Fan Of USA

Fan Of USA
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

Normal Day,

Let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, savor you, bless you, before you depart.

Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it will not always be so.

One day I will dig my fingers into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky, and want more than all the world: your return.
-Mary Jean Iron

Remembering 9/11 and honoring the 'nobility of everyday life'

...and how are WE doing today?

...and how are WE doing today?
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

Blood Donor Barbie wants to assure everyone that HOPE is a really good word. She is also expressing (OUR) gratitude for the warm thoughts and prayers sent our way. ♥
I've learned that September is "Hodgkin's Lymphoma Awareness Month" and the ribbon symbol color is purple. (I hear that 'ding-ding' of the shopping bell...there is so little purple in my closet)

I've also learned that Hodgkin's patients cannot be blood donors for at least 10 years. This has been deeply disappointing news for my daughter; she had already made the 2 Gallon Club.
It suddenly occured to her that she had an answer to so many people who wanted to "do" something for her. She made the request on her CaringBridge post, and I decided to suggest it here as well. I've never done it before. Guess I won't learn any younger, lol. If you'd like to learn more too visit here.

I wish I had more time for flickr posts and visits. This was supposed to be for Toys in the Frame Thursday, but I think I missed it. Maybe I'll try for Happy Purple Tuesday....*(sigh)*
I hope I can pop back tonight for some visiting. If I miss you, have a great holiday weekend!

That 1st step....

That 1st step....
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

When someone you love begins chemo your own experience is surreal. Especially if that someone is your child- even your fully grown child.

I found a rather bizarre parallel. It’s like watching them go bungee jumping. You stand there, not wanting to project your fears onto them. Is it lame to wish her good luck? Your mind races close to the speed of light; it must be that fast cuz everything else seems to be in slow motion. You know once she steps off that platform, there is no turning back.

…and there she goes. The list of ‘what if?’ questions is so long you never get to ‘why?’ And was it your imagination, or did one of Harry Potter’s enemy dementors just slip in and out of sight? How many times is this thing gonna go UP…or DOWN?

When she is back on solid ground do you grab her in a hug-or let her catch her breath? You try acting nonchalant, looking for clues on how to behave. You admire her courage, but keep it to yourself. You ask, “So, how was it?”

Her face is pale, but her eyes are bright. She says, “I’m gonna do this AGAIN.”

She was, and always will be my bouncy baby girl.

Family Tag

Family Tag
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

These are my girls. The smaller one on the left is my granddaughter, Sarah. The fabulous shutterbug on the right is my daughter, Shannon.

Theirs is a work-in-progress…’tagging’ the wall of Shannon’s scrapbooking room. The missing word to be filled in is “Buttercup”. Shannon very frequently greets friends with “What’s up, Buttercup?”

I chose this “work-in-progress” shot to represent my family’s current state.

Some flickr friends already know that this dynamic duo is facing some struggles. Sarah had surgery Thursday to have two extra bones removed. It’s a syndrome that usually affects one foot. Sarah’s doctor told her she was special to have two feet involved. She will spend the remainder of summer and fall confined to a wheel chair or walker. Not easy for an athletic cheerleader. But as she is bouncy-by-default, I expect she will display her determination vibrantly as the paint on this wall.

This, I believe, will be a source of inspiration for her Mom, who is becoming much less bouncy. After Sarah’s surgery was already scheduled, Shannon was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes. Weeks of testing have determined the severity of the disease and course of treatment. The prognosis is good and full of hope. Chemo was postponed due to Sarah’s surgery; preparing for it was not. Whatever joys of summer left to be had were crammed into the remaining hours.

It’s why I have been MIA on flickr. It’s why I expect to continue more extended absences. I will be Shannon’s chemo buddy. She’s one of my girls.

Cancer is just another wall we ran into. Hard.  Now that we’ve dusted ourselves off a bit, I see that wall as another one to tag. With the word to be filled in: HOPE.

I want to thank the friends who have known about this for their support, words of encouragement and their prayers. I’ll be back when I can; until then I’m busy playing Family Tag. ♥With my girls♥

Memorial Day

Memorial Day
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
Eskimo Proverb

Remembering with reverence those we have lost, remembering with respect all who have served or are serving. Remembering with gratitude the service of all, and the families who support them.
Thank you.

Green Bay 101

Bicycles 4 D-Fence
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio ❄

As a lifelong Wisconsin resident, and avowed Cheesehead, I offer this perspective.

This Sunday, Green Bay is in the Superbowl.

I wrote the sentence that way on purpose; I did not omit the words ‘Packers’ or ‘playing’. I am referring to the town of Green Bay and its citizens. (I could include the people in the towns that surround Green Bay. But then I would also likely have to include the rest of Wisconsin, other states, territories or countries where Packer fans live.) The Packers are the only publically owned company in American professional sports. That means the town owns the team. This is not likely to change, as the season ticket holders bequeath the heritage in their wills. It is not one person in a $5000 suit. It is a whole lot of people wearing plaid flannel or blaze orange under the green-and-gold jerseys and sweatshirts. It means that the history, economy, traditions and culture of the town of Green Bay are tied to the team.

I lived in the vicinity of Green Bay for a number of years. It was some time ago, and when I first arrived I did not have a ‘football clue’. I also didn’t think it was something I needed. But as the saying goes “When in Rome…” If one is going to interact with other humans in Green Bay, you will need to speak the language. If you want to ‘belong’ in the community, you will have to participate in the culture. I should point out that you don’t ‘have to’ join the ‘pack’. But the spirit in the town is as warm and enthusiastic as it is infectious. I became familiar with the fundamentals of football. Folks were quite willing to share in their vast knowledge, without making me feel foolish for not knowing. 'Trash Talking' is not taught, nor is it encouraged. I enjoyed being part of the positive atmosphere. I enjoyed sharing in the pride. I remember the town and its people fondly.

I am still familiar with the fundamentals of football. But the spirit of the town and its people are more memorable. I will always be a fan of the town’s positive energy. I have learned about dedication to values. I have learned about the importance of preserving a legacy. I have learned that teamwork is a very powerful tool, and you can still have fun using it.
I wish the town of Green Bay and its people all the best this Sunday. If you would like to join me, you are not obligated to wear a large wedge of yellow foam on your head (although, they really are quite warm). There is no secret handshake. Simply wear a smile and repeat the phrase “GO PACK!”


...........•*¨`*•. ☆ .•*¨`*•..............
####### S U P E R B O W L #######!!!
✿•*¨`*•. (¯`v´¯) (¯`v´¯) .•*¨`*•✿
. . . ✿•*¨`*•.¸(¯`v´¯)¸.•´*¨`*•✿ . . .
...…………….....♥ PACKERS´♥…….………

(Thanks to Dina of Green Bay WI for the PACKER ASCII!)

I have included links below that can provide

History: Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_Bay_Packers,
Insight: Why Green Bay Packers fans are the best fans in the NFL: http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=ycn-7729348 (Jan 31, 2011)

The Bicycle Tradition: http://www.packerstrainingcamp.com/player_bike_rides/
Related info: Green Bay Packers Season Tickets Waiting List Update: http://www.seasonticketwaitinglist.com/2010/07/green-bay-packers-season-tickets.html (July, 2010),
and a bit of Philosophy: The Cheesehead Phenomenon: http://redzonemarketing.com/blog/business/the-cheesehead-phenomenon/ (Dec 12, 2009)

The Reindeer

From 'Pre-blogging Era' archive 'inklingz': A Reflection While Taking Down Christmas 2000

The Reindeer
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio ❄

Since the first year I saw Boston Store’s “forest” of Christmas trees, I’ve made an annual stop in their “Trim-A-Tree” section. That first year, there was a tree decorated with animals of all sorts...perfect additions to my Peaceable Kingdom themed tree. I don’t recall if I bought any myself-probably not. I did tell Mom about it. That same year my Christmas gift from her was a large assortment of the animals. Before the 12 Days of Christmas ended, I received more animals. Mom said they were a ‘Feast of the 3 Kings’ gift.
And so I’ve gone back to Boston Store almost every year, hoping to find more. Mom continued to find animals there, as well as other places. She’d present them to me on occasions or for no reason at all.
Funny...we never went to Boston Store together...
The “Trim-A-Tree” department has changed over the years, There’s no “forest” anymore (sigh) but they still have an unusual collection; unique things you’re not likely to find elsewhere.
I remember stopping there in 2000, Mom’s last year. The array of ornaments was just as enchanting as ever. But even with the bustling crowd of shoppers, there was a bittersweet emptiness. I knew one of Boston Store’s best customers would not be with them this year, or any year to come.
I continued to survey the glittering goodies, hoping to ease the sadness I felt. I was drawn to an assortment of snowmen, and to my delight, I found an ornament for my own daughter’s snowman collection. It was a miniature “snow couple” roasting a marshmallow over a candle. The little ‘snow lady’ appeared to be blowing on the candle’s flame, as if to toast their holiday morsel faster. Perfect...and it was on sale! A new mother /daughter tradition was born.
I made one more wistful inspection in hopes of finding a unique animal. There, back in a corner was a reindeer. He (she?) was a contemporary and graceful creature, with a sleek white body. Its antlers were sparkly green tinsel. Its legs were whimsical red and white striped wires with a curly twist where its ‘knees’ would be. A wreath of metallic holly encircled its neck.
The sleek white body reminded me of an angel’s grace. The green tinsel antlers appealed to my sense of tradition. I was reminded of the passion Mom and I shared for all things red & white striped. Those fanciful legs were yet another twist we’d have enjoyed.
This surely would’ve been the animal Mom would’ve found for me this year. Perfect...and it was on sale!
I came away from the “Trim-A-Tree” at Boston Store with a heart less heavy, and with treasures to keep and to share.
I have a new tradition to carry on. I think Mom would be proud.

UGHS Jazz Band Concert- Chicago 25 or 6 to 4 ~or Why We Need to Support the Arts in our Schools

The Spell Checker Remembered

The Spell Checker
Originally uploaded by Moonflower Studio

Before there were blogs, there were journals. Ten years ago...

October 28,2000 ...

It is the fourth month of the odyssey, to the day. I am planning a journey to Mayville. I will photograph and video tape the ‘show’ hanging at Artistry. It will not take long, and afterwards, I can go and visit my Aunt Siggy and Uncle Ed. While I have been gathering the things I will need for the trip, I remember once again to look for the John Powell transcripts of “Free To Be Me”. I am not only fortunate enough to find it with “Godspeed”, but also to find the passage in it that has been trying to make its way into my consciousness.
“Sometimes I think that God is like an electrical outlet. God is there, and he’s got all sorts of power waiting there. But you have to get plugged in. And that plug is faith”
I am reassured, to have found it again, and that it carries the same meaning as I remembered.
I telephone Aunt Siggy to tell her of my plans, and ask if a visit would be okay. Her voice...warm and friendly in recognition, enthused at the prospect of a visit, is also surprisingly reminiscent of Mom’s. I attribute the coincidence to biology, but it is a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.
My photos taken, I arrive at their home. I am received with even more warmth and enthusiasm. I had been so worried about them-they looked so very frail at the funeral. Here they are vibrant, with tales of their latest excursion, a riverboat gambling trip. These people are not only strong in spirit, but despite their aging, are equally strong in mind and body. They have their difficulties, but are in no way held back by them. We talk of Mom, and my grandparents; I learn new things. It is almost predetermined that we will talk of faith, which they practice religiously. I bring up lost things and prayers to St. Anthony. Aunt Siggy replies, “Oh, you mean Tony?!” We share the delight of having the same friend. The lilt in her voice, its tone and timber, strikes me again. Again I notice similarities in her voice to Mom’s. It is there in her face, expressions and mannerisms. She is, at once, reassuring me of her own unique vitality, and at the same time, offering me a comforting notion that Mom continues in the same way. Perhaps I was trying to absorb her faith by osmosis. Perhaps Tony was with us, and knew what I was really looking for.
We hugged when I left, and she said I made her feel good; I reminded her so much of her daughter, ‘Peach’. I said she reminded me of Mom.
As I began the long drive home, the autumn sun was beginning to settle low in the sky. The fields and farmlands around me provided a lovely pastoral landscape. I left the radio off to enjoy the serenity, and then, there in the silence, was Mom’s laugh. In my mind’s eye was her smile, and the soundtrack to it was her giggle. Short, sweet and swiftly disappearing, it left its buoyant mark on my soul. I could’ve said it was really her, but I was not a true believer yet.
Later that evening, after Mike had already gone to bed, I discovered a movie had previously begun. I had wanted to see “Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind” for a long time. I had not missed very much at all, and I settled right in to enjoy it. There were blanks in my memory of the movie; at last I’d be able to satisfy my curiosity. As the tale unfolded, its characters tormented by visions and experiences that they did not understand, I began to see the parallels. These people were on an odyssey of their own. These people had questions, these people sought answers. These people were much misunderstood by those around them, and yet they continued on in their quest. These people were dazzled by an encounter with something not of this world...
When the ‘special effects’ alien, surrounded by radiant light, made gestures of peace and goodwill, a thought struck me: “Even if there is life on other planets, I’ll bet we have the same God...”
It was only moments later, movie over and again surrounded by quiet, that the watershed began. The events of the day began to tumble through my head like magic dominoes. All the positive energy built to one powerful surge, and gave me the courage to begin phrasing that question once again to God. Before I could finish the words in my head, I already had my answer.... “But you have to get plugged in. And that plug is faith” I made a quantum leap from the faith I’d already built, to a greater one, and I believed.
And she was there. It was not a dream, it was not a memory, and it was not the comforting appearance of an imaginary friend. This was not a product of my mind. It was an experience of my senses, of my heart, of my soul.
“Mom?!”
And she was there. I felt her with me, and I sobbed in awe and relief. I was there, her baby, toddler, teenager and mother of her grandchildren...and she was there, my Mom. I let every emotion run its course.
When I let go of the experience and brought my thoughts back to this world, I was changed. Grief was no longer a bottomless hollow inside. She was only a heartbeat away, through the most ethereal of clouds. The healing phase of grief began. and continues.
I have no proof. In fact, I told no one for some time. It was only days later when self-doubt crept in, and I feared I would never feel such a wondrous occurrence again. And then I heard her say,
“You found me...did you think I’d let you go?”