Throughout that rainy afternoon
and into the evening, 
I went over the
mental pictures of the man
andthe umbrella. ​
I believed I would never
lay eyes on him again.

As I said my evening prayers,
​I added with great sincerity,

"Dear Heavenly Father,
in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ,
when I grow up,
PLEASE 
send me a husband just exactly
​like that man."  






A gawky twelve year old, already towering over all my classmates and growing taller
by the minute, I was very uncomfortable in my body. Other girls, women on the streets
and fashion magazines all looked like they were put together nicely,
while slacks and shirts were forever becoming too short for my long limbs. 

I had serious misgivings that there could be any husband, { ever ... at all, ! },
in my future and decided to pester God with my earnest request on a daily basis.
It would certainly  take a miracle. 
In fact, I consistently petitioned God for two years, until, one evening,
in hopeless exhaustion, I told God,

"I won't be asking You for this anymore. Whatever Your will for my life is, so be it."  

It was a great relief to let go of this issue and concentrate on things I  thought I could do
something about; swimming, singing and school.  Despite my drive to excel, a few years later,
during a Junior Olympics competition, I was hospitalized with a life threatening illness that
warranted immediate surgery and consequently became bed ridden for what seemed an eternity.

Schoolmates visited regularly to bring homework and I kept up with my studies.
For many, many months, I watched the world go by from my bedroom window. 
The neighbors definitely had their schedules and I came to know the hour by their activities.  

Most every afternoon, I heard a Harley approaching.  In secret, I watched the man,
foreboding in his gear, as he maneuvered the giant red bike to its spot.
His actions were always the same; climb off bike, remove helmet, tuck helmet under left arm,
run fingers once or twice through hair, look around, light a cigarette and enter a nearby building. 
An hour or so later, the distinct sound of the Harley's engine clued me that he was leaving. 
I innocently wondered, without resolve, what he might be up to.

Eventually I became well enough to return for the last few weeks of my Junior year of High School.
My girlfriends and I walked to and from school together. It was a happy, fun time for me. 
We often spotted the Motorcycle Man on our way home and dared each other to say hello.
Of course, not one of us had the guts.  We were convinced he was a Hell's Angel and certain trouble. 
College was prevalent in our minds and we giggled and chattered about possibilities,
knowing that our little group would soon split up forever.

TO  BE  CONTINUED...

My best friend was a Tom Cat
named Poochoo
when I was twelve.

Our souls were in tune
with each other and
when our family moved
that summer,  both of us
were a little mixed up
for awhile.








My older sister and I pounced at our freedom the afternoon our Mother released us from moving duties. We had traded one neighborhood in the City for another and were happy to go window shopping in familiar territory.  Our escape lasted one short block when black clouds unexpectedly took over with a thunder clap and a gusher of rain.


GiGi confidently looked at me as if to say, "No problem !", and proudly reached into her handbag to produce an item no one in NYC yet had, a pocket umbrella, which she had received as a special birthday present from a relative overseas.

As she opened it, we heard a man's desperate call to us,
"Girls, Girls !"

Under the stairway canopy of the corner Diner, stood the finest specimen of a man I had ever seen, wearing a cream suit, shiny black shoes and black shirt.
Even Rhett Butler, whom I was secretly in love with, suddenly paled in comparison.
It appeared as if a light was glowing only on him.
As corny as it sounds, I heard a chorus of angels all around him.
Yes, I was a hopeless preteen romantic.

I noticed his impish smile and gentle eyes as he continued,
"Would you share your umbrella with me ?
I'm late for a party and my car is parked just around the corner."

Well, if you're at all familiar with these umbrellas, you'll know they're quite small and fitting three
under one is impossible, unless one of you really is a cat.  Of course, I got bumped into
the drenching rain. After all, it wasn't my umbrella.  No matter, I was content
to walk a few steps behind and continued admiring the view.

The man had been honest about his car's location and thanked us as he unlocked the door and got in.

Now dripping wet from head to toe, my hair in strings around my face and
feet squeaking in soggy shoes, I gleefully chimed,
"Oh, that man was  SO  beautiful !  The  MOST  beautiful man I  EVER  saw ! 
When I grow up, I want to marry a man  EXACTLY  like that one !"

Playing mother, as older sisters sometimes do, and disgusted that our freedom
was to be short lived, GiGi scolded,
" Don't be ridiculous. That man never even noticed you, nor asked you your name !
Just look at you ! You're sopping ! We have to go home now !"

TO  BE  CONTINUED...

It was the perfect day for the Callicoon Farmer's Market in NY, which is open from 11:00 A.M.  til  2:00 P.M. every Sunday until November 25 th.

These gorgeous locally grown peaches were decadently delicious. They dripped with juice and filled the summer day  with a heavenly scent.

Callicoon is a tiny historic town located on the bank of the Delaware River, surrounded by the rolling lush green Catskill Mountains.  It was first settled by the Dutch in the 1600's who named it "Kollikoonkill", which means "wild turkey creek". 

The area remains abundant with wildlife, although the Elk are gone and the Mountain Cats are rare to see.  There still are black bear, wolves, coyotes, fox, deer, eagle, wild turkey, racoons, opossum, rabbits and who knows, maybe even Big Foot...
or was the beast  I once saw just a Local...
perhaps playing pranks ?

I suppose that's why I keep the camera handy. 

This time I snapped a few pictures at the Callicoon Farmer's Market to give you a tour of some things that were offered.

SCROLL  DOWN  TO  SEE  THE  SLIDESHOW


There were a ton of different kinds of Tomatoes, including Heirlooms and yellow and orange Cherries.  By the way, if you've never had the Yellow Cherry Tomatoes, you really must try them !
They're as sweet as candy.  Indigenous and prolific in this region, they are the tomatoes
local American Indians harvested several hundred years ago
before settlers brought in other varieties.

The Market also had beautiful fresh cut flowers from ARK FLORALS of Mt. Vision, NY, owned and run by a very knowledgeable Meg Kennedy and her family, at super reasonable prices.

Bill and Barbara Walsh displayed their handcrafted Cherry and Pine crafts.  I especially loved their cheese spreaders and boards, which would make a very fine hostess gift.  Visit their online store
at  wwbc.etsy.com  and see what other goodies they have in my slideshow below.

Other Vendors included Bakers, Goat Soap Makers, Local Honey, Local Maple Syrup, Fresh Lamb meats, knit Lamb's wool products, fresh Jellies, Jams, Condiments, Fresh Herbs and the like.

Not part of the Farmer's Market, but associated with one of the many Callicoon shops a few steps away,
I came across Pam Sloan of RUSH SEATS,{ [email protected] }, who was busily working
on an antique chair. She beautifully repairs with caning, rush or upholstery.

If you'd like a list of all the  vendors, visit  www.sullivancountyfarmersmarkets.org

On this gorgeous August day, the lily pads that have frustrated my friend's lake, are glowing with life.
The patches of water vibrantly  reflect the blue sky, reminiscent of a Monet painting.
Like a healing balm, they exude a deep inner state of quietness within, bringing to mind a favorite quote that more deeply penetrates the soul:

"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."  John 14:27

When I allow these words to fill my mind, tension and worry leave and a powerful sense of healing spreads over me.  May it do the same for you and fill our world with the greatest peace of all.

If you're a dog owner and a dog lover, then you've certainly checked out the lengthy and weird ingredient list on containers of dog treats.  You've also paid a small fortune for these questionable edibles, many of which are packaged here in the USA, but are created overseas in places where standards are not high; like China.  What are you actually feeding your beloved pooch ?  Will your devoted pet fall victim to poisoning while you're getting ripped off ?

When I bought my cute pup at a yard sale a dozen years ago, I never planned on having to make my own Dog Treats, and eventually, my own Dog Food !  Her mother was a purebred Chow and her father,  a purebred Dalmatian.  She looked like a black bear cub and I simply fell in love.

Thank God  for the nasty white stuff we call snow that first winter of Miss Abbey's life !  When she urinated blood, I ran to a fabulous Vet  who discovered she was suffering from food allergies.

I quickly learned that Dalmatians need to be fed a different diet than the average dog.  Their ability to process proteins apparently has been hindered by a great many years of domestication.  Chicken was the greatest culprit for her and I had to find an easy solution using healthy ingredients that didn't include chicken lips,{ OH NO !!! }.

Here's just one of my many tasty and nutritious Homemade Dog Biscuit recipes that I have made hundreds of times.  It's very easy, quick and  inexpensive.  I hope you try it some evening while you're watching TV.  Your dog, { like mine did }, will look at you in astonishment once he/she realizes you were making this especially for them and declare, "Wow ! You weally do wuv me !" 

This Alberta Spruce tree was planted too close to the house. Alberta Spruces develop very long tap roots, which makes transplanting very risky once it has been established. There's  great danger of killing this otherwise healthy and happy six year old tree if the root is even slightly damaged.

Its location was a clear indication that spiraling the tree would add interest and create a tidy look to the back entrance of this house.  The decision was made, but timing is crucial to plant life.  Pruning at the wrong month can be as bad as pruning on the wrong day. It's always wisest to check The Farmer's Almanac Calendar,{http://www.farmersalmanac.com/calendar/}, for your specific area in the USA before making any drastic changes to your beloved plants.

The best time to shape an Alberta Spruce is the early spring, just a few days after the new tips have dropped their papery brown protective coatings.  One can also wait until the new growth has reached about an inch long. 

Be certain the weather temperature is no hotter than 78 degrees and that no severe heat is expected for about a week.  Also be certain that the tree has recently gotten sufficient water.  This will ensure that the cut tips of your tree will stay green and not turn brown with stress.

You'll need a nice sharp pair of household scissors, { preferably ones with a ten inch blade }, a pair of  hand bypass pruning clippers,{ with a curved blade }, and a ball of string or ribbon long enough to assist in marking exactly where to cut.

You'll also need to enter that quiet, peaceful, confident place within yourself as you work.  One wrong cut and the entire spiral design can  be ruined...and then what ?!?  OY !!!

The string or ribbon is intended to be your cutting guide. It's best to begin at the bottom of the tree. Gently begin laying  your ribbon or string on top of the foliage where you feel the spiral should begin.  Slowly, thoughtfully and methodically continue to wrap the string loosely  until you have reached a few inches from the top.

Now, turn your back and step several feet away from your wrapped tree.  How does it look ?  You'll probably notice the string line will need adjusting.  Aren't you glad you wrapped loosely ?

Keep in mind that your cut line will be much wider than your string.  In fact, your cut line should be at least as wide as the width of your wrist or lower arm, which  will be at least three inches wide.

Return to your tree and make string adjustments until your eye at a distance is pleased.

Now you'll have to explore the trunk of your tree and discover how the branches grow out from it.  Gently insert your hands and part the foliage to view what can be successfully cut away.  Use your string as a guide to decide exactly what and where to cut. 

Use the clippers and the scissors alternately as needed and begin to cut away, being certain to check your guidelines often as you work your way up the tree.  You'll have to constantly readjust your string and constantly step away and check your angles before you cut.

Once your basic shape has emerged, use the sharp scissors to carve nice curves into the foliage. 
Voila !  You're  done ! 

Science has proven that even your Alberta Spruce wants to be loved, and will be healthier if it is !
So, remember to tell your tree how beautiful she looks with a new haircut ! 

Next Spring, get out the sharp scissors and carefully snip away for Alberta to keep her shape and be an enjoyment  for decades to come !