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Photo Wishes

Rolling into the New Year

rolling conveyor belt

I wish you blessings

antique angel statue

May you never be blue

antique chair

But always find love

signs

Find time to reflect

Fly to the top of your class

And at the end of the day, remember to have fun

all rights reserved © Diane Kern 2012

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Moving-I hate it

Moving-I hate it. Well maybe that is a little strong. I don’t enjoy the process for sure. But I do enjoy being in a new place, getting to know a new neighborhood. The last week of December is not the best time to move being as busy as it is. I have had extra shifts at work, which I do love. That left very little time for packing.

It’s amazing what you can accumulate in a year and a half. I moved here with what would fit in my car and then shipped a few boxes later. No more. I had to rent a truck. I’ve pressed a couple of friends into service to help me. (I will have to do something extra nice for them) Wanting to make it easier for them I moved the majority of my belongings down to our lobby to speed the process.

After tomorrow’s major move there will still be things  that I don’t want to pack in the truck. So I will be back and forth for a couple of days, taking care of the precious items. All the while I will be working at Benaroya in the evenings. And I have early call, so the moving day will be short.

And then the process of finding the right place for eveything begins. I spent the day there today putting together my bed frame and building and attaching my new headboard. Glad I got that part out of the way. Where should I put my new comfy chair? How should I set up my office? I never feel at home until my artwork is on the walls. It is usually the first thing I do before starting to unpack. What makes you feel at home when you move?

It better not be raining tomorrow!

all rights reserved © Diane Kern 2011

The three Buds…they were fixtures in my neighborhood for several years. I lived in an “Our Town” kind of place where people sat on their porch in the evenings and waved hello to neighbors passing by. When a new family came to town there was a visitor with cookies or cake at the front door the next day. So it wasn’t unusual to see the same people on a regular basis. Three of those people were named Bud. Not really their proper name but the one they were known by none-the-less.

victorian houseBud # 1 we called- Bud who Walked. Everyday like clockwork he would walk briskly past our house. Always friendly, but he seldom had time to stop and talk. He was on a mission.  All of a sudden we stopped seeing him. It was several months gone by before we found out he had suffered a heart attack. Not knowing his last name or exactly where he lived we couldn’t visit to wish him well. Then one day here he came again. He was really on a mission now to stay healthy and take advantage of his second chance. Only now he had a little more time to stop and chat once in a while.

mudBud #2 we called Bud in Mud. He was the husband of a voice teacher at the college where we were on the faculty. We often saw him at concerts and arts events with his wife. He also wrote a column of musings for the local paper. He was an excellent, insightful writer that could put an interesting turn on any subject. He got his name from one of those columns. I wish I had a copy of it now as I don’t remember the details anymore. Of course the subject was mud and I remember laughing loud and long everytime I read it. Which I did over and over. He developed Parkinson’s and stopped appearing in public and eventually stopped writing as well shortly before he passed.

Bud #3 was Bud Next Door. He was our neighbor and a very interesting one as well. An antiques collector, bed and breakfast owner, important in the development of the Marshall Plan and instrumental in NASA.  He was a charming man with whom we shared a love of music. We used to sing Christmas carols in German together, Oh Tannenbaum and Stille Nacht in particular.  He eventually sold his beautiful Victorian home when it became too much to handle and moved to a small apartment. We no longer saw each other as frequently but we reconnected near the end. When he was in the hospital I would visit and once again we sang German carols. I was there when he transitioned.

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

sunset

all rights reserved © Diane Kern 2011

 

When you shine with the light of happiness,

you illuminate everyone.

 

Peace, love, and joy to all.

 

 

 

 

 

all rights reserved © Diane Kern 2011 

 

Red and Green Christmas Tree LightsThe apartment across the way has a mini Christmas tree on their window sill. The lights twinkle day and night. Their balcony railing is decorated with lights, red, green and blue. It is very pretty. But very confusing.

Huh?

You hear the beat of their wings before you see them. Darting back and forth from flower to flower, feeding on the sweet nectar. You hear them in the trees and bushes talking and scolding each other. Their voices are much too large for their little bodies. You can’t find them no matter how hard you look because they are so small they are concealed by the tiniest branches.

evergreen with lights

What are they doing here in December? They should have migrated south where they can find blooms and sunshine. How do they stay warm? People feed them all summer to attract them to their gardens and window sills. But now when it is cold and rainy and inconvenient the feeders come in, just when they could use the extra help.

What is a hummingbird to do?

I was looking out my window today and I saw one of the poor creatures hovering around my neighbor’s window. It thought the little holiday tree had something special to eat. When it had no luck there, it moved on to the balcony rail. It stopped at every red light, all down the row. It must have felt bamboozled not to find any nectar.

hovering hummingbird

If you are going to feed the birds make it an all year proposition. Don’t be a fair weather friend.

If you liked this, please visit Suspended Soul for more.

all rights reserved © Diane Kern 2011

Here is a little joy for you, to feed your soul. The Peacherine Rag.

In order to make an omlette you have to crack some eggs.

Which came first?

eggs

Egg

or

chicken

Chicken

Just wondering?

Do you know any chicken and egg jokes?