Everyone come home;
Home to our sweet Mother Earth.
She craves attention.
She nurtures us all
Gives without thought for her self
As all mothers do.
Happy Earth Day. Do something nice for our mother today.
Category: Life
Third World?
I. Third World you might say,
Or developing country
Depends on viewpoint.
II. Looking at my world
With fresh eyes and open heart
What might our guests see?
III. Our ruins are fresh
Compared with Antigua’s own;
Centuries apart.
IV. Yet ruins abound
And for many life is hard.
Poverty lays claim.
V. Third World existence
Among First World convenience
Which is most honest?
Spring is in the Air
It must be spring because…
I feel the need to clean something–anything, but preferably something that isn’t too dirty.
My allergies are more active than my bladder. (I’m a post-menopausal woman, so that’s saying a lot.)
Creative urges are tugging at my heartstrings. I picked up a knitting instruction manual, yarn, and two art prints at the farmer’s market this morning.
I’m actually going to organize at least one closet this week. Maybe.
Love is in the air. Love of napping, that is.
Golf.
Songbirds are busy competing for mates.
Studly made three trips to Lowe’s in one afternoon.
Rainy days abound.
Winter clothes get put away. Of course, in Florida that means I’ve traded my capris and tees for shorts and tanks.
Teachers begin seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Much drinking is done.
Flowers don’t bloom for us
Bird songs aren’t meant for our ears,
But isn’t it lovely that we benefit
From the beauty of nature’s ways?
How do we return the favor?
Nourishment, care, and yes,
Appreciation for the gifts we’re given.
Worrywart
Worrywart, worrywart
When will you learn?
Worry does nothing
But lead to heartburn.
Worrywart, worrywart
Will you stop, I wonder?
Perhaps someday when
I’m six feet under.
I spent quite a chunk of the past 48 hours worried that my son and daughter-in-law hadn’t made it safely home from Guatemala. They’d stayed to hike one of the volcanoes, and instead of flying home to the U.S. on Sunday with the rest of the family, they had plans to fly out on Wednesday.
The last message received was a Facebook post saying they were enjoying a final meal in Antigua on Tuesday night. Then nothing. So last night I began texting. Nothing. This morning I began calling. Nothing.
I have a vivid imagination. Women with vivid imaginations should never be left alone for too long. Here’s one of the many scenarios I imagined:
Following that final Facebook post my son was knocked senseless in trying to thwart a kidnapping attempt on his wife. The kidnappers had my daughter-in-law and had taken my son’s phone, identification, passport, and all of his money. When he awakened he had amnesia and was wandering around Antigua begging for spare change.
I called the airline and learned that the couple had boarded their flight. Of course then I wondered if perhaps someone had stolen their passports and flown home in their stead.
There was no rest for me until my daughter-in-law’s sister sent a message saying the couple had returned and were thoroughly buried under piles of makeup work.
Now my imagination is working on ways to torture my son for not getting in contact with me. Let’s see, thumb screws ought to do the trick.
Peace, People
Back to Work Tomorrow
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!
That is all.
There’s nothing like letting a bunch of memes do the talking for me.
Peace, People.
Ode to Bed
Oh my bed, you dearest place
You cradle me with skill and grace.
How sad I am to leave your charms
When my clock sounds strident alarms.
Please let me be with you all day
For sound asleep I’ll gladly stay.
Safely within your covers wrapped
I have the perfect day all mapped.
Sleep ’til noon, and then I’ll wake
To eat a bite for my health’s sake.
Then back to you for afternoon’s rest
Snuggled deep in blanket’s nest.
Awaken to read a chapter or four
When my eyes droop I’ll sleep some more.
By evening I’ll be fresh as a daisy
Having spent my day being oh so lazy.
Oh bed how sad that we must now part
Just know you’ve a special place in my heart.
Peace, People.
Wedding at Hobbitenango
Those who read my blog posts on a regular basis (God bless you faithful few) know that I’ve been in Antigua, Guatemala, these past few days to celebrate the marriage of my beautiful niece Hanna and her handsome beau, Beto.
On Friday, April 11, family, friends, and a handful of complete strangers joined Beto and Hanna on a mountain far above Antigua for one of the most joyous occasions I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness.
The bride. 😊 Her dad is the proud-looking man just behind Hanna.
Cutting the wedding cake never looked quite so romantic before.
Mother of the bride, Hanna, Father of the bride and lovely niece Lauren. 
My gorgeous niece, Claire, sister of the bride.
This is me standing in the doorway of Hobbitenango.
Hobbitenango is a tavern and hostel owned by my new nephew and his business partners. The buildings that make up Hobbitenango are all Eco-friendly, made from reclaimed lumber, plastic bottles, and egg cartons.
Still in its early phases of development, Hobbitenango will one day have individual hobbit style houses for guests to rent, and once the shire is complete they’ve planned to create an Ewok village.
I urged them to hurry–I’m not getting any younger.
Niece Lauren and my sister-in-law, Susan.
Delightful Andrea, (one of Beto’s cousins) with her mother. I’ve never met more loving, welcoming people.
The rest I didn’t caption. I’ve run out of superlatives.
Hobbitenango is ringed by four volcanoes. Just at sunset, Fuego, put on a small show for those of us remaining. Of course, my battery was dead, so I had to borrow a photo from my brother’s camera.
Needless to say it was a sight I will not soon, if ever, forget.
Peace, People!
Mercado en Antigua
Pictures do not completely capture the excitement and color of market day. A thousand words are inadequate. I needed much more than five senses to take in all of the sights, scents, and sounds of the Market. 
One of the first images was of fresh vegetables and fruits of every hue.
The grains, dried peppers, and spices put on their own colorful show as if in competition with the veggies. I’m not sure there was a clear cut winner.
Try this technique next time you go shopping.
I loved the pottery angels and the shiny buckets. See, I notice some things that aren’t edible.
My favorite photo of the day. I asked permission to take this woman’s picture, and when she said yes, I told her in Spanish that I thought she was beautiful. She covered her mouth with her hand and smiled like a teenaged girl.
Just a woman and her rooster.
We didn’t even make it to the textiles area. Hopefully we can stop by on Sunday for more of this wonderland.
Peace, People!
Courtyard
Why don’t all homes have small courtyards–
private outdoor/indoor spaces to enjoy the insistent (and sometimes raucous) noises of the waking-up world?
Songbird
Sleeping with wide open windows
In La Antigua de Guatemala
Night murmurs offer lullabies.
Alarm clocks are unnecessary.
Songbirds, first one, then a
Chorus begin telling the
Stories of their lives.
The shrill one is my avian
Doppelgänger, repeating
Her story ad nauseum.
Occasionally, though, she
Touches my heart, punctuating
Her song with, “please see me?”
Praying for Eyebrowz 