A couple of months ago, I introduced you to the world of mahjong, a Chinese game that was brought to America in the 1920s. The game has had not only a revival but an explosion! Learning to play American Mahjong has been a challenge.
The National Mah Jongg League created intense rules for play. As with most games, rules are essential in providing the ability to play wherever you go. The NMJL also provides a game card, which changes every year, keeping the game fresh and providing a level playing field for newbies along with more experienced players.
You may recall I had signed up for a beginners’ bootcamp. Prior to attending the lessons, I watched numerous videos, describing some of the basic rules and demonstrating how the game is played. My favorite YouTube mahjong teacher is Jessica at Southern Sparrow. She has a series of eight short videos called Mahjong 101. Her teaching style is clear and she repeats concepts, which helps to ingrain these tidbits in one’s mind. Watching the videos made learning the game rules much easier.
Even with the online and in-person instruction, I was a bit intimidated – especially when looking at the card. I found the very best way to learn to play was, well … to play! I found other beginners felt the same way. We began to play together once a week and slowly we are catching on. We are having fun in the process and enjoying our new friendships. Who knew when in January I set a goal to foster one new friend relationship that I would gain so many friends within a year’s time?! I feel absolutely blessed!
We were warned that once the mahjong bug bit, we would be drawn into the fold and want more tiles, mats, and racks. I have become a mahjong devotee! I just received my Halloween-themed mahjong tiles and mat. How fun!
When I mentioned in my August post that I would let you know how it was going, I never dreamed I would be so enamored with the game. Many people are. I have played at one of the local mahjong parlors – The Mahj House – with people who have driven an hour or more just because they could join an open play site.
If you decide to learn, take the rules seriously. Review the card frequently. Once you have the rules top of mind and an idea of what the card is about, the rest comes easier. At that point, just play as much as you can for the first two months. Trust me, you will become hooked!
I have dubbed mahjong “the new bridge.” Not only does it allow people to get together and play, it provides a bridge among people who previously did not know each other. Happy playing!
My daughter turned 50 at the end of last year. She is an executive in a school district that provides vocational and technical education to secondary students and post-secondary adults. She has been married 25 years and has two children. All this to say is that she is an independent, professional adult who has a successful career and a wonderful personal life.
Upon becoming a wife and mother many years ago, she “moved on.” Prior to that time, we had a very close relationship. But with marriage came other obligations and interests. Seemingly, she no longer needed her mom. Honestly, I felt somewhat abandoned, having been her primary source of interaction at home for many years. I graciously bowed out as she spent more time with her husband’s family than with me and my extended family. I never wanted to be “that mother” – the one who inserts herself into her children’s lives without being invited.
Don’t get me wrong. I never doubted that she loved me. We managed to spend some time together during holidays. She and I would have a shopping day in both spring and fall – a day we would take off work and spend together. I cherished those few and far between times when I had her to myself for a couple of hours.
Recently, she confided that she was having some health issues. She called when the doctor told her what was going on and that she would need surgery. She said she just needed to hear her momma’s voice. While I knew it was scary, I also knew she would be fine. I just knew.
We talked every day for the next two weeks prior to the actual surgery. I met her and her husband at the hospital early the day of the surgery and spent the day with them. For the following two weeks, I was with her every day. I stayed while her husband was at work, cleaned the house, helped with the dogs, made dinners, and quietly sat as she slept. I brought her water and ice packs, administered her medicine, and rubbed her feet. As she regained strength I walked with her around the house.
In short, I was once again, caring for my little girl. My beautiful, grown up daughter.
What a joy to be able to spend this time with her. Even though she was not feeling well at first, as she improved we had plenty of time to talk. We reconnected. We laughed. We cried. We watched mindless television and fantasy movies.
Both of us expressed our gratitude at our ability to share in this experience. As she returns to work I imagine life will return to normal – her with her responsibilities and obligations and me with my life. Yet, my heart will be fuller knowing that when my daughter is in need, she once again becomes mommy’s girl.
I remember when I lived in Virginia Beach, Va and would go to the Norfolk Forum to hear lectures by famous people of all backgrounds. I was in my thirties, and the audience was a sea of white hair. I felt like I was sitting in a field of cotton. I was a little out of place, yet we were all there to learn from authors, political leaders, artists, correspondents, and the like.
Often, I would go to other cultural events like the symphony or a play or the ballet, and there were mainly audiences with white or graying hair. Well, now that I have a head of white hair and am in the audience with mostly other people who have white or gray hair, I have joined the cotton field.
I often go to matinees now that I am retired, and the audience is full of other people like me, and we are all older. It is fields of cotton. However, even in the evenings at the symphony for example, there are mostly older people attending. I wonder who will be attending these cultural events in the future?
There are just too many other things to fill people’s time these days. We have endless choices of television and cable today. There are lots of rock concerts and sporting events for young people to attend. Then there are video games and endless scrolling on their phones. All good, but what is going to happen to the fine arts when the boomers go to the cotton fields in the sky?
Maybe you must be older to appreciate a symphony or a play by Tennessee Williams. Regardless, it is concerning that audiences at cultural events lack young people. Sometimes you will see a child with their grandparents and that is to celebrate because they are educating their grandchild about the beauty of the arts.
I am not actually sure what to do to get younger people interested in a classical music concert or a lecture on the pristine oceans. One thing that is hampering attendance by the young is the ticket prices. It is hard for most of us to spend big bucks for tickets. However, in New York City, many concerts and lectures are free or have low ticket prices for students. Lin-Manuel Miranda offered a huge discount to students on Wednesday afternoons for $20 to see Hamilton. The going price for those tickets was sometimes in the thousands. Miranda was a former substitute teacher, so he understood that students had limited funds. Bravo to him for introducing them to the lights of Broadway.
I think what we can all do as individuals to develop an interest in theatre or music concerts for younger people is to support our local theater groups or musical groups’ youth programs. My brother, Tim, who was a former teacher, and his husband, Ron, another teacher, always supports youth cultural programs. They are dedicated to ensuring that the young will grow into art fans! We are counting on it. I think, too, you can take a young person with you to see a ballet or chamber music or whatever. Afterwards, discuss the event and how it made him or her feel.
I can remember the first time I heard Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No.1 in my freshman music appreciation class. I almost wept. (I am listening to it now and have goose bumps.) You must be introduced. I have loved classical music ever since.
You can do that for someone. The young don’t have to wait until they have a head of white hair to enjoy the beauty of the arts. You can help guarantee that there will be audiences in the future. The arts enrich our souls at any age, and the goose bumps are icing on the cake.
I was reared to believe that one only wore white – especially white shoes – between Memorial Day and Labor Day. I adhered strictly to this fashion rule well into my professional career. Even when wearing “winter white” suits, I would don a darker blouse or scarf and navy or black shoes. Looking back on those times, it seems a bit ridiculous now. Where did we get the idea that wearing white was reserved for summer?
Wearing white in the summer and packing it away after Labor Day seems to have been a fashion rule designed by early 20th Century elite. The nouveau riche in New York was attempting to join the “old money” crowd who were established as the social elite. This group established fashion rules to separate themselves from the up and coming.
Of course, a more practical reason existed. Many from high society summered in Newport or Southampton, leaving behind the dirty streets of New York City. Vacation attire was cooler, consisting of linen suits, breezy dresses, and tennis attire. These lighter clothing articles were packed away until Memorial Day to keep them clean and fresh.
After Labor Day and returning to New York, white clothing was not practical as walking near dirt-laden streets containing horse excrement and stinky garbage would quickly soil clothing, staining the lighter fabrics.
Fashion magazines reinforced the seasonal changes by promoting darker colors for fall. This prompted etiquette experts to declare white a summer color; darker colors were for fall and winter. Only a few fashion icons challenged the rules. Coco Chanel, Audrey Hepburn, and Tom Wolfe all chose to wear white year around.
Thankfully, today the rule is considered outdated. Even those fashion magazines that touted the fashion rules have agreed that weight of the fabric is more important in selecting seasonal clothing. My guess that rule, too, will fall by the wayside, considering we now live and work in temperature-controlled environments.
While I agree with current fashion thought, I still find a crisp, white, capri feels undeniably summer-ish. Still, I am happy to be free of the fashion rules of old.
When I bought my house in South Carolina from my fairy godmother, Mimi (I wrote a blog about her), left me some treasures in the empty house when I took ownership. On the kitchen counter was a bottle of my favorite wine that we used to share together and a picture book, TheMoonflower by Peter and Jean Loewer. Mimi’s inscription on the inside of the book wished me happiness in my new house and that she planted some moonflowers for me to enjoy as the summer progressed.
Moonflowers are climbing vines in the morning glory family. They have white trumpet-shaped flowers and heart-shaped leaves. They bloom at night and are pollinated by moths rather than butterflies. This nocturnal flower only blooms for one night and in the morning wilts. They are often part of a moon garden.
That first summer I would watch the tight white buds bloom and if you listen carefully, you can hear a pop as it unfurls. The moonflower has a lovely scent that is pleasant to enjoy on a summer’s evening. For the remainder of my time in South Carolina, I planted moonflowers each year. I didn’t have a yard when I moved to Jersey City, so no moonflowers until I retired and began the tradition again for my patio garden that I call Little Provence. I just love watching all stages of moonflowers.
I grow the moonflowers from seed that I get from Renee’s Garden, a gardening company that has high-quality organic seeds and plants. In prepping moonflower seeds to plant, you need to take a toenail clipper and snip a corner of the seed which are hard as bullets. Then I soak paper towels in water and place about 10 or 12 seeds on the towels and cover with another towel that I keep moist. Within a few days the seeds swell and out comes seed leaves. I then plant the seeds in little paper pots to await additional leaves. Along the way some seeds to not sprout or some do not get leaves. I am hopeful by the end that I have 6-8 plants for the two big pot that will be their homes. I have trellises in the pots. I usually do all of this at the end of April and have the plants in the big pots after Mother’s Day when there is no frost. I keep them well watered in an area with good sunlight.
The warmer weather encourages more leaves and tendrils that begin shooting up the trellises. Soon the trellises are covered in vines and little buds begin to emerge. The buds grow bigger until they are ready to pop into the moonflower blossoms. They usually keep blooming until the fall frost. I deadhead the withered moonflowers each morning which I think spurs future growth.
Most of the flowers I plant are from a nursery, so I am transplanting more mature plants. However, there is something magical about growing plants from seeds. I love to feel dirt between my fingers. My moonflowers are my little ritual each year. It is a flower that makes me happy, and I always think of Mimi and the gift she gave me by introducing me to this amazing flower.
I hope that my experience with moonflowers will spur you on to try to grow some yourself. You will be so surprised to hear that little pop and how the moonflowers will make summer evenings more special. Good Gardening, My Friend!
My aunt Kathy is one of the most beautiful, gracious women one will ever meet. She consistently holds parties and dinners for birthdays and holidays and sometimes just because. Is it any wonder that each year when her birthday rolls around I want to do something for her to let her know just how special she really is.
Kathy is the youngest of six children, one of whom was my daddy. She is the last one of her childhood family and no one would ever guess she is 84 years old today. Growing up we all called her “Sue” but as we all matured, she indicated she would prefer to be known as Kathy rather than Sue. I could relate. (The family called me Cindy – which I always hated. My name is Cynthia and I wanted to be addressed as such.) One of my daddy’s sayings was, “I’m full clear up to Sue’s house” when he ate too much. Obviously, we didn’t live in the same city as she. Luckily, now I do!
For her birthday each year I try to avoid a patriotic theme. It just doesn’t seem fair to her to have to share her birthday with America every year. I liken it to someone who has a birthday around Christmas. The birthday girl needs to be celebrated for herself! However, this year, she is sharing her birthday week with America’s 250th so it’s kind of a big deal. Thus, I decided the theme would be Celebrating Red, White, and Sue.
Planning was so much fun! I started a month early to ensure I could carry off the theme in food for the dinner. At first all I could find were desserts. Summer fruits are fairly easy – watermelon, strawberries, blueberries, cherries – you get the idea. But the other food was a bit of a challenge.
Appetizers included three dips – red pepper salsa, creamy garlic, and blue cheese — with white and blue corn tortilla chips; popcorn with dried cranberries and blueberries and blue and red M&M’s; and watermelon squares topped with feta and a blueberry. Sparkling fruited lemonade rounded out the starters.
For those who eat meat I made oven-fried chicken – white meat of course! Red, white, and blue roasted fingerling potatoes, and white corn with red bell pepper, to which I sneaked in some chopped jalapeño and cream. I made red, white, and blue deviled eggs, a cannellini bean salad, fruit and purple greens salad, coleslaw with dried blueberries, and a blue pasta salad. *
Since Kathy is a wonderful baker, I didn’t even try to create a cake. Whole Foods has the most delicious Chantilly cake with berries, and a local grocery store had a vanilla, strawberry, blueberry neapolitan ice cream.
Everyone wore red, white, and blue and the party was a huge success. We celebrated our precious aunt in style.
Mary Ann and I wish you a safe and joyous celebration of America’s semiquincentennial! Happy Independence Day!
*Most of the recipe inspiration came from FoodNetwork.com. The Summery White Bean Salad was from KyleeCooks.com and the blue pasta was inspired by a Mermaid Pasta recipe at veganeasy.org. If you follow this blog you know that I consider a recipe a suggestion – I rarely follow a recipe exactly. That said, I am appreciative of these cookbook authors and bloggers for graciously sharing their recipes for people like me to gain inspiration.
It is hard not to fall in love with a puppy! That is exactly what happened when my father brought home a shy brown and white ball of fur with big brown eyes. The whole family was grieving the loss of our beloved Irish Setter, Abigale, that was hit by a car. None of us wanted to think about another pet. However, my father was a hunter and would need a working dog for the hunting season in the fall. It was hard to think that this little puppy would have to earn her keep. To my brother and me, the puppy was going to be our pet.
So that is how Heidi came into our family. She was a Llewelyn English Setter having brown spots rather the typical black spots. Since it was early spring and way too cold for a puppy to be outside, we got to keep Heidi in the house. That allowed us to quickly bond and to fall completely in love with her. We couldn’t wait until we got home from school to play with Heidi.
I have shared with you in an earlier blog that my 4H project was Dog Husbandry. For that project, you had to care for your dog with feeding and grooming. You had to train your dog and show them at the local 4H Dog Show in early June and again at the end of the summer at the County 4-H Dog Show.
Truly, Heidi was just a baby, but I practiced with her to prep for the club show which was a few months away. Now, the training was not intense as it could have been since we had school and other childhood activities. There was always time to play with Heidi, but I was still learning how to train a dog and show it. We were both babies.
Well, I turned around and suddenly, it was the beginning of June. Show Time!! Saturday morning of the show, I bathed and groomed Heidi so she would look her best. She was older, but she still looked like a puppy with a fat belly. We practiced sit, come, stay, heel, and down that were basic obedience skills. We were shaky on all of them. My father drove my brother and me along with Heidi to a local park for the “show.” Our leaders had us all line up and then instructed us on what we were expected to do. Heidi was like Velcro next to me. She was not prepared for lots of people and lots of dogs. Dogs that were bigger and more confident than she was.
So, there I was with a timid puppy who forgot everything she knew. When we told to walk our dogs around the ring, Heidi wouldn’t move. I had to pick her up and carry her. From there the obedience trial went downhill. Heidi wouldn’t even come to me when called. She was terrified from all the show commotion. However, when we were instructed to have our dogs sit, Heidi sat her little tushy right down in a perfect curtsey. In the end, we got 4th in Sit. I was so proud of our little white 4th place ribbon. I was so proud of Heidi. Everyone else was getting blue, red, and yellow ribbons. At least, we placed. However, it was a long quiet ride home.
When we got home, Heidi was exhausted. She could hardly stay awake. We were also all tired. Heidi had done her best, and you can’t ask more of a puppy who was trying to grow up. I sat with my father who said that we could get Heidi trained for the County 4-H Dog Show in late August. We basically had three months to make this happen. My father asked if I was ready to do the hard work necessary to make this happen. I was and had visions of Blue Ribbons dancing in my head.
For the remainder of the summer, my father and I would go in the backyard after supper and worked with Heidi on commands and how to behave in a show ring. We didn’t miss a day. It was repeat, repeat, repeat. Of course, we gave Heidi little treats for her hard work. She really was working hard for “good girls” and lots of pets and hugs. Our little puppy was growing up into a dog as she was approaching her 6th month birthday in August. She was almost at her adult size. Her coat was feathering out, and her body slimmed down into a beautiful English Setter. Daily brushing was making a difference, and she knew what the different commands meant and could flawlessly execute them. Would all this hard work pay off at the show?
The day of the show arrived. I had butterflies flying all over my stomach. Heidi had gained confidence over the summer, and I did too. She was just glad to be with the family. We got to the fairgrounds where the big County 4-H show was underway. There were all kind of animals being showed all week long. There were kids from all the county competing.
We went to the dog show arena and got ready for the competition. There were three categories – obedience (sit, stay, come, down, and heel); showmanship (how you and your dog showed in the ring); and confirmation (grooming and how each breed compared to its standard). Heidi and I were ready. We just had to prove we had grown. I am sure people remembered our last performance.
The judges cued us on each category, and Heidi and I went through our paces. Heidi was doing so well in each class, and in the end, we won a Blue Ribbon for obedience, showmanship, and confirmation. All three. It was a 4-H Trifecta! Heidi was just happy working with me. I was so proud of her. It was a far cry from 4th in Sit.
As the years passed, my brother and I continued showing our dogs with the 4-H, and there were lots more blue ribbons. Nothing else ever compared to those first blue ribbons. They were precious. I still have them. Heidi was a sweetheart and was so loved by our family. My father hunted with her, and she gave her whole heart to something she loved to do with him. Heidi is now buried in my heart and will always have a special place there.
What I learned from this whole experience is that hard work pays off. This was the lesson that my father was teaching me. I think if you were to check out my family, our work ethic is central to who we are. It is our family ‘s treasure. We are all hard workers. As the years passed, you realize what a gift it was to have that trait instilled into our lives. Heidi was a pretty good teacher too! Thank you, Sweet Girl!
Summer has arrived and with it the crawly and flying things come out. I enjoy sitting in the Urban Oasis (my deck!) but I am so sweet the mosquitoes swarm towards me. Thankfully, I have used a wonderful service for several years. They spray every three or four weeks in bug season to reduce the number of mosquitoes who are determined to fill my arms and legs with welts.
While my mother was living with me, I added their pest control service. Quarterly they spray inside and outside to deal with spiders and other bugs. I like their service because they use natural and organic products. It makes me feel a little better about eliminating the bugs.
A few months ago, my granddaughter, who is deathly afraid of spiders, and my grandson and his new wife rented a house together. My housewarming gift to them was pest control service for one year. My granddaughter-in-law brought two dogs to the household, so pest control seemed a fitting gift.
Yesterday, my grandson called. “The dogs have fleas again!” He mentioned they were bathing the dogs but that he contacted the pest control company to see if they could spray inside and out specifically for fleas. There was to be an extra charge, and the company did not have the capacity in their system to put two payment methods on an account. My grandson asked if he could put the charges on my account. He said they would withdraw cash to reimburse me.
I made a deal with him. If he would come to change lightbulbs for me, I would consider that payment. At 72 plus, I am trying to be mindful of things I should and should not do. Getting on a high ladder is one of those things. I shared with him that I would otherwise have to find someone to do it and pay them, so I would prefer to help family. He admonished me. He said any time I needed help; I should call him. He would never expect payment to help me.
He reminded me that I paid for his summer tuition. Not that I had forgotten; but he wanted me to know he had also not forgotten and was very appreciative. At the time, I told him I would much rather share what I have now so I could enjoy seeing him use the gifts I can give, rather than leaving things for him after I am gone. We seniors think of things like that! Having coffee with my friends this morning, we shared the same sentiment.
So, the rental is being sprayed for fleas today and my yard was sprayed for mosquitoes. Soon we will live in bug-free paradise. And we will appreciate the ability to help one another. After all, that is what family does!
Do you have a word or a set of letters or numbers that keeps appearing in your life? I have. Strangely, I have had SSS show up several times in my life, and it is not the Selective Service System.
In college, I belonged to a local sorority. It was Theta Gamma Phi that later went national, and we became Sigma Sigma Sigma – SSS! The sorority was the center of so many wonderful friendships. A few of those women have remained close as the years passed.
I never thought much of it until I joined a children writer’s group with three other women writers in South Carolina, and we met the second Sunday of each month. We called ourselves the Second Sunday Sisters – once again SSS. These ladies were so creative, and we watched the birthing of many books over the years. We critiqued each other’s work and pushed one another forward being cheerleaders to the group. We would visit the first hour, share yummy treats, discuss any critiques that were pending, and then off to quiet areas of the house to write.
One of the ladies wrote a series of children’s books entitled Down Girl and Sit, and she dedicated one of the books to the Second Sunday Sisters. Boy, that is so special having a book dedicated to us! We began such close friends while I lived in South Carolina. I am still in frequent contact with one sister, occasionally with another sister, and one who I completely lost touch. They all hold a dear place in my heart.
Now, we come to the last or my maybe my most current SSS. It is Silver Sage Sisters, and you are part of that. When we were naming the blog, we originally tried for Silver Sages. The name was already taken on Go Daddy, so we added sisters and bingo, we had our name, another SSS. It was not planned, but I guess SSS wanted to reappear again in my life.
Silver Sage Sisters has become a very important part of my life. I get to work with my dear, dear friend, Cynthia making the distance between Oklahoma and Pennsylvania much closer. We have grown so much in our writing and figuring how to do WordPress. I can remember when it was so hard to add a picture. I often would schedule blogs immediately by mistake and would have to correct the date so blogs would drop as planned. We hope to add another dear friend, Lisa, as a guest writer sometime soon as she embarks on her retirement.
The blogs have given me a creative outlet for doing a bit of memoire, a bit of travel writing, some reviews of favorite books and films, articles on favorite products and services, storytelling, and lots of odds and ends like a SSS blog. It keeps my brains nimble as I create. Cynthia and I appreciate your support and encouragement about the stories we tell. Your feedback has meant so much as we write. We have a small but loyal following. Thank you, Readers. Spread the word and tell your friends and relatives all about Silver Sage Sisters.
Looking ahead, I wonder what the next SSS will be in my life. The past SSS all revolved around friendships, my friendships with other women. I hope that will be the case in a future SSS. If I am still writing blogs, I will let you know. Whatever it is, it has to be better than the Selective Service System!
Last week was mind-numbing. Without going into too much detail, I experienced a scary situation which filled me with anxiety. My mind was constantly racing with random thoughts of what to do. I felt violated, frustrated, and distraught. At first I could not sleep. While I forced myself to put something healthy into my mouth, I just was not hungry – which is quite unusual for me! I even had to tell Mary Ann I would be unable to post a blog on Thursday. She, of course, came to the rescue. I spent the week dealing with the issue.
As the fog lifted I agreed to have coffee with a dear friend locally. My daughter invited me to a mother-daughter time at the nail salon – her treat – for Mother’s Day. The weekend would be for self-care.
Friday, a special surprise was in my mailbox. Mary Ann had sent two books to inspire my writing. One, *Blank Page to Bookshelf*, was written by her friend Mark McNease. I read the introductory pages of *The Joy of Writing Journal* by Lisa Tener and was – well you may have guessed – inspired! I was reminded that I have always wanted to create my own planner layout. So that project may be on the horizon. Who knows?
Saturday, I got up and started moving early. I was just about to jump into the shower having eaten some breakfast, downed the morning supplements, and read my Bible chapters for the day, when I received a txt message from my beautiful, sweet granddaughter. She wanted to stop by on her way to work. I waited in my robe for her to arrive. She brought me a lovely nighty from my favorite lingerie store as a Mother’s Day gift. So unexpected!
Then, I met my friend Karen at a new coffee shoppe. It was spacious, light, and had the most delightful Yemini pastries. She selected a pistachio baklava, and I opted for a cinnamon chip muffin to go with our lattes. After we had visited for a couple of hours (yes, hours!) she pulled out a package. She had run across a lovely stained-glass dragonfly whose body was crafted from a silver spoon at the local art festival the previous weekend. It has found its way to a window in my office, allowing the light to shine through its amber wings.
As I was leaving the coffee shoppe I received a call from one of our local UPS stores. A package I had sent to the wrong address had been returned! Unbelievable! So, I made my way to the store, updated the address, and sent the package on its way, once again. Of course I had to pay the shipping fee again, but for some odd reason, it was less expensive this time. Hmmm.
After working at my desk for a while, I took a call from my aunt and then my grandson called to say he was coming for a short visit. Such a delight! When he left I began readying the house for night and a potential thunderstorm. I was about to close the curtains in my office when I noticed my rose bush had suddenly bloomed! Just when you think people are horrible and life is harder than it should be, others find ways to brighten your days. It’s easy to become sad or lonely or unsure as you navigate your senior years. Yet if you allow yourself to be thrilled and amazed at life’s little pleasures, you will find happiness and maybe even joy! Just the act of smiling, even when you feel like frowning, can lift your spirits. For the mothers who are reading – happy [belated] Mother’s Day!
