A Dose of Sunshine on a Rainy Day!

 

 

 

This morning, it’s raining outside. Fluffy gray clouds are passing overhead unveiling patches of blue. Californians are always grateful for rain, especially because of the recent fires. Me, I’ve never liked gloomy gray. It’s my least favorite color and it’s sort of depressing. Usually however, the rain doesn’t last long, and rays of sunshine will soon be blasting down. 

Today, as luck would have it, I notice an Amazon package at my gate. I step over a few puddles to retrieve it and am delighted at the timing! Inside the wet, brown wrapper is a dear friend’s book, filled with instant sunshine!

Sunny Simon recently published a book called Life on the Sunny Side—Inspirations for Busy Women. Though I had read an eBook version, today I received the impressive paperback copy.

Oh, my goodness, this is not just some flimsy little booklet with motivational adages. This book has serious inspirational information you can begin using immediately. There are fabulous quotes throughout, from Yogi Berra or Dale Carnegie, but don’t misunderstand, it’s not simply a volume of platitudes and short little sayings. Every chapter is an example of why, and how, we should remain sunny during the tough and gloomy times.

With an extensive background in career and life coaching, Sunny tackles those unexpected challenges that take us for a loop. She takes examples from friends, her husband, colleagues, party-goers, messages in dreams and even her dog. It’s a mindful creation meant for busy people who might need to slow down and focus on the present. It’s a book I’ll return to again and again, because everything she writes is uplifting and sunny. Thanks, Sunny!

If you’re interested in a book that might change your life, click here:

New Year Image Blog

The sky above our home seems

 to be sending a variety of New Year messages,

 indicating what looks like, happiness, inspiration and peace. 

Maybe these glorified tweets or heavenly missives are meant to be shared?

DRAMATIC

RADIANCE

CALM

SPIRITUAL

MELLOW

Have you looked up lately? 

Happy Easter Anyway!

I’ve heard stories about how the crocus flower peeps through the snow.

Daffodil bulbs with an innate desire to grow.

Tulips that thrived in the cold,

withering when shipped to be sold.

Fiona spots one of our tulips

This one has blown away.

I’ve read Eliot’s poem about April being cruel,

especially noting the price of fuel.

I see the icy highways on the news,

wild seas and the unpleasant cruise.

Watched our petals take to the sky,

like butterflies waving a brief goodbye.

Though things seem bleak,

the way many speak,

we cannot mope.

We must understand this visual depiction of hope.

The promising end to winter storms,

as a time to be reborn.

Easter-time.

Ten More Days Until Spring!!

Signs of Spring

This Monday in March,

I searched for evidence.

A comforting reassurance hidden behind turbulent clouds.

The garden fairies were sure to be shivering,

But the sound of tiny wings fluttered above.

Their voices subdued,

as if humbled by the weather.

Perhaps working overtime and exhausted,

paintbrushes dry,

canvases sodden with months of rain,

they hide in the wild clover.

Stitching petals in the overgrowth,

behind evergreens and tall grass,

on the other side of the gazebo,

they create the magic.

I noticed small hints.

Wee colorful scraps,

vivid shreds,

akin to short pieces of yarn,

swept into the dustpan after crafting.

They popped out near the rosemary.

Tiny bouquets of pink,

sprouting bulbs,

a single African daisy.

Each a smile bursting from the soil;

The promised harbingers of Spring.

Physical hope,

here in my garden.

--Eve Gaal

Night Swimming

Fiona the wild rescued Chihuahua sent away the ducks but they kept coming back. They were sneaking in at night for moonlight swimming in our lap pool.

It sounds romantic but they were also not using Charmin bath tissues or even those newfangled flush-able wipes. The pool guy would clean around the gluey mess at the bottom and insist on higher fees for managing the indelicate mess. The bacteria level made it a risky swim akin to jumping in a toddler pool after lunch. And the area around the pool became dangerously slippery and downright disgusting.

 Finally, after many silly ideas such as a scarecrow which didn’t work and looked ugly, and a small toy crocodile in the shallow end that also didn’t work, because California ducks have never seen crocodiles, thus have no reason to fear them, we came up with a creative solution. We found a metal sculpture of a menacing peacock. Once painted—it looks realistic and bam—no more ducks. 

Have You Seen the Garden Fairies?

Garden Fairies in Early Spring

Eve Gaal

Mortals rarely see

               them.

(We’re too important--

 too mature.)

They swing on tall grass,

hide in tangled roots,

complex like innuendo,

jokes that fly over our heads.

They swirl in the underbrush--

painting spring--

stylishly spraying--

dipping—

creating

a catwalk of colors.

Decorating webs with glitter

pushing around windblown petals

and giggling softly in afternoon rain.

What’s more important than that?

Sit and listen.

Tear your eyes from your phone--

fold away the rustle--

pause--even the crunching of food.

Stop competing with nature.

Wait for it.

The hum of traffic will dim

There!

Have you seen them? 

Dodging under a mushroom

fluttering in a breeze

perhaps holding in transparent wings--

until we step away. 

Abundant Anniversary

The smoke alarm had to go off on our Anniversary and that’s one of those things that frighten the

collars off our dogs. And while we usually walk together hand in hand with a Chihuahua on each leash, this Columbus day and tenth day of the tenth month under what felt like tropical breezes and warm cloudy skies, I took the short walk around the block myself with Pinky.  (Someone had to change the batteries immediately.)

Pinky takes the lead

Every day, even on a short walk, there are things to see but this time I was duly rewarded with long tall shadows, flowering shrubs and hummingbirds.

The shadows fall

Crossing the street

Do you see the chirpy hummingbird?

The flag in our park

Please ignore the trash on the ground.
Non-locals like to sneak into our park and act like boars.
There's a trash can across from this bench. 

 

 Join me on this special day by having a seat in our one-acre community park where gratitude flowed from my heart as well as inspiration for a poem for my beloved I had to jot down when I reached our now peaceful home.

Happy Anniversary

Thank you Steve for coming into my life 24 years ago—

the man who changed my life.

The spring in my step when I walk our dogs—

the flowering scent along my path.

Your eyes the morning light—

your smile the California sun.

Thank you for being an angel

when I need spoiling.

Thank you for being disciplined and wise

when I need to grow up.

A warm and wonderful shoulder to cry on when I’m sad—

a solid rock of reassurance and a gift from God--

the one who broke the mold—my Steve.

Nature inspires me. How about you? 

Backyard Forecasting

Pre-El Nino?

The clouds are hiding now.

The storm is on the way.

So they say.

Plan ahead.

Those high paid meteorologists

Wearing expensive clothes--

Have warnings,

fancy maps

Doppler radar,

and serious expressions on their faces.

It’s time to prepare.

Buy umbrellas,

flood insurance.

Stock up on food,

at least make sure you have a raincoat.

Outside,

sunshine is streaming all over the place.

You grab your sunglasses and sit in the shade.

You’re out a few hundred dollars but you’re ready.

And on such a wonderful November day

You see the frantic hummingbird poke her head into the last of the blossoms—

and think it’s funny

because even without the Prime Time weather team--

She knows. 

The Supreme Web

Have you ever noticed those strange moments when you’re wondering about something and a very obvious but deconstructed answer is right in front of your face? Perhaps you’re wondering whether you should go to the party but exactly at that moment when you're thinking about what to wear or who to bring, you come to a STOP sign. Directly above the word STOP someone has carved the word NO into the sign. Would you take that as a ‘no’ don’t go to the party, or simply a coincidence?

I remember feeling anxious about a certain meeting at work and while driving my car the song ‘Take it Easy’ by the Eagles came on the radio. When I stepped into the lobby at work, the same song was playing on a completely different station. Do you think someone wanted me to take it easy? It’s kind of like a favorite cartoon where a guy is asking God for a sign and a giant neon sign falls from the sky landing in front of him. The sign says, ‘A sign”.

Then there’s the dessert menu. Try it sometime. Listen to the background music playing in the restaurant before you commit to another thousand calories. If they’re playing Queen’s, "Fat-Bottomed Girls" you might want to reconsider but if they’re playing Billy Joel’s, “Just the Way You Are,” you might as well go for it! The smart restaurateur where I ordered dessert last had ‘You Are So Beautiful" playing on the radio, so of course I indulged.

A few rows like this....

Right now, I’m wondering about a stranger’s crocheted sweater. I know how to crochet and have taken the time to learn many unusual crochet stitches but this sweater wasn’t a typical machine made crocheted sweater that you could buy and it also looked extremely difficult to make. The woman wearing the lacy cardigan could have made it or received it as a gift. This large woman, with row after row of complex stitches, sat in front of me last Sunday at church giving me an hour to ponder more than the sermon.(Which interestingly was about the multitudes sharing the five loaves and two fish.) 

The complicated stitch pattern repeated sometimes but only after approximately twenty unique rows. Her white sweater seemed to represent something to me, maybe because my insides have been feeling twisted into a tight crocheted pattern. Lately, there have been some unusual things happening in my life and if you know about my past, then you know I’m supposed to be the strong, cool-headed voice of reason. Giant knots are obstructing my goals and draining the oxygen from my heart. Give it to God everyone says. Will prayer help things unravel—in a good way? Will He help me get everything untangled and readjusted for some semblance of normalcy? I’m quite clear on the concept that the future looks difficult. It’s a rocky terrain and I’m heading uphill. Still wondering why I needed this reminder.

and some rows like this....

Am I one cloud formation away from the cuckoos’ nest 

or simply reading too much into things? Has this happened to you?

What do you think? Do you allow the universe to speak to you?

Breaking News! It's Spring!!

It’s spring and the Earth lined up with the sun 

and the moon just to tell us about it.

It’s spring and the ice floes are melting, 

except in Brooklyn.

It’s spring and Easter is around the corner 

reminding me to forgive scumbags and liars.

It’s spring and morning glories are popping out of the ground—

angel-wing shaped leaves reach for the sun.

It’s spring and that means the excuse called winter is chimney ash.

 Sober green rivers have returned to blue and clouds dissipate as I sit to write.

Where will this season take us? 

49 Shades of Gray

What do you think of when you hear about shades of gray?

Will the color gray always remind us

 of the famous, erotic book?

Is that called conditioning? Branding? Being brainwashed?

Even though I haven't read it, 

the sound of that title distracts me

from years of newsprint memories,

smudged sleeves  and 

discussions about ink saturation percentages.

 Late night press room dilemmas, deadline dramas 

and a limited spectrum, all based on black  and white.

(News photos were not printed in color until the late 80's.)

Right before a storm, this is my idea of at least 49 shades.

December

Can we return to innocence? 

January

Or is it too late?

February

Determination Incarnate

I recently attended my first critique group near my new home and immediately missed the old one in the desert. The first woman listening to my reading warmed me up with serious criticism. I’m telling not showing she said, with determination. Ouch. After reflecting on her comments, it occurred to me that I had read my new prologue and I don’t think it’s supposed to dish everything out on a silver-plated platter. In fact, some people don’t even read prologues. It is a special piece of writing that gives a tiny bit of insight into how a story unfolds or why certain things will happen, later. It is before the showing and thus it is first, so I’m not really peeved about her comments because she was right, (did you hear that Miss Creeteek?) In this case, however, I think I’m right too. Any thoughts?

Now for a poem using the word determination.

Cloud White by Eve Gaal

The empty page,

Shakes its fist

with anger and determination.

It means well,

But I turn away,

Deciding to ride my bike, bake cookies, swim some laps...

and watch some incredible cloud formations.

The novel will have to wait.


---------------------------------------------------------

I guess the ultimate question facing a novelist is: 

Is he/she DETERMINED ENOUGH?

Determined to finish-

Despite the distractions-

Despite everything.

To advertise-

To promote-

To share-

To network-

And to write sequels?

Have you done it?

Will you do it again?

Are you creating a new story right now?

Will you follow through with the research?

Do you have an editor?

How about a cover?

A platform?

A blurb?

Will you finish it?

If you're not a writer--

I'm sure you can still relate.

Are there projects sitting on a shelf, needing your attention?

Someday, you think.

Willpower? Perhaps. 

I call it determination.

Arrogant Clouds in July

Summer blew in on some high and mighty clouds.

Bringing hot air--

Mild humidity--

Soaring temperatures--

Over 100,

Still 15 to 20 degrees cooler than our previous residence.

The locals complain but I feel grateful.

Thankfulness washes over me like a waterfall.

Or perhaps it’s time to turn on the air conditioning?

Juiciest watermelons, straw hats, evening strolls under magnificent starry nights

Where the big dipper sits low and June bugs scatter,

Now that it’s July.

Are you thankful for something right now?