Wyoming Winters

Winters in Indiana are very different from winters in Wyoming. Wyoming winters are very long, cold, and windy while Indiana’s are only about 3months long at the most, they have very little snow and the temperatures seldom dip down to single digits or zero. So everyone would think that a person would prefer to winter in Indiana but I find that for me the opposite is true. It isn’t that I love to be cold, I don’t, that I love deep snow, most days that isn’t true either and the winter winds of Wyoming can cut straight through to your bones. So why do I prefer the Wyoming winters? Because of the sun! I have seen the temperatures in Wyoming dip to 20-30 below zero and the sun was still shinning. The snow can be three foot deep on the level and the sun will make it look like three foot piles of diamonds. The sky is blue and the sun shines and somehow you forget that you are freezing and you just look at the magic of the picture that nature has painted for you. And it is even better if you don’t have to go out to work that day. I have friends that tease me about my comments about the blue skies of Wyoming and they swear the sky is just as blue in Indiana but unless you have spent a winter in Wyoming you really can’t compare the beauty of it to other places. Indiana has many great seasons. Its spring and fall are breath taking. The forsythias and crocuses welcome the season long before Wyoming can even consider spring and they are followed by the unmatchable show put on by the dogwoods and redbuds. As much as I love the spring in Indiana, I have never been able to decide whether I like the spring better or the fall. Because in the fall the trees and bushes put on an unbelievable show of color and texture that makes you want to just sit outside and admire the beautiful of God’s creation. And the great thing is many of the bugs have died or left so you are able to. So I am not trying to insult the great state of Indiana by any means. I have lived here for over twenty years and in many ways this place is my home but in the winter I long for my Wyoming home and the blue skies and sunshine that paints an unforgettable picture even though it is set against a backdrop so frigid that you think will die from the cold. Then again in summer I long for Wyoming not because of its beauty because much of the state is dry by summer and more brown than green but I have never been a fan of humidity and Indiana summers has lots of it while Wyoming has none. You would think that as a gardener I would want to stay in the long hot summers of Indiana but my asthma makes breathing much more desirable than gardening when the humidity rises and contrary to what many believe you can grow a pretty great garden in Indiana in the spring and early summer, one in Wyoming in mid summer and then another in Indiana in the late summer. So it really could work for me. Un fortunately, I’m not a rich or retired person so I will live my year in one place except for the occasional trip to visit another so Indiana will be my home of choice, after all anyone that knows me knows that I would never consider leaving my grandchildren to travel half away across the continent from them. So during the winter months I will close my eyes and dream of the Wyoming winters while sitting under a full spectrum lamp to keep the winter blues away.

Learning to dream again

I was reading a little book yesterday that I found at a used book store. It is titled, Living Out Loud by Keri Smith. It is a book about how to “fuel a creative life” It talked about living the life you always wanted by thinking about what you played as a child to discover what brings you true joy and passion and then reconnect to that energy. It was filled with games and activities to help get you in touch with your creative side.

I thought about that and I wondered when it is that we decide to quit playing. Does our life get too busy or do we just decide it is a waste of time or too juvenile to be important. I’m sure some people would say I never quit playing. I still love to color, paint and draw with chalk on the sidewalk. I sing and dance and blow bubbles on my front porch and hang prisms in my windows that face south so they will paint rainbows on the walls. But somewhere along the way I stopped dreaming. I became “realistic” in my thinking. I started listening to the people that told me that life is serious and we need to be responsible and dependable so there isn’t time for foolishness and unrealistic hopes.

I first realized this when I read an article about writing a bucket list and again when I read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I suddenly realized that I couldn’t think of my dreams or what I was passionate about. Dreaming just seemed empty and unfamiliar to me and as I wrote things down on my bucket list I felt that I was simply making them up to have something to write. I mean there are things that I like to do or I might even go so far as to say I love them; singing, gardening, cooking, dancing and playing with my grandsons. But to come up with what I wanted to do before I died I felt at a loss. I heard once the St. Francis of Assisi was asked while he was playing ball, “What would you do if you knew you were going to die this week?” And he responded, “I would keep on playing ball.” When the story was told to me it was to emphasize the need to be prepared to meet your maker but if someone asked me that today I would have to say I would keep doing what I’m doing because I can’t think of anything else to do. Oh, I might tell them I would quit my job and spend more time with my family and more time in my garden but I don’t feel a great need to accomplish things that I’ve neglected. Maybe that is okay. Maybe it says that I am happy with my life, content with the place I’m in. So for today at least, I will keep on doing what I’m doing and I will try to be more aware of how blessed I am to have a life that makes me happy, a family that truly loves me and a job that brings me fulfillment. But I’m still going to do the games and activities to try Living Out Loud.

rainbows and bubbles

Ever since I first saw the movie Pollyanna I've wanted to take the prisms off of a chandelier and hang them in a window to paint rainbows on the wall. So finally at the age of 50 I asked my husband to put cup hooks in the south facing windows of my house and I hung inexpensive prisms or all different shapes and sizes off the hooks. I started the project with my oldest grandson when he was 4 and we would count to see how many rainbows we could paint on the walls of the living room and dining room at one time. I loved to watch the rainbows dance across the wall when I ran my hand down the row of prisms. And when I’d wake up and see the sun shining I’d tell my grandson, “It is going to be a rainbow day.” My mother-in-law also loved the rainbow game and although she only had a few prisms in her living window my daughters still remember fondly the rainbows they painted on her wall. I’m not sure what the infatuation is, maybe it is the dreams of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or maybe it is merely the blending of the beautiful colors but whatever it is I will continue to paint the rainbows on my wall with as many prisms as I can find.

I have a similar fascination with bubbles. I keep a bucket on my front porch filled with a variety of bubble blowers and bubble soap. My grandson and I often spend our summer afternoons out on the porch blowing bubbles or taking turns blowing bubbles while the other one pops them using a water gun. It is a wonderful way to spend a lazy afternoon and it is great stress relief. How can you not smile as you watch bubbles float gently up and up until they are out of sight.

My grandson is nine now and he has less time for bubbles and rainbows because he is busy with sports and computer games. But every now and then he will come into the house and say, “Hey Grandma, it is a rainbow day.” Or he will suggest why don’t we go outside and blow some bubbles for Henry, his younger brother. And then I know he hasn't forgotten the games or the hours of fun.

I know that the day will come, all too soon I fear, when all my grandsons will think they are too old for bubble blowing and rainbow making and then I will have to play my rainbow, bubble games alone but for now I will enjoy their shining smiles, their dancing eyes and their infectious laughter. I’ll remind them of the magic that can be found in simple items like a cheap prism or some soap bubbles.

What shall I write?

Today as I considered what to write and it occurred to me that we all have millions of thoughts in a day's time but most just come and go unnoticed. We teach our children to listen to their teachers, to listen to their elders and to listen to us but we seldom talk to them about listening to their inner voice. Wouldn't be nice if we taught children to pay attention to their thoughts and dreams. To get to know their likes and dislikes so that when they start to create their life, they will have a better idea of what they truly want for themselves. I know that when I finished High School I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I spent my first three years of college listening to what others thought I shouldn't do and it never occurred to me to tell them that it wasn't their decision to make. I'm not saying that we should stop guiding our children in their choices, we have more life knowledge and experience than they do but I am saying that we need to emphasize the importance of getting to know yourself and trusting in your abilities and your creative energy because you are the one that will spend the rest of your life, in your life.