Writings by Diane

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in my car outside of the hospital playing solitaire on my cell phone, waiting for my husband to receive some stitches. Typically, I would be back with him lending at least moral support. Now with COVID-19 precautions, the new normal required me to remain in the car. I must admit, I felt a bit annoyed, even though  it was a routine procedure and my absence was minuscule.   As I looked out the windshield, I reflected how I never thought I would live to see things like this happening--the reports of new cases, death tolls rising. I was amazed that my regiment for going out was donning a mask and keeping a healthy supply of hand sanitizer. This train of thought put me in an upset mood.  Then, my gaze fell upon a heavily pregnant woman walking along the path on her way to the hospital. The sight of her brought back memories of when I was pregnant. I remember how our friends and family were able to visit the hospital before the actual birth and how my husband n

One morning, I was cutting up radishes and I was suddenly reminded of my dog Trisha. Trisha was a Labrador Shar Pei that we lovingly called a LaPei.  When I would be prepping radishes, she would sit by my side, and look up at me with her limpid brown eyes. I couldn't resist and would toss her at least one radish.  She would chew it up and would even stick around for the wispy roots and short green stocks. With Trisha around, there was no waste of this vegetable. Sadly, she crossed the rainbow bridge over a year ago. I thought if I evoked even the tiniest of memories, I would immediately miss her  and my eyes would fill with jagged tears. I feared remembering Trisha would conjure up the images of the last days of her life, where her black fur was tinged with white and arthritis had changed her gait to a painful hobble.  However, as I stood in the kitchen, this memory washed over me in a comforting warmth.  My vision became blurry from tears, but these tears didn't sting. I was

A few years ago, I wrote a blog about my hobby of growing roses. I correlated  pruning roses is like shedding old habits. I am adding an update to this example. We removed a few of our rose bushes a couple of seasons ago due to what we thought was weed rot.  I was sadly disappointed when I saw they were withering. Seeing the empty bed of dirt was painful. When the next spring arrived, we were surprised that a few strong rose vines started to grow again. This spring, they have graduated to rose bushes, with new buds starting to blossom. I was amazed and glad about their return.  As I write about this experience, I am struck that it is a literal example of my writings. I stopped writing in my blog a few years back. Life was happening, many new directions that I was extremely grateful for and wanted to give them my utmost attention. Now that these paths are secure, I had some random blog thoughts that popped into my head. However, I was gripped with some trepidation to go back to  my o

For the past couple of months, I have noticed in my shopping excursions, there are a plethora of adult coloring books.  Whether I was in pursuit of groceries, crafts or browsing, these paperback books filled with intricate black and white drawings are flooding the shelves everywhere I shopped.  One day, my curiosity was saturated, and I picked up a volume entitled Mindfulness. In my Graduate classes, this topic has been very prevalent and it’s been in the forefront of my mind.  I flipped through the pages and saw this book have elaborate drawings waiting for colored pencils to bring to life. I also noticed that there were quotes from a variety of luminaries such as Carl Jung and Socrates. Since I am a huge fan of sage and concise quotes, I immediately bought it. As I opened the book and absorbed the words, I found that this activity could easily lend itself to a relaxation experience. I am always looking for opportunities for self-care, so I decided to be very conscious of th

A couple of months ago, my bonus son asked us when the mail usually arrived. My husband told him it usually comes in the early afternoon.  I found this inquiry different, since he had never shown interest in the mail delivery schedule.  He then informed he had ordered a Loot Crate. Each day, he waited patiently for the mail. When a box wasn’t delivered, he looked dejected.  I had no idea what a Loot Crate was-- it sounded like something Long John Silver from Treasure Island would speak about in low tones and a pirate accent.  Finally, his "loot" arrived and it contained a T-Shirt, figurine, and other fun items with a theme. I asked my bonus son what exactly is a Loot Crate and he directed me to their website . As I navigated through the site, I began to understand its appeal. Each month, they have a different theme, such as horror for October. When a person orders a box, they are in for a surprise when it arrives.  It’s been something I know I have nagged my kids about

I woke up one morning with the tune “Misty” in my head. I was humming it as I fed my pets. The cats looked at me blankly as I crooned “I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree.” After my concert to bored animals, I decided to look up on YouTube the professional singers of this song. I was aware of only two singers that performed “Misty”:  Johnny Mathis and Ray Stevens . I found it fascinating how Johnny Mathis could sing each high falsetto note meticulously. Though I enjoyed listening to him singing this song, it was not my favorite version of this tune. Ray Stevens’ bluegrass interpretation held that honor. I wasn’t quite sure why it was my favorite.  I did enjoy the uniqueness of the sound of his voice-- it has a yodeling quality to it. Or maybe it was the lighthearted and bouncy melody that the banjo and fiddle bring. As I scrolled through YouTube, I was very surprised to see that there were many other artists that performed this particular song.  I clicked on the video of Ella F