, how you might lose your direction, your voice and how you will find it again.
It might seem just a matter of sitting down, writing, popping in a few photos, and voila, a blog post
Yes that’s a blog post, but when you share even the smallest details you become part of something that is bigger then you are.
Build a tribe, the experts will tell you when you start to blog.
Gather those together who like your blog and support it.
Those who tweet it, plus one it, and generally get the word out there into blog land.
Where does a tribe live?
They live in a village, I really like mine, and I think they really like me, we share, we comment, we celebrate good things, commiserate over the not so good, welcome newcomers, and look out for each other. Stop posting for awhile, and see how many of your villagers email to find out what’s wrong.
I’ve found blogging to be one of the most life changing social media experiences I’ve ever participated in. It’s a community, a like minded group that supports, and cherishes it’s members, allows them to grow at their own speed, and still remain true to themselves.
And despite that there are still those who are not involved in blogging that just don’t understand what all the fuss is about. You don’t blog for them, you blog for your village.

Why does it take a village to write a blog? Because it’s a support system, they are going to cheer you on, uplift, and inspire your thoughts, just as you uplift, support, cheer on the sidelines, and inspire others.
It’s give and take, it’s feeling that spark of creativity you might get after leaving a comment, a hey there’s a blog post somewhere in here, and you are off and running.
It’s following, and learning from someone who is an more accomplished writer then you are, not in order to copy their style but to better learn what yours is, and how to express it fully.
It’s looking at awe inspiring images that tug at your heart, wondering how they did that, and vowing to learn to be a better photographer, going back and rereading tutorials, taking the camera out once again, it’s that little push that encourages you to grow.
It’s reading a how to on something that has eluded you, learning a better way to do it, it a oh my goodness, I didn’t think I could do this, kind of feeling.

Building relationships with those who are into blogging is not just something to do because it’s pinned as the top 10 things to do to build a audience. It’s not just to keep your readers coming back, or your stats up, comments flowing.
It’s you being real, and authentic.
It’s only then that you realize just how big this village really is. It’s astounding how much support you can get from people that you have never met in person, how great friendships can develop.
F rom comments come conversations, those develop into friendships. Those friendships are real people… not just words on your blog, yes they are a tribe, and they live in your village.
Being part of that village will require honesty, truthfulness, and integrity, it’s not about oversharing, but discerning what to share, and how. It’s a driving force, that encourages you to write better posts with some regularity. You will want to write something worth reading, because you know that the people who read your blog, are interested in what you have to say.

In your village, bloggers will come, and some will go. It’s part of life, we are all nomads as bloggers, while it’s sad to lose touch with someone we have met and feel a connection to, and we miss their comments it was time for them to move on, interests change, situations change.
Expect the village to shift in size regularly, and be welcoming to those who are new to it, and c elebrate being part of something bigger then yourself.
Because it takes village to write blog.

We all talk about seizing the day living each moment to the absolute fullest, squeezing every drop out of life.but that’s sometimes impossible to do while living a real life. There are jobs, chores, obligations and emotions that demand more then their fair share of any conscious moment of living. If somehow you manage to live each second to it’s absolute fullest, my respect for you is enormous,… me I’m just trying to live in a given moment, appreciating it however brief that might be, and know I am being handed a gift so rare, that it should be gently cupped in my hands and looked upon with awe.

Yesterday was one of those rare days perfect warmish weather, birds chirping, sky a shimmering blue, the scent of spring keeping it’s promise.

My husband and I worked together in the back yard, we accomplished so much, my husband the muscle, me the cheerleader. We built a composter out of old pallets, and he moved the massive pile of leaves, dirt, and rotting garden treasures that was hulking in the corner, using it as the base for a new bed, besides the chain link fence. There will be pumpkins, squash, cucumbers, and zucchini growing in that this summer.

We built a raised wooden bed out of recycled materials for more veggies… well he did, I cheered him on. Go Gardener, go gardener! Of course there is little I can do, but my back is healing, and each day is a little better than the last.

It’s not so much what we accomplished, as the beauty of the day, the feeling of moving forward together after a winter of looking out on a snow covered backyard, planning, dreaming, wishing, seeing it come true bit by bit. A day to forget daily life, and live only in the feel of the sunshine on our heads, birdsong in our ears… and blue sky in our hearts. A day so rare, I held it in my hands with awe.

To those of you who are spring starved… don’t get too excited about these photos, they are all from last year, mostly taken in early April if that makes you feel any better.

I’m looking forward to taking part in Brenda from A Cosy Little House’s new series on Thrifty Living 2012. In this series, there will be five women sharing the individual struggles they face economically with their families in a particular region. Each week [Thursday] one of us, Brenda, Claudia , Elaine , Diane, and myself will feature a topic on how we are living more thriftily in the year 2012. Then the rest of us will add our own paragraph or so on how we apply that to our own lives.

We run the gamut. Brenda is a single family household. Claudia and Don live with their two dogs in New York. Elaine has a small daughter, and grown children in Southern California. Diane and Ron live in Florida and are retired. Gar and I have just relocated to another part of BC, Canada and have just bought our first house.

So here’s my introduction:

My name is Jane. My husband, along with Bootsie our cat, and I have just moved up to the North Okanagan, in BC, Canada. We moved from a small condo in White Rock, near the beach to the gorgeous mountains, cold winters, and hot summers of the Okanagan to be near my family. It's a huge change for us, going from 850 sq. ft. condo, to 1st time homeowners of a real house! The first thing I would have to say, is it's expensive to do this, from the move, to the house purchase it's been a big drain on our finances. Like everyone else we have a budget that we have to live within.

So while I might dream of tearing out the kitchen right away, and replacing all the brass colored door handles, along with the interesting light fixtures, reality will take over as soon as we move into our new home. And that's where Thrifty Living 2012 comes in. I am going to have to dig deep, and be creative in order to make this house our home without breaking the bank.

We will be living in a rural area, it's a long drive to the grocery store, or to a job, there is no Friday night take out around here. We plan on recycling as much of our waste as possible, because there isn't any garbage pick up, no mail at the door, and I am not sure if there is even any cable.

As soon as summer comes along I am going to learn to can, and freeze summer fruits, and veggies for the winter months. I have big plans for a garden, and I love to cook, usually making most of our meals from scratch because of my severe allergies to so many foods, and additives. I also make my own cleaning solutions because I am allergic to the commercial ones that you would buy in the store.

It's going to be fun, and interesting, and I am sure that you will pick up some great tips from our series on Thrifty living 2012.

To read the introductions from the rest of this team, go over to:

Brenda of Cozy Little House

Claudia of Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Elaine of Sunny Simple Life

Diane of Lavender Dreams

I am heading off to read the other introductions, and get to know the other bloggers in this series, talk to you later.

So it’s official, not only have we been here for a full year but we are now accepted as residents. Yes fully fledged members of… well that depends upon whom you speak to, and how much longer they have lived here than us. And whether or not they were born here, and are still living in the same house on the road named after Great Grandpa Harry because if you do, well then you are really from here, otherwise you are still just “those new people” and will remain so for life even if your parents have lived here for almost 20 years.

Seems we live in a Township, which in BC is a “settlement too small to be considered urban.” That would mean we live in the country, but depending upon which service provider you speak with, we either live in their imaginary town boundaries, or the township it’s self. It’s confusing, and if you give them the wrong answer you don’t exist in their computers.

But little does that matter, because yesterday we finally broke through the barriers to our Muddy Boot Dreams and successfully addressed, and received a reply from the snobbish cashier at the local hardware store, it almost made us giddy. Yes she actually spoke to us, in fact she was rather loquacious. Shocking, I know, and us being newcomers of a full year only.

The times they are a changing, well at least in this town, um township.

If you just happened to live in the country, this would be nothing more than a quick walk around the rural roads. For those of us who live in the city, cutting arm fulls of evergreen branches is a little frowned upon especially if it happens to be on the neighbours property.
So you county folks, ramble on out for a scenic walk, and gather some greenery, and the rest of us who live in town, get yourselves over to a local nursery. Grab a few bundles of mixed greenery, I used pine, huckleberry, cedar, and fir, because that's what is available here. The most difficult thing for me, was finding a empty pot, for some unexplained reason there are no empty pots in my garden. Fill a garbage bag with potting soil, dampen it a little and place it in the container, putting it in upside down makes it easier to poke in the branches. Remember to cover your white plastic bag with some moss, or if you forget to get moss, then just use some smaller bits of branches like I did afterwards.

After starting with some Huckleberry branches because they are a nice shade of burgundy, then adding in the fragrant boughs of pine, I started to work in the cedar, and the fir. You can experiment with reversing branches for a different color, and texture. Add whatever you can find, red or black berries, branches, dried perennial seed pods, go wild. The birds will love you. I am planning to put some bright red balls into this arrangement for color, but you can add anything that takes your fancy.
This ended up just outside of our patio doors, a much nicer view than the pots of dirt that we used to look at all winter. Bootsie thinks that I built it especially for him to hide under while he waits for us to open the patio door.

After you have been gardening for awhile you start to accumulate gardening disasters, some are excusable, a learning curve, others just make you shake your head and wonder what you were thinking. There are a few that I am probably going to have to live with for a very long time. One of them was planting what I thought was a nice ground cover called Houttuynia. Many new gardeners mistakenly call it Hot Tuna, and it seems the name stuck, since I always refer to it as that in my head. It does smell great when you crush the leaves, which you will be doing a lot of as you vainly try to pull up each and every root. It happily takes over all territory, and it will not die.

Another “former true love” of mine, that has decided to do it’s best to repopulate the garden is Milium effusum aureum, or Bowle’s Golden Grass. And to think that I highly recommended it to so many people, I even dug it up, and gave away chunks of it. I’d hang my head in shame, except I didn’t know any better then. But like a bad boy on a motorcycle, it looks so GOOD when those chartreuse fronds are blowing seed heads everywhere. Eye catching, hot! Vroom, vrooooom.

And this baby, it may be called Austrian Violet, but I only know that I got the smallest strands wrapped in tissue from a Alberta gardener. If it can live through those winters, it can live through anything. Now it grows where ever it wants, even hanging upside down from a hole in the brick fence, how it got there, I have no idea. It’s a race to see who will take over the garden first, the Hot Tuna, the Bad Boy Grass, or the Alberta dinosaur that spreads like wildfire. So, now I have shared my shame, what are your gardening disasters? Come on, we all know that everyone has skeletons in the gardening shed, share. Jane

Winter has returned to the dark hole it hibernates in to avoid the other seasons, the snow is nearly gone.

It feels as if it was never here. Invigorated by the warm breeze, we, and I use the term we loosely, had just finished raking the entire yard. And surveyed the cleaned up brown patches flecked with emerging green with a sense of accomplishment. One item ticked off of the spring cleanup list. A hour later the wind rose up in a fury.

Gust swayed the tall Fir trees, cracking branches with a terrible bangs, blowing dust, gusting from every direction. The tidy landscape changed to a full on scattering of enormously long branches impaling the soft ground as they fell from 40 feet up. Too dangerous to stay outside we retreated inside. And watched with dismay as all of our hard work was undone.
We were out there too soon, and have to cleanup once again. We could view it as a chore, something that had to be done, reversed in a matter of hours. But in that sweet moment we were living life, the warmth of sunshine on our pale seasonal skin, air fresh in our lungs as we called out to neighbors walking by. The breeze mingling in the strands of our hair, jackets thrown to the ground, green blades of grass revealed with each raking, that moment can't be taken away from us. Laura at Simple Serene Living wrote a encouraging post about bookmarking life, living the moment as it comes. It made my heart sing, and it was a good reminder, despite our best intentions, we sometimes rush through life, missing moments when they come by. Being outside in the spring sun, that was a"bookmarked" moment that made the work worth while, despite the outcome. Do you find yourself rushing, ticking off items on your to do list, or do you tend to live each moment as it comes? I think it's truly hard to keep living in the moment, but oh, when you do…it's sublime.

PS:
My move to Word Press, and a new URL, is on the back burner for the next little while. That's OK, because thanks to Brenda at Cosy Little House, I just figured out how to resize my images properly, so I will have some time to practice. Like the spring storm, life can have a way of throwing things at you. You have to be able to move with it, stay flexible, and move forward, so that's what I'm doing here. The new URL will go live, just not this week, or maybe not the next week either. I'll make sure to let you know what to expect when we are once again, closer to that date. For now I am encouraging you to live those fleeting moments, things change rapidly in life. More PS's: Have you checked out our The Over 40 Blogging World facebook group? If you are over 40, it's a wonderful place to hang out with fellow bloggers who are supportive, and passionate about blogging. And…one last thing. My World Wednesday isn't on for this week, look for my next post on Friday, see you then.

Oh, my Mom, I love her dearly, sometimes more then other times… if you knew my Mom… You know how they always say you must love family unconditionally, [well that’s what my parents have always told us.lol.] Now I know why. She is getting older, and her filters are getting a little clogged, at first I thought it was just my family, but reading the comments from the other days post “she said what?” I am finally beginning to realize that I am not alone. Please let me digress for a moment, you have got to read this comment left by Darla on that post… ”Well my sister in law said to her Grandmother that she felt fat and ugly. Her Grandmother's reply was, you aren't fat.” Oh what a zinger… oh how bad…

We took my parents to a Dr.s appointment in the almost big city the other day, and they took us out for lunch. We were sitting in a crowed restaurant and my Mom kept peering over her shoulder at a couple of women with children running around, sitting next to us. This is not new behaviour for her, we have learned to pretend it doesn’t happen, and after all how low can you cringe in a fast food restaurant seat? My Mom tends to say things in a less then quiet voice, and if you mention that she can be overheard, she will say something charming like “what, they can’t hear me.” And I see I am not alone, quite a few other readers have the same parental issues.

Then out of the blue, my Mom leans over to the woman at the next table, and tells her that she knows her, and has seen her around lately. Then my Mom turns to me and says “she lives in the same mountain side subdivision that you do.” Awkward silence while the stranger and I eye each other up. “um hi?” “ah… hi.” “So you live in the mountainside subdivision?” “Um, yes, we just moved there.” The stranger says “we live on whatchamacall it street.” Me, “oh… we live one street over.” Where is the lightning bolt to strike you down when you need it… I feel like I am 6 years old again and being introduced to someone I am to shy to say hello to, and my Mom is behind me pushing me forward. The conversation draws to a even more awkward close, while the stranger and I pretend that our hamburgers are the most interesting thing we have seen in a decade.

Her job done, my Mom tucks into her fries with gusto. Then she turns to me and says, “See! That’s how you make friends.”

When life gives you lemons you can make lemonade which tastes wonderful, or you can use them to scent your home. This weeks Practical Pinterest is a sweet smelling one, and simple to put together. Take a few slices of lemon, a sprig of rosemary, and a teaspoon of vanilla, add about 1/2 cup of water. Simmer on the stove to delicately scent your home.

Give your home a fresh scent, the nuances of the vanilla make it smells like someone is baking, the rosemary and lemon freshen the air naturally.

It was mentioned that this is the scent that Williams and Sonoma use in their stores, but I have never been to one of their store, so I will have to take the word of the pinner. I loved the delicate waft of vanilla, and the tangy rosemary, and lemon combo.

And wouldn’t this make a lovely hostess gift, a cute bowl of lemons, vanilla, and some rosemary sprigs? Here is this weeks Practical Pinterest.

Diana from Elephants Eye mentioned to me that it looks like Microsoft might be phasing out one of my favourite blogging programs, Windows Live Writer. If you haven’t tried blogging with this user friendly program now is the time to give it a try before they take it away. Everything Blogger blogs fights you on is made so much easier with this free download, I use it everyday, and I love it and I can’t imagine not using WLW to blog with. If you use Windows Live Writer, or want to encourage Microsoft to keep it, please go to this petition and sign it. Petition for saving Windows Live Writer. We bloggers need to stick together and let MS know how we feel about taking away a program that makes blogging so much easier. When life gives you lemons, use them to scent your home.

It’s a fine line, that moment between sleep, and wakefulness. The spare seconds that your brain allows you before it starts the midnight ramblings. The two o’clock wanderings through memories, and to do lists. The four am wakeup call from Bootsie, who clearly telegraphs by scratching the carpet, I want to go out NOW! And during all this, the seagulls. Ranting, raving, screeching, roaring, squawking, shrill, strident, and the loudest continuing noise we have ever heard from them before. Something is disturbing their sleep, not that we ever thought they had time to do that, and they in turn are interrupting what little we get. Do you live near the water, by a lake, or the ocean? Have you noticed that there is very little peas and quiet where you live lately? Actually this has been going on since early winter. It’s unusual, continues all day and night, and is very noisy. Keening, and calling the seagulls are all the way up our street, loudly letting everyone know that they are under some sort of disturbance. In all the years that I have lived here, more then the fingers on three hands, it’s never been like this. Is there a population explosion?

No room at the ocean, maybe the Bed and Breakfasts are holding midnight feedings for them? And they certainly do sound like they are having indigestion, all night. “ooooohhhhh eeeeeeee, aaaaaa oooooohhhhh. Keeeeeeee, ooooohhhhh. nnnnnnnoooooooo, shouldn’t have eaten those last 5 french fries. I am thinking of taping a few hours of it, and using to deter the raccoons off of my deck.

The heck with the french fries, the seagulls, and the noise, I just want some peas, and quiet please. At least up country, all I have to deal with are the coyotes, and the magpies. Oh, and the bears, and the possums, and the mice… bliss.

Here I am writing on the Blogger platform, something I never thought I would have to do again, after finding out about Windows Live Writer, and having to use my laptop to do it.
We finally gave in after much stall…in…g, and freezing, and just general bad behaviour and purchased a new PC.
And no matter what the teckies tell you, it does take a little time to set things up.
All of my 20,000 photos are living on the external hard drive, and they might be there for a little while. It also might have been a good idea to keep track of all of the passwords before starting the set up.
So here I am, I cannot access my blog through Windows Live Writer, but I guess that's a small price to pay for the new Vroom Vroom!
Because…
Wow, is that PC fast.