Depending on the route, I pass this beautiful weathervane a few times a week on my daily walks. Without fail, it brings to mind the saying: “Any way the wind blows.”
To my way of thinking, that means to be easily persuaded, not to stand firm.
Similar, many people “go with the flow.” In my first book, Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth, I wrote: “Don’t go with the flow or against it. Create your own.”
A friend of mine took a stand to not go with the flow, not go with the wind. She opted not to gather with a group of friends (many of them at risk) because of the COVID-19 Pandemic. Will there be friendship fallout from this stand? That’s yet to be seen. I respect that she stood firm in her convictions.
Do you go with the flow, any way the wind blows—or do you stand firm?
Gazing balls originated in Venice, Italy, in the 13th century, where the famous Italian glass blowers would blow glass of all sizes and colors. Most of these gazing balls were created for the affluent homes of kings and queens.
Because gazing balls were thought to attract fairies and magical beings, King Ludwig II of Bavaria insisted that gazing balls be hung from trees, floated on the surrounding ponds, and placed on stands in the garden. Considered wildly eccentric, he longed to rule over a fairytale kingdom and built fairytale castles that today rate among Germany’s leading tourist attractions..
Gazing balls were also used to spy on couples as they walked around the garden (you could watch them unseen). They were also used in dining rooms of wealthy homes, so the maids and butlers could watch unobserved to see who needed their tea refilled.
Do you have a gazing ball in your home, yard, or garden?
On one of our many hikes along the Boise River, Len and I came across this rock. What caught our attention is the perfectly round hole in it:
After continuing on our merry way, we tried to one-up each other on the different types of holes there are. Our list includes:
Loophole, donut hole, drainage hole, keyhole, watering hole, black hole, gopher hole, post hole, sinkhole, pothole, a hidey-hole, bullet hole, and then, of course, there’s the a$$hole—which made us both laugh like dorky junior high kids.
Today is the 5th of May—Cinco de Mayo. It brings to mind our favorite Mexican restaurant—Old Town Mexican Cafe and Cantina—in the Old Town section of San Diego. It’s the “Home of the original Handmade Tortilla Makers.” Authentic and delicious!
While waiting for your meal you can watch tortillas being made—by hand. You can also admire the festive, colorful bar stools.
“Belly up to the bar” means to move near something. However, when looking up the etymology, I found all sorts of interesting information. I especially enjoyed this improbable meaning that was said to be given by a tour guide at an old Lexington tavern:
“The origin of ‘belly up to the bar’ goes back to Colonial times. If your belly could reach the bar, you were old enough to drink.”
I usually take three two-mile walks each day. Each walk is on a different route, but they’re all in or near the Warm Springs historic district of Boise, Idaho (established in the mid-to-late 1800s), which means I get to see some cool stuff, including relics of days gone by.
Back in the day, it was customary for a horse-drawn carriage to pull up parallel to a perfectly spaced hitching post and set of steps. Once the reins were secured in the iron loop on the hitching post, the driver would open the carriage door, and the occupants would descend the steps.
“Hitch your wagon to a star”—the famous quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson—means to aim sky-high and follow your dreams, with the implication that you can achieve anything!
Our daily walks with Willa, our dog, include a long stretch of sidewalk in the Warm Springs historic district of Boise. In front of several of the old mansions, the sidewalk is scattered with multiple leaf imprints.
Due to the COVID-19 shelter-at-home mandate, I’ve had the opportunity to experience more than the usual number of phone and Zoom connections. Regardless, at the end of each conversation, I stop and reflect on the exchange of words, tone, and delivery style—and I find myself wondering:
– What kind of impression did I make—was it positive, uplifting, constructive, and healing? – What’s it like to be on the receiving end of me?
Two weeks ago, I dangled a carrot to entice readers over to my author website for a sneak peek at the cover of my new book, Indelible. The analytics show that 2,200 people visited lauriebuchanan.com in the week following that post—many of you asked for more details.
I got the idea for the suspense/thriller series while staying in one of the cabins at Hedgebrook, a writing retreat—where women author change—on Whidbey Island, just off the coast from Seattle, Washington.
Indelible takes place takes place at Pines & Quill (a writing retreat that’s a figment of my imagination) in Fairhaven/Bellingham, Washington (a real location). I took these photographs to give you a sense of location:
If you wrote a suspense/thriller, where would the location be?
And though Idaho is part of the shelter-in-place mandate during the COVID-19 pandemic, our Governor, Brad Little, encouraged its residents to go outside and get exercise—takes walks, ride our bicycles—just not in groups.
We live a stone’s throws from the Boise River Greenbelt. On one of my daily walks, I heard the distinctive sound of a woodpecker. And though I didn’t see it, this looks like where it might have been:
When I was a kid, Saturday mornings were cartoon-laden with the likes of Beanie and Cecil, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and Woody Woodpecker.
Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! Spring is the harbinger of new things. Zoom has become my new way of facilitating and receiving what had previously been in-person sessions.