Sorry I’ve been a bit quiet. You all know how life gets … but we’re a very lucky family … all is well! YAY!!
We’ve finally been enjoying some warmer weather in our area, and it’s gotten me to thinking about being outside … taking walks, picnics, bike riding. Even curling up in a comfy chair with a good book and a nice tall iced tea.
Imagine taking an early morning stroll along Washington DC’s Tidal Basin during the magnificent Cherry Blossom Festival. If you get there early enough, you’ll miss the mass of tourists and you’ll see the icy gray sky clear to a gentle powder blue. You’ll be the first to see the beginnings of morning light, when even the pinks in the petals take on the glow of the warming sun.
I am convinced that things go on in this world of ours that we know nothing about. I’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary, at least not since growing out of little kid-hood, but that doesn’t matter. (If you can read between the lines, you’re welcome to let your imagination wander ).
A few years ago my family and I had the great pleasure of attending a wonderful small-town Fourth Of July festival in the charming town of Queen Anne, Maryland. There was a fabulous parade complete with Parade Queens, the local Fire Department trucks giving rides and everything you could wish for.
After the parade everyone gathered in a large area for an old-fashioned bazaar. There were home-made cakes and pies being raffled off, penny-toss games and a band playing on a small stage.
I felt like I’d been magically transported back several decades.
Off to the side I spotted this beautiful motorcycle. Police presence was not noticeable, but obviously someone was watching over the happy crowd of families and merry-makers. I snapped this shot of the policeman’s bike and have held onto it all this time.
I love flowers. I used to love growing flowers, too, until the local mosquito population discovered what a tasty morsel I am. So when little me gets a bouquet of pretty posies, you can bet at some point the camera will probably come out, and I’ll take some time to play.
This particular image was originally snapped mid April of 2014, so I’m guessing this tiny lily was part of a birthday bouquet from my dear hubby. I’ve seen these guys in my arrangements from time to time but never knew quite what they were. After having some fun with it in Photoshop and Corel Painter the other day, I decided it was high-time I learned a bit more about them.
One of the things that makes holidays and family gatherings special to a lot of us is tradition. At least in my family, we like to go to the same family member’s house for a particular holiday and we like to see the same yummy things on the menu. Even down to the same china and silverware on the table, we do love our traditions. Tradition brings back thoughts of childhood, of happy times, good memories of those who have gone on, all of which can be very comforting.
Recently my husband and I did the “downsizing” thing which we knew would throw our family’s customary ways of doing things into a loop. How would the rest of the family react at the holidays? How would my husband and I ourselves feel about it when it came time to sit down to that big family meal in a totally different place?
“Time For Tea” … from Lois Bryan Photography and Digital Art
“Beallair … or Beall-Air, also known as the Colonel Lewis William Washington House, is a two-story stuccoed brick house in classical revival style near Halltown, West Virginia. It was the home of Colonel Lewis William Washington, great-great nephew of George Washington and hostage in John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry, West Virginia.”
Every time my husband and I stop in at the Denny’s Diner in Breezewood, PA, there’s a moment when I’m whisked back in time to the neighborhood diner of the ’50s. And yes, I do remember the ’50s … you know, vaguely. Very vaguely. It was a time of bee-bop music, swinging pony tails, black and white oxford shoes (hated those things … couldn’t keep the whites white), poodle skirts, and hanging out at the local diner, curled up in the booth, sipping on a chocolate milk-shake and listening to Elvis crooning away on the juke box.
Well, no not really. Actually, I never did any of that. Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I did swing my pony tail once or twice. And I really did hate those uncomfortable shoes. However. For some of us of a certain age, I think it’s in our genetic memory to have done all those things … by osmosis or something, right? I’m probably getting my sciences mixed up, but you get my drift.
Building snow men (and ladies), skiing and boarding, sledding, curling up with a good book in front of the fireplace, a fire pit surrounded by your friends and a mug of hot mulled wine steaming in your gloves … or just a good old fashioned snowball fight. Winter has a very special charm.