“I Ate too Much” Blog #2

“I Ate Too Much” Excerpt by Jack Prelutsky

I ate too much turkey

I ate too much corn

I ate too much pudding and pie

I’m stuffed up with muffins

and much too much stuffin’

I’m probably going to die

I piled up my plate

And I ate and I ate..

Sound familiar?

I am so grateful to have had so many choices of food at the Thanksgiving table, and even more grateful to have shared it with my family. (I am especially grateful for the expand-a-waist pants I wore, too…) Sometimes being grateful catches you by surprise. Several weeks ago I went “tulip-crazy”—I planted tulip bulbs everywhere in my yard. Some will have fringy tops; some will look like parrots; some will remind you of freshly squeezed lemons. Even after planting them in my Sunny Bear Garden, my two front gardens, and in the planters near my back deck, I still had some left over. I immediately thought of my neighbors next door and their young daughter. We don’t really know each other except to wave in passing. Last summer , as I was working in the garden, they remarked at how beautiful my front gardens were as they got into their car. I was so touched and so pleased at this simple gesture of kindness. It encouraged me to keep tackling my “friends” the Weeds. This past summer, as I walked by their apartment building, I was completely surprised to see two new small planters and two large trellises by their front door. They were going to have a mini garden! The wife of the family confirmed it: “My husband wants to talk with you about growing flowers in our planters.” Wow! I felt like I had paid my plant passion forward! Now I knew the leftover tulip bulbs would be perfect for their mini garden in the fall. I put the tulip bulbs in the original bag, stapled a note to it (Hi, neighbors! Thought your daughter would get a kick out of planting these bulbs!) , and hung it on their doorknob. I took my usual morning walk to the ocean and on the way back noticed that the bag was gone. Yay! I went around the side of my house and saw a bag hanging on my doorknob. Oh, no! Had they returned the tulip bulbs? I lifted the bag off the doorknob and saw a note stapled to it. “Thank you for the bulbs! Your Neighbors next door.” There was something in the bag. I peered inside and there were dahlia tubers in the bottom. DAHLIAS???!!! I love dahlias! Suddenly a feeling of gratitude swept over me: grateful to have inspired someone else to create their own garden; grateful that we had communicated in a simple but mighty way; grateful that kindness really does exist–still!

Gratitude all around!

5,4,3,2,1…LAUNCH!

2024 has been a year for launches. From political campaigns, to Space and Satellite exploration, to AI intelligence, these launches have taken our world by storm. For me, living in a beautiful, small mid-coast town in Maine, the word, launch, has special meaning. For example, my husband launched his dad’s sweet little runabout boat that had been lying dormant in a Minnesota garage for the past forty years. Painted with a fresh coat of blue and boasting a brand new 30 horsepower motor, the boat slid proudly into the bay and delighted a summer’s worth of company, grandkids (Who could top seeing seals pop out of the water??), and friends. Then there was the garden launch that seemed to take over my back yard. What started as a couple of rows of sunny, fuzzy teddy bear sunflowers turned into five rows and spread to the front yard in the form of a winding, whimsical path leading to a small playhouse. Suddenly, another idea was launched: why not create a children’s book about teddy bear sunflowers, extolling their importance through a charming little teddy bear who hides in the sunflower garden? Somewhere in between digging in the dirt, planting, and weeding, “Sunny Bear and the Secrets of Sunflowers” launched into the world! My head was spinning as ideas began to come together: I could start a tiny business selling my teddy bear sunflowers, create a whimsical path for kids to wander through looking for bears hidden amongst the sunflowers, and add in a story walk along the path… Yikes! Grandiose plans, right? But I have all winter to dream and plan for the launch of Sunny Bear Gardens in the Spring. Now, if I can just get my husband to build those story walk boxes !