Category: My Daughter

The Extra Mile

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Walking to a neighbors house, I saw another neighbor who asked, “Walking down to the lake?” I replied, “No sir, I’m going to get fresh eggs.” He looked rather puzzled and replied, “You need a golf cart to scoot around in. It’s easier.” I just ginned and said, “But Dan, I don’t do easy.” He chuckled.

My daughter brought home flowers and it was the most magical bouquet I’d seen in years. They were freshly cut, wrapped in brown paper and when she handed them to me I could feel the weight of them. There was a florist card laying inside I didn’t recognize, so she went on to reveal the whole story.

She had stopped at the market I frequent for flowers, but didn’t see anything that spoke to her, so on she went to a flower shop she knew I loved. The lady inside told her to walk into the cooler and pick out what she wanted. I can imagine the look on my daughters face walking into a cooler filled with flowers. I’m sure it was overwhelming in the most delightful way.

She chose a few of my utmost favorites. A couple of long-stemmed roses, daylilies, a few gladiolas, and the most ginormous hydrangea blossom known to man. She remembered I like greenery to be used as filler.

She was holding a paper bag from the market as well with chocolate cold brew and Brie en Croute. You see, she just wanted to stop time that day amidst our schedules and celebrate her sober Mom. It was my AA birthday, and I don’t very cry often, but with all of this the tears were near.

I’m sure there’s a much easier way to buy flowers, but my darling, fill it with meaning and go the extra mile.

Missing the Wave

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Scrupulous. Intentional. Breathing in moments.

That’s how I envisioned last week would be. Daily life landed me far from the mark, and I missed some moments. One moment in particular hurt my heart a little bit, but sometimes that’s what it takes to snag my attention.

I was working in the yard moving plants as my daughter walked out of the house toward her Jeep. I walk up alongside her, give her a hug, and as she backs out, I stroll over to the pathway of stepping stones in the middle of the yard and wait for her to drive by. Except that day, I had a shovel in my hand and was moving one more plant.

This is something new we began doing this year, and it’s become ritual.

Normally, I stand on the path, wait for her to drive by and give her this wave filled with exuberance, like Miss America after drinking way too much coffee. She waves too, but that day when she drove by, I was in the side yard, so I missed the wave. It’s difficult to know how important something is until it’s missed.

A few days later she was leaving the house and we stepped through our leaving ritual. I suggested when she reached the end of the driveway to turn in the opposite direction and drive by the house one lot over that had been beautifully repainted. She sat there a moment and said, “But if I go that way, I’ll miss the wave.”

I smiled and on que began walking toward the middle of the yard to the path. This time, there was no missing the wave.

There once was a guy who named his dog, ‘Stay.’ When he called him to come the poor dog heard, “Come here, Stay.”

To Be Seen

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“It’s better to be seen than viewed”, said the cashier at the gas station. That phrase has stuck with me for almost a year. We were just making small talk, and then those words fell out of his mouth as I headed toward the door.

The people who walk through our lives are important, and we need to pay attention to who steps in and what they say because most have a message.

When we first moved here, there weren’t many people walking this neighborhood. There was the occasional runner, or someone would zoom by on a bicycle, but no one just strolling the streets. A year ago I began a simple habit of walking to the end of the street as a friendly presence in the neighborhood. I’ve met a good many neighbors and been doing this for long enough now, when they see me coming they stop and talk.

The time or day doesn’t matter so much as the doing.

This is not considered exercise. I literally step outside in whatever I’m wearing and stroll the nearby streets. My daughter got tickled at me one day when I walked out the door and forgot to leave my glasses at home. I was wrapped up in my favorite cardigan and my glasses were still sitting atop my head as we strolled, but it didn’t bother me because I want to be seen for who I am.

A writer.

To be a writer, you need to release your words. To be a good neighbor, you need to keep them.

An excerpt from the book.

I enjoyed all of your fun comments on my previous post Embracing the New. Here’s a couple of photos I shared in my Fearless community taken with my new phone. I wanted to capture the tiny detail of the yellow flower blooming, and it did that, but it also but picked up every vein in the leaves. I love how the pot sitting below is blurry like it’s not supposed to be the focus.

Focused on the details.
The bigger picture.

We do not see our size. We do not view ourselves with accuracy. We are far larger, far more marvelous, far more deeply and consistently creative than we recognize or know.

Pg. 48 of ‘A Right to Write’, by Julia Cameron.

Here’s to showing up in true form and allowing ourselves to be seen. Much love-Barb.

https://simplysemloh.wordpress.com/

Footprints

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We didn’t allow the snow and ice to hinder us from taking a walk. After the first fallen snow, it was light powder and easy to walk through, but then a fine layer of ice fell on top. That made it a little more challenging, but where there’s a will, there’s also a way.

Photography by Simply Semloh

You have to stomp your foot through the icy layer, to get down to the powdery snow. There your footing will hold, and not slip. Here we were, stomping our way through the neighborhood, and it was invigorating to say the least, at an outdoor temp of 18 degrees.

We made a trail of footprints. Some were on the road, but most were through the edge of the neighbors yards. The road had turned into a solid sheet of ice, so we had to make our own path off the road. The next day, I went for a walk alone, but found myself following the path we had taken the day before. Even though the snow was melting away, I could still see some of our footprints and it made me think.

What kind of footprint do I really want to leave for these neighbors? Not just a snowy one alongside their yard, but a footprint in their life. My thoughts expanded to what kind of footprint do I want to leave on this world? Thanks to the snow/ice storm that shut down Texas, I’m pondering footprints.

Love and Light

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Today is her birthday and she turned 21.

She’s not here though. She’s in England.

It’s an odd feeling for both of us. We were texting the other night about her turning 21, and she said, “I wish I were five.” Well, my darling. I remember five, and wondered if I’d do anything different? Then she said, “We have a beautiful life.”

bayandmomo
Here she is at 5 years old.

She is the reason I started this Blog.

Just because I’m  taking a break from Blogging, doesn’t mean I cannot celebrate this day with you. The meaningful work-To serve the people I care about by writing another chapter. Let’s write more chapters.

One of my favorite pictures of us was right after we moved into our first home together. It was a tiny house situated on 40 acres of land. I kept her hook baited, while she fished from the pier. That pier is where I stood with God every morning before dawn. That was also the house that taught us how to kill scorpions.

We were walking to the truck, and you grabbed me for a selfie. We weren’t wearing any makeup, and I had forgotten to use eye drops that morning, but it was a moment. Even blurry-eyed, we have that ‘deep in your heart’ happiness. Our life felt groundless, as the only thing we knew we had was God, and He has us.

2014
March 2014

We’ve had chickens, kittens, dogs, and a baby duck live with us. You think it’s normal to hang a disco ball in an old oak tree. When we decided to move, I had to leave it there because it was infested with ants, but you bought a new one for here.

The light from the disco ball dances across the kitchen table where you sit, but today even though your chair is empty, the light is still there. Our life is made of love and light.

I’m here to wish you a spectacular birthday! It’s a new chapter and you’re holding the pen. Touch it to the paper my darling, and make it what you want. Feel and see the love and light.

theworld

On My Own

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My daughter is out of town this week.

I’m trying to take care of myself without her. She’s in charge of protein shakes, and I’m coffee. This morning I had to make the protein shake by using the Ninja, on my own.

The Ninja blender is the best blender I’ve ever used. You could drop in an iceberg, and it would emulsify it. I nearly sliced my finger off the first time I cleaned it, so it’s had my respect ever since!

But, I did it. I began my day with protein, and then moved onto Chemex. She’ll be proud.

My daughter reads instructions. I’m a dedicated instruction reader when it comes to putting things together, and how to properly use machinery, but somewhere along life’s journey I stopped.

When my daughter is here she makes the shake, and I clean the blender, but I know better than to get anywhere near it’s blades.

I thought I was so smart squirting dish-washing liquid in, filling it with warm water, and turning it back on, like making a shake, but with bubbles.

After it runs for a while, simply rinse it, take it apart, and let it dry.

Ninjaclean

My daughter said, “Yes ma’am. That’s how you’re supposed to clean it. I read it in the instructions.”

I need to go back to reading the instructions. 😀

Google Can’t Laugh

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I bought the most obnoxious wreath. I had to warn my daughter that my crazy was unleashed and sent her this picture.

wreath

She’s in England and I was going to let it surprise her when she walked up to the front door, but couldn’t resist sharing it.

Today, I’m not sure when she’s coming home. Her flight from England was canceled. I have to let it go and lay it at His feet. God has a plan, I just can’t see it yet.

She messaged me this morning and asked if I was okay. Of course I am, but I told her, “Google doesn’t laugh with me.” (We have a Google Home Mini) My daughter has the app on her phone and she loves reading my history of what I’ve asked. Now, I’m wondering what all I’ve asked! 😂

About a week ago, the power went out. I found myself saying, “Hey Google? Is there a wreck nearby?” My daughter just screamed out laughing. We both did. FYI…If the power goes out, little Google Home dies. I’m still laughing while typing this.

crazy

We laugh all the time. It’s not something we try to do, it’s just part of living this life together. It’s fun! When I asked Google, “Hey Google? Can you laugh?”, it said, “Sorry. I haven’t learned that yet.”

Poor Google. You need to learn to laugh.

Dear Team at Google. Google can’t laugh.