Lemons & Lightening Bugs

Of course I realize it’s the height of cliché, but, lemons make me crazy happy. No bother over lemonade, it’s that lemony smell that sends me. 

We’ve recently returned from the Lake at Osage Beach in Missouri, a place I haven’t visited in probably 25 years. It was there I discovered – or rather rediscovered – something else that makes me happy. Lightening bugs.

We don’t have them here in SW Florida and the moment I saw them I was right back to summer nights of long ago, to chasing those elusive flickerings in my bare feet with the hope of catching as many as I could before mom called us in for baths.

Darcie and I would put them in a jar with holes in the lid and we’d take them to bed with us. With our heads under the covers, we'd watch them and whisper to one another until one of us fell asleep. (We’d always let them go the next morning) 

I’ve recently heard that, for your mental health and well being, you should think of one thing everyday that makes you happy. Everyday!? That's 365 happy thoughts in a year and repetition is likely frowned upon (albeit happily). Is it even possible to continue on such an outlandish course year after year? The math begins to boggle the mind.

In case, like me, you find the thought of such a Pollyanna-ish task somewhat daunting, might I make a suggestion? Start with happy memories of childhood. They can, potentially, see you through at least several seasons of happy thoughts.

Oohh…here’s another one. Did you ever go to the drive-in with your mom and dad when you were a kid? Were you wearing your summer jammies?

It's Not Household Management

On the off chance anyone thinks this blog is devoted to household management, I thought I'd begin with a creation of mine now dismantled since this photograph was taken.

I know. It's a little creepy, isn't it? But, Kenny had brought home this half dress form and the thought occurred to me, "Ooohhh...I can make a 3-D, crazy quilt, sculptural sort of thing from this."

I confess I thought it was very cool at first. It wasn't until I got up in the middle of the night and it half scared me to death that I began rethinking my creativity.

And then, keep with me here, I learned of the "natural look" of the late Victorian era - the craze for decorating women's hats with toads, spiders, water beetles, whole birds and...lizards.

Just a few days later I walked by my 3-D, crazy quilt, sculptural sort of thing and saw what you yourself will see if you look carefully at the top left of the crown. That's right, it's a dead lizard who drew its last breath poised perfectly upon the hat. (Unless you live in Florida, you might not realize how common it is to find a lizard corpse in your house - or in your shoes.)

Now I'm thinking, "What a photo op!" I carefully carried the whole thing outside so I had the best light in which to catch the hollows of the poor thing's eyes.

But, half dress forms, as it turns out, are notoriously unstable in a strong breeze and the thing kept wanting to fall over.

So, picture this - I'm bent over it with my camera as my foot is attempting to keep it upright and I'm wondering how to make the lizard corpse stand out from the hat.

Should I spray shellac him so he looks shinier?

At that, I sat down and starting laughing at the absurd side-track my afternoon had taken.

I carried the thing inside, minus the lizard corpse. I put on the kettle and started dismantling my 3-D, crazy quilt, sculptural sort of thing.

There are no cobwebs here. And not a lot of household management either.