Shhh … Silent Sunday. 5/26/24
Tag: Photography
Monday Moaning or Monday Marveling? 5/20/24 “Hello Hy”
MARVELING!
The incredibly aromatic blossoms of Jasmine are beginning to say their goodbyes here in historic district Savannah.
I will miss them sorely, although their stalwart greenery will stay to keep guard.
Awakening me from my sadness and reminding me that all is not forlorn, along comes Hydrangea, seemingly popping up everywhere I walk, especially this cool Monday morning.
Five Friday Happy Bringers 5/16/24
My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.
1. Reflective spoons.
See me?
2. Being married to a gay man who likes cut flowers… THROUGHOUT the house.
Today, for example …
3. The incredible gift of being able to see. To open my eyes each morning, look around and actually see! What a joy.
4. Celebrating a month, dedicated to our mental health.
And for anyone who is interested, here’s a link to my “Protocol for Anxiety.” As many folks do, I deal with Generalized Anxiety Disorder from time to time. These strategies help.
https://www.icloud.com/notes/02b2DzJouQVaWQhKKlzyDFnCw
5. Friday!
One-Word Wednesday: 5/15/24
“Yellow”
Shhh … Silent Sunday. 5/12/24
My Saturday Evening Post: 5/11/24 “Walking”
One of the joys of living in downtown historic district Savannah is that the walks NEVER get old. And are ongoingly (Is that a word?) beautiful.
The other day, Robert had a chiropractor appointment nearby, so I went with him, but then took the opportunity to walk around that particular little neighborhood.
Here’s a sampling of what I saw.
My favorite house I came across:
And look at its side yard!
And here’s a little place, still with a bit of character.
Okay, HR’s finished. Gotta go.
“The Artful Dodger“ #22
A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
So the other morning I sat down with HR to my breakfast of ham cubes (well, that’s what they look like, right?), eggs and toast.
Sleepily took a bite of toast …
… and spotted the rare GrapeJelly Splattered Scrubwren!
Sadly, birdlike, she didn’t linger on my plate very long before “flying” away.
Angeling
This morning we picked up breakfast sandwiches and coffee and headed over to Savannah’s beautiful Bonaventure Cemetery for a forenoon (Isn’t that a cool word?) picnic.
Walking afterwards, we came across her …
“What’s going on here?” I quietly asked.
(I had to repeat my question several times before she answered me.)
I had to lean in to hear her.
“Angeling is hard work.”
I simply nodded and motioned for Robert to soundlessly move along.
The Importance of Jumping
I can’t remember the last time I actually jumped.
Can you? 
And at 72, why would I jump?
Maybe a teeny, tiny “jump” when HR sneaks up behind and tickles me. But that hardly qualifies as a legitimate jump, does it?
Grandson Gabriel participated in a basketball tournament up in Atlanta this weekend.
He’s a great jumper.
Perhaps I could learn a lesson or two from G.
I set forth an intention to look for ways to jump this coming week.
Join me?
NealEnJoy 