booksbysheilal

Spending my retirement years in a senior mobile home  suits me just fine. My mobile sets on its own small lot, giving me plenty of privacy. True, I don’t own the land beneath my home, but the amount of my annual property tax is a delight; and my small flower garden gives me ample space to express my outdoor creativity. The real joy of this lifestyle, though, are the friends down the street and around each corner. Our senior mobile home park is truly a community of peers, cheerfully sharing this unique stage of life. Karen Wells is one of us. As we walk past #215, we look forward to the day her peonies, (a sentimental favorite of her grandmother,) burst forth, announcing the coming of spring. One day recently, when Marcia Nelson and I arrived at Karen’s home, the peonies were there, in all their glory. I hope you can see in these photos how spectacular they are. Like the welcoming smiles of treasured friends, they take our breath away! 

When I complimented Kathey on her tidy house and she confessed she never made a bed until she was on her own at age 20, I had to know more!   I grew up in the 40’s and 50’s, she explained. My mother was a housewife and mother, par excellence! She wore a dress and apron every day. She sewed almost all my clothes. The cookie jar was always filled with home-baked cookies. Mom ironed everything and attended a quilting bee each week.    Did she seem happy as a housewife? Mom was usually smiling, but who knows? She might have had her secrets.   Did you always want to be a housewife, like your mom? Oh, no! I admired my aunt who was a secretary and wore high heels. I thought she was so glamourous!    Knowing what we know now, Kathey and I agree—being a “housewife and mother, par excellence” back then was not easy. In fact, if we could go back we would say, Thank you, Mom!  much more often.

“Lisa, you did something many women only dream of: you wrote a memoir. Can you tell us how it’s done?” Step by step, Lisa narrowed it down: First, I decided who I wanted to share my memories with—my ‘audience.’ Then I jogged my memory with a few saved notes, yellow with age. From there, I looked up old friends from way back and we talked about old times. Of course, I researched the history of that era–but AI did not write my book! All along, I called on my persistence. (I wrote and rewrote for three years.) When I started to lose confidence, I forged ahead. Finally, friends read my draft and gave me feedback. True … I’ve studied the art of writing for years; but don’t worry, there are many ways you, too, can learn the craft.   So, come on! Use Lisa’s list and get started telling your story. For inspiration, read her memoir—as lovely as the picture on the cover (which she painted herself, while on the adventure she depicts in her book.) The Rain in Spain is available on Amazon.

To me, ‘astrology’ was my daily horoscope; but when I heard Claudia Beckwith say she once taught an astrology class, I became curious. What, exactly, is astrology?  I asked her.  “It’s an ancient belief system describing an individual’s personality and predicting that person’s future, based on the position of the planets at the moment of birth. Is it a religion?  “Oh, no! Astrology is considered paganism by religions; but the Vatican has a huge section on it, so, who knows?” Does it tell the future like Taro cards?  “ No. Astrology uses mathematics and charts to determine what the planets are saying.” Hmm. One more question: Do you believe in astrology? She paused. Then with a sly smile: “To me, astrology is a mystery—and I appreciate the mysteries of life. If everything is written in the stars, I can go with the flow instead of getting into a tizzy when things go wrong … and I like imagining what tomorrow might bring.” Interesting! I’ll bet Claudia could write super horoscopes!  

When Barbara Jean (“B.J.”) Wong and Colleen Lewis visited my home to tell me about learning and performing hula, I didn’t expect them to arrive looking so pretty—with flowers in their hair and handmade Hawaiian gifts for me. I was even more delighted when I saw the musical instruments they brought, some of which are handmade by the hula haumana (students of hula): a large double gourd (ipu heke,) split bamboo called pu’ ili, and feather gourds called uli uli.     “Hula students gather at the halau (hula school) to dance,” Colleen explained. “When the ipu heke (double gourd) sounds, the kumu hula (teacher) calls out, “Makaukau?” (“Are you ready?”) The students answer, “Ae!” (“Yes!”) and dancing begins.      “We met at hula in 2011, B.J. said. “Now, here we are, 15 years later, still friends and still in love with hula.” Then, to the recorded sound of drums, B.J. called out, “Makaukau?”  “Ai!” answered Colleen, and they began to hula, right in the middle of my dining room! 

Each holiday season, Mary Diefendorf wakes up thinking: What dessert can I surprise Margo’s group with this holiday? (“Margo’s group” is a collection of single, senior women who meet each week in a potluck gabfest.) This Easter season at Margo’s gathering, I quickly snapped pictures of Mary and her Easter dessert-art before they could be gobbled up: cookies with grass-like coconut icing, adorned with tiny sugar bunnies and valentine hearts. “Have you always been a dessert-artist?” I asked. It all started when I was little,” she said, with that faraway, “remembering” expression so familiar to women at our age. I spent a lot of time alone, in my sandbox, making mudpies and wishing I had playmates to serve them to. I sampled one of her cookies. Yum! As always, Mary’s dessert-art was creative, thoughtful, sweet—and made with love for us, the grateful playmates Mary wished for in her sandbox. 

Susan, you recently published an interesting book: “Coincidences and Other Spooky Connections.” “Yes! One day at lunch, I mentioned I’ve kept a record of coincidences in my life for over 40 years. When my friend suggested I write a book on the subject, I couldn’t wait to start researching. I learned that psychologist Carl Jung called coincidences ‘synchronicity’—the connection between all living things. Right away, elephants (known for their deep connections to each other) randomly popped up here and there in my research and my life, in the most surprising ways. They continue to appear—as if to remind me to be aware of connections, everywhere. Thus, an elephant is featured on my book’s cover.” Amazing! Your book seems to say that if we could just realize our connections, we could heal humanity. “You’ve got it! Variations of race, nationalities, religions, and even species, are parts of a marvelous whole. If we focused on connections instead of building barriers, the daily news would be full of pure joy!”

When Carol Nokes told me she was a hospital volunteer, I had to ask: Why would anyone voluntarily go to the hospital?    “Of course, I don’t want to go to the hospital as a patient;” she answered, “but my mom was a nurse and taught me to help when and where I can. I volunteer at the registration desk where I help people find their way—or maybe offer a warm blanket or even a wheelchair. Other volunteers work in places like the gift shop. We receive so much gratitude from patients and staff—it’s very rewarding.” So, how does someone become a hospital volunteer?  “You pass a security background check and make a dependable time commitment. I volunteer two days a week, at least 4 hours each day. It’s true, tough things happen in the hospital. All I know is, if I ever become a patient, I’ll appreciate being greeted by someone with a smile—and maybe even a warm blanket.”   Me, too, Carol. Someone just like you!

Monna Ruskauff and her husband, Ron, recently celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary, so the history of laughter and tears in their home goes way back. Sitting with her hand resting on her little white dog, Monna was shy about being featured on Bright Ideas. Still, she couldn’t resist talking about their children … and grandchildren … and great-grandchildren: “First we were blessed with our daughter, Susan. Then, in 1966, we adopted twin boys. Our 3rd adopted child, Kevin, had special needs—but he’s fine now. When we learned about the Vietnamese Boat People through our church, Sisters Ly (Lee) and Xuan (Sue-Ann) came to live with us. Eventually, we also welcomed Ly and Xuan’s two brothers.” ***Thank you for letting Bright Ideas salute you, Monna and Ron, and your daughter, Susan, your adopted sons, and the courageous Vietnamese Boat Children who found their way to a good life in your home. Thank goodness … no, Thank God … for homes like yours … where hearts expand when unselfish love is needed. 

It all started during COVID. Pat Ensman decided to make something sweet. She experimented with cake decorating, but no dice. However, chocolate caught her fancy! Never wanting to do anything half-baked, she took classes to learn how to get the perfect chocolate ‘temper.’ She designed taste-tests with her friends to choose the very best cacao beans in the world. She experimented again and again, learning to make flowers and then figurines. Before she knew it, her husband was bulding a chocolate factory in their basement and Pat was a chocolatier—with a lively mail-order business. Sorry , Pat can only sell in New York.    Holiday after holiday, Pat individually wraps valentines, bunnies, and wreaths in her basement chocolate factory. As she stirs, packages, and mails the sweet stuff, she has one image in her mind. All her chocolate profits go to House of Hope International.com; rescuing and rehabilitating children and women caught in the bondage of human trafficking.   See what I mean about Bright Ideas and big hearts? Gotta love that chocolatier!