Ninja Mantis of the Rose Garden

I was out watering the garden, yesterday, and I'm usually very careful about where I aim the hose, but I didn't see any little creatures on my white bush rose. No honeybees, bumblebees or spiders were anywhere in sight. The sun was shinning warmly across the front porch and I was thinking that I needed to prune some of the spent roses because they were looking rather sad. As I watered, my mind was planning things like where the Narcissus and Daffodil bulbs should be planted sometime this month, what plants I should just pull out because they struggle so much every summer and when I would have time to sand and refinish the porch that desperately needs some stain on it. So many things need to be done before winter sets in. November is a good month here, for projects. The rains will, hopefully, come but before they do, I have many gardening things that have to be done.

So , as I'm filling my head with all of these ideas and thoughts, I didn't pay attention to the hose and where I was watering. All of a sudden this huge Mantis comes charging up out of the white rose in attack mode. She plants herself on one of the white roses that needed to be deadheaded and then , with her beadie eyes on me, she lifts her front legs up and takes on the stance of a monster in one of those Japanese horror movies.
I don't think I got her wet. I was only watering the ground around the rose..., but she came up out of that Rose plant like I had called her to battle. She positioned herself in front of me like she planned to do me great bodily harm and if she hadn't been all of two or three inches tall ..., if she had been huge like in the movies, I would have grabbed the dogs and run to the house, locking the door and calling the sheriff. This is the Corgi dog of the insect world....,a tiny Ninja disguised in pale green, looking like a dried leaf. This little Ninja was not praying for guidance, she was ready to take me on.
I had to laugh, but at the same time, have respect for this creature as I watched her defend her place in this world she lives in. Brave, rather scary (even with her small stature) and showing the world that she is the biggest, baddest insect in the garden. I laughed, but I removed the hose, said I was sorry and went for my camera. She allowed me a few snapshots and , being the little alien that she is, she moved her head and front feet around menacingly just to let me know that she was being patience with me and at some point I needed to leave her to do her work in the rose garden. I did.

How fascinating.
This creature will always be welcome in my garden, as all the insects are. Maybe she has a nest down inside the rose. I will be much more careful from now on.

Stagmomantis Californica - California Praying Mantis
Family - Mantidae
Order - Dictyoptera
Length - 4.5 to 5 cm.
Recognition - Typically green or light brown or yellow
Habitat - Common on bushes and low vegetation
Behavior - Predator
Residency - Southern United States
Note - The California Mantis is cannibalistic. During courtship, the female may decapitate the male for unknown reasons. This, however, does not prevent the male from continuing the mating process. (That's a guy for ya!)

This information on the California Praying Mantis was found at:
The Free Information Society. site

Who Said This?

"Something whispered something that was not even a word.
It was more like a silence that was understandable.

I was standing at the edge of the pond.

Nothing living, what we call living, was in sight.
And yet, the voice entered me,
my body, with so much happiness.

And there was nothing there
but the water, the sky, the grass."


(A poem from Mary Oliver's new book ~Red Bird~)

Spiders,Spiders Everywhere

This is my sister's house. Halloween is her favorite holiday for decorations. She hosted a party for friends during the week before All Hallows Eve, so the house was "dressed to the nines" and looked wonderful. I thought all of you would enjoy looking at her beautiful house with all the decorations before she has to disassemble all of her creative , spooky decor and start all over again for the Christmas holidays. She told me , this morning, that the huge pumpkin on the front porch is slowly sagging and she's not sure how to remove a rotting, squishy squash of that size without the whole thing collapsing into a pile of unstrained pumpkin pie pulp. This probably doesn't help her with this problem but....., "Sis, that was a killer pumpkin. Everyone was amazed at it's size and your creative "Boo" on the front of it was beautiful."
There were huge spiders everywhere...., on the walls , climbing the clock, hanging on the lamps...., little ones, big ones, all black and scary. The fireplace had these lights in it that flickered so it looked like there was a small fire in between the leaves and the happy pumpkin. Every corner, every window and every shelf was a spooky delight. Please click on the pictures for a close up of it all. Enjoy!

After the grandboys made the rounds of my old, and their new, neighborhood we drove over to my sister's house. The boys went around to a few courts nearby with Mom and Dad, and then came back to the porch where my sister was sitting and giving out candy. The bean wanted to help. The candy was in a Harry Potter magic book. When you opened it a voice said things to you. The Bean thought this was very cool and that's a "thumbs up" while trying to hold the book on his little lap and open it...., and close it...., and open it...., and close it.
He was getting a little glassy eyed by then, but he gave out some candy and he didn't tell the kids how to do it like last year, when he told a little girl, "you spose to say twick or tweet first" and would not give her any candy until she said it. He's grown up so much since then. He's 4 and 1/2 years old now. He's a BIG boy. He loves his new house and his Aunt Lisa..., and a book that talks when you open it up...., or could it just be all that candy in it.
The Bean and his brother were almost asleep as soon as they got into their car seats but before they fell soundly asleep they wanted their bags of candy to hold and a promise that I would come over the next day. I said "You betcha. See you tomorrow Bambinos." and off they drove.
What a weird wonderful feeling it is to remember being the same age. To remember the excitement of Halloween night and the magic of it all. Rachel Carson called it "A sense of wonder". I have found it,again, with my grandchildren. I didn't really lose it. It was just tucked away in the grown-up part of my life. It was there all the time.

Halloween Beans

Halloween is about an evening of fun and excitement. It makes a new neighborhood friendlier and makes children less likely to be afraid of the Boogie Man. You put your pajamas on underneath your costume so you are ready for "crashing" after all the activities...., then Dad tells you it's not time yet and you have to wait for everyone to go together, so you let your Noni take some pictures of you.
(please click on photos for close-ups)

You pose for your Grandma..., and you pose.., and you POSE. Then you sing a song, that you just made up, about saving people from a burning buildings and how Fireman are the greatest. Then you start giggling about something with your brother and the photo shoot is, basically, over with. And finally.....

Here we go....
"See you later Noni."

....,and so, as I wait for some children to come to the door, I waved goodbye to my two beans and watched them leave the house on Halloween with the excitement that I remember having when I was a little girl. The street is the same..., the trees are much bigger, you can't see Mt. Diablo from the porch anymore because of them. It has been 50 some years since I ventured out into the Autumn evening with my friend Dawn and the other neighborhood kids on this street. The first few years I held my mother's hand, too. Then, when I got older , one parent would take all of us. We would run around like little Flash Gordon's, going from house to house, with our pillowcases dragging behind us..., seeing who could get to the next house first.

"Trick or treat"..., hold your bag out, feel it become a little heavier..., "Thank you." and run like the wind to the next house. It was a rite of passage each year. Learning to be braver, faster, maybe going a little further.
Then..., getting home and counting how many pieces you have..., and sorting all the candy by size, or color. Trading some of it. Having them check the candy for strange unwrapped ones. Sharing some with Mom and Dad. Sometimes sharing with a sick brother or sister who couldn't go with you. Learning when too much candy in your stomach is really too much. Oh, the fun of it all.....

Disclaimer:
For all of you that don't let your children participate in this holiday, I can only say.., this is your choice. I don't believe that it's about worshiping evil or giving the devil strength. It's about giving and sharing happiness and treating your neighbor with goodwill and kindness. It's about happy little faces that learn to understand that receiving something from others can be a "windfall", but not without some effort and a "Thank you" at the end. It's a happy tradition that gives a child many wonderful memories. It's about family, goodwill and two little boys who are on a safe journey with their parents. It's a legacy of love that continues on this lovely street in Pleasant Hill, California.

A Day Past Due Tuesday: Finding Things in an Old Box

This is a silk dress; wrinkled, fragile, thread bare in places with smocking and a scalloped hem.Sis and I found it in the very bottom of a box filled with letters and diaries. Inside this box were my grandmother's letters from her husband who was a traveling pianist in movie theaters..., letters that gave us some insight (and some questions) about our family. Interesting letters about a time when our grandmother was very young and life was written down in long letters and personal thoughts were put into small books and dated, written with pens that had to be continuously dipped into a container of ink, sometimes dripping onto the page when hands were shaking with emotion. Life spilled out..., hand written, onto pages of small books and journals. Letters and saved things that were important to someone, that meant so much to my grandmother, so long ago. Old photos, report cards, class pictures, advertisements, announcements and obituaries. Life and death, happiness and sadness...,

...,and then, in the very bottom of this old box, folded together.., a young girls dress. A lovely blue silk dress with hand painted flowers and a pink hat, a small hand made purse and a blue handkerchief. It was the only clothing in the old box. It must have been very special. I picture the late 20's. The "flapper" style dress; short, sleeveless..., the "cloche" hat. This was not a grown up dress. It's seems more for a young girl or pre-teenager. A dance dress perhaps. A very special dance. My Mother's? Her sisters? We will never know, for a certainty, who this lovely dress belonged to, but I suspect it was either my Mom's or my Aunt Marcia's because this was my grandmother's box of things.

We found a lot of my Aunt Marcia's letters and journals, school things, pictures she drew and wonderful childhood items that my grandmother had saved.
You see, my mom's sister was always getting sick as she grew up (they think, now, that she might have had Leukemia) and she died at Merritt Hospital in Oakland, CA. in 1937, when she was only 18 years old. My grandma never got over her death. I only remember one picture of my aunt, a large one in a beautiful frame, on her living room wall. She never talked about Marcia unless I asked her and then she didn't say very much.
Mom told me that her little sister was very beautiful, popular and talented. Mom said she had a sweet personality and liked everyone. She was 2 years younger than my mother.
I think that this little box was a place where Grandma put all the memories of her daughter and laid them to rest. I think the dress was Marcia's. Maybe it was made for a "first" dance.
I wish we had known her. I know how important my sister was and is to my boys. There can be such a wonderful connection to an aunt. It's like having a "back up" Mom when you're tired of the one you live with. Another opinion, another point of view and another place to lay your head.
It would have been nice to know my Aunt Marcia, in life, but now I know her a little better ...,because we found this old box of memories.

Please go to Roomies for more Past Due Tuesday posts about old things and stories that need to be told again.

Destinations

"One's destination is never a place...,

But rather,







a new way of seeing things."







~Henry Miller~

I'm going down to the Bay Area, to see my family this weekend. I will be gone until Monday or Tuesday. Gotta give out candy and take pictures of The Bean and his brother in their Halloween costumes. They will be trick or treating on the same street that I did when I was a child. How amazing is that?

Wordless Wednesday: Stormy Autumn Sky seen through Truck Windows

Past Due Tuesday: Candlesticks and Re-purposed plate.

These candlesticks are probably from Italy. My great-grandmother was born in Milan and came here to marry my great-grandfather. I was told she brought a Dowry (which is the property that a woman brought to her husband at the time of the marriage) with her. These lovely candlesticks were far too fancy for life on the ranch. At the time, in the Napa Valley, there were only small farms and a beautiful little town. It was not the fancy, tourist mecca it is today. So, coming from a great northern Italian city and a wealthy family, I suspect that she brought some very nice things with her.
These candle holders are black glass, appear to be hand blown ( there are no "seams" anywhere.) and the design is etched into the glass. They're rimmed with gold which is very worn. There are no markings of any kind that would give us an idea where they came from. Mom never used them that we can remember and these were found in a cabinet above the refrigerator where other assorted candlesticks were stored..., most of them never having been used.

They are really beautiful; very "old world". I will do some research on the Internet and see if I can find some information on them.


This plate of my grandmothers is very interesting. Again, there are no markings. It's carve, beautifully, with rose buds and leaves and looks like it might have had a cup or vase attached to it. Also, there is a broken part that might have been a handle. The pottery is beautiful and almost transparent but I don't think it's porcelain. It's heavy for a small plate. The carved flowers and leaves are very well done.
I use it to burn my large candles on because of it's flat center. I love the way it looks. Does anyone have any ideas what it might be and what it's made of?


Please check out the other antique and vintage things that are "past due" for the attention they deserve at Roomies and add your own wonderful things.

The Mess.., and some Murphy Wisdom.

Yes..., this IS my guest room. I worked on the closet all day. That's why everything is in the middle of the room. This is not a pretty picture. This is not SIMPLE LIVING.

So I went for a hike with Annibel..., to think about what I should do and take a breath of fresh air.

..., and, then, I had a long talk with Murphy, who settled me down and make me see things in their proper perspective.
That would be, and I quote, " Farmlady, you'ld best be building a BARN or..., rent a STORAGE LOCKER, for a while, until you decide what is really important."
I feel better now....
Yea, I sure feel better..., yea...,
Thanks Murph', would you and the boys like a bookcase for the goathouse?

Why I love the man I live with and other honest confessions

I only showed you a small part of something yesterday. You only saw the results of one beautiful piece of furniture, looking great, in it's new home. Many of you commented about my remarkable husband and how patient he was about all of this. Well, now you're going to think he's a "Saint" because now I will show you all the other things that he hauled home for me yesterday. It was a load. All the rest of my obsession/possessions are sitting in the garage ,now, saying...," OK lady. We're here and you are going to have to get rid of something in this house before we can be moved in. Get busy."
It wasn't just the bookcase/desk that he lugged back up to our little house. It was a buffet, a 9x12 Karastan Carpet, a painted bookcase, an old mirror, some vases and an antique wall clock. .., and the blue and white vase that is going to my good friend, C, in Sacramento.
The car has lost it's covered parking place for a while.
Look at these things. Would you have left them for the Goodwill guys to pick up? I rest my case.
And..., just guess what this is. It's the top part of the buffet. I have had it for years. I was refinishing it to reattach it (someday) to it's beautiful buffet that Mom was going to give me..., SOMEDAY. Well, someday has arrived and do I have this top finished and ready to reattach to the bottom part? No. Do I have some work ahead of me? Is our cat, Annibel, sleeping on the new rug..., that she thinks we put on the garage floor for her? Is there room in the house for any of this? Agggggg....
And..., to make matters worse, I have another unfinished piece of business sitting in the corner of the garage. ( I'm showing you a lot of dirty little secrets today. I think I'm heading for a huge reality check). Bought this two years ago, sanded it and there it sits, gathering dust, surrounded by more projects and tripping me every time I walk through the back door of the garage.
I confess..., I'm not the perfect housekeeper, gardener, guru of living in the country that my Blog makes me out to be. I procrastinate. I'm awful about finishing projects and ...., I'm human.

There. I said it. Now, what am I going to do about all this?..., I'm not sure. I need some serious help. I guess the Prospector knew that I would come to this realization all by myself. He didn't have to say anything. I think I'll keep him around for another 40 years.

Now.., excuse me while I go have a small breakdown.

Vintage Thursday on Friday

Once in a while I sit myself down and say.., " You are a very lucky woman to have grown up in a wonderful home with good parents, that weren't perfect, but they did their best to provide a stable and happy home for you and your sister". Now that they are both gone and the "things" in their home are being sorted and divided up between my sister and and I...., I realize that a lot of that stablity is what makes those memories that were stored in this house's corners. Every piece of furniture, every cabinet and each room has so many poignant memories.
Yesterday the Prospector and I drove down to Mom and Dad's house, which is now my son and daughter-in-laws. They are renting with the intention of possibly buying the place in a year or so and they have been working toward that end. It's just wonderful! I had not seen the house since I left a week after the memorial for Mom. They have done so much work on the place and they finally moved in last weekend. New paint, carpeting, painted kitchen cabinets and counter tops, new bathroom floors, cabinets and fixtures.It's looks beautiful and I know that Mom would be happy that they have done such a great job. My grandbabies are going to make new memories now.
The prospector and I picked up the trailer that our son had borrowed to move with and I had a few more things to bring home with me. My husband deserves a special award for the way he has handled his wife during this trying time. Especially yesterday when I already had a garage filled with things from the last trip and now I wanted to bring home more..., and I have no place to put it ..., and there will have to be a major upheaval of our little house to accommodate these new/old things. Not a word has been spoken in anger or tiredness. Even last night when we finally got home and I realized that I had really gone too far.
Today he helped me move more things around and we did get my grandmothers bookcase/desk moved into the bedroom. It's so beautiful. The chair is a duplicate of another that I have had for years, but in much better shape. I did exercise some self control here. I only brought ONE chair home with me. There are 4 more, but they have cane seats and are badly damaged.


This desk is in beautiful shape. It has a beveled mirror in the top and old hand blown glass in the bookcase section. There is a broken hinge in the drop down desk that is just bent and needs straightening. Other that the hinge everything is perfect. The old oak is beautiful. A brass bolt that holds a shelf in place says March 1897 on it. If that is also the age of the desk then this is truly "an antique". I love it in my bedroom and feel like I am the "guardian" of this wonderful family heirloom. It's so beautiful and I will always keep it safe until I pass this treasure to one of my boys in years to come.
The prospector has said that the boys can have all of it...., 'cause if anything happens to me he's moving into an RV and going on the road. Just he and Carl. Without any furniture. But..., he didn't say this yesterday.., or today. Bless his heart.

Wordless Wednesday: Nature's Harvest

Past Due Tuesday; "Coffee Table" lighter.

Picture this... A beautiful coffee table filled with hors d'oeuvres, a bowl of mixed nuts, some flowers, large photography books on Paris and The Opera Houses of Europe, a tray of cigarettes and this lighter. My Mother's lighter.
It's sometime in the 1950's. Mom and Dad are having a party. Guests arrive. Coats are carried to the bedroom, everyone is handed a drink of choice and the room fills with cigarette smoke and laughter.
Later there is a wonderful dinner and the talking and laughing continues. My sister and I have gone to bed and I listen to the happiness of my parents friends enjoying themselves. It is a common scene in our house.
Mom's sits down at the piano and starts to play The Whiffenpoof Song and then, Time After Time. Someone comes over and starts to sing. Then another .., and soon a group forms around the piano and someone starts harmonizing. It's a warm and happy memory that has stayed inside of me after all these years. Even the cigarette smoke has become a part of this memory. I still love the smell of it.
Dad never smoked, but my mother did..., from just after high school to around 40 years of age. It was socially acceptable and she never thought about the consequences of smoking until she was in her late 30's and kept getting Bronchitis.
When she passed away this summer, she had damaged lungs and breathing problems that were irreparable. She could not have anticipated the damage that those years of smoking did to her.

So , I have mixed feelings about this little lighter. It's beautiful and it was always on our coffee table, as far back as I could remember..., but it represents a time when smoking was done without a moment of thought..., when life was all about "After the WAR" and "Aren't we glad it's over." and having a good time. It was about buying a "pack" with "filters" and which brand was the best tasting.

This lighter was a Ronson. It was a popular maker of cigar and cigarette lighters back then. The pattern was"Queen Anne" . You filled it with lighter fluid through the bottom, unscrewing the small bolt that said "fill here" and tipping the can of lighter fluid into it. I got to do it a few times with my Dad watching me carefully. It came with green felt on the bottom to protect the table. I loved pushing the top down and watching the flame appear.
You would think that all of this "taking care of the lighter" would have lead to wanting to try a cigarette and it did once or twice, but I actually didn't like smoking so I never formed the "habit" others did. I do remember carrying candy cigarettes in my pocket and "pretending" when I was little. Do they even make those anymore?

An advertisement at the time said....
"Why Miss Anne Gould, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Jay Gould, prefers Camels" With a picture of a lovely, wealthy heiress smoking a cigarette and looking very sophisticated and stylish.
And the small print says..."Why do I smoke Camels? Because I honestly like their taste better than any of the other cigarettes," says Miss Gould."Like most of the girls I know, I prefer a mild cigarette -- that's another reason I am devoted to Camels. Besides, I see no reason for letting cigarettes make you nervous -- Camels never make me edgy or jumpy."And I really believe you could smoke Camels forever and ever and not get tired of their fine, smooth flavor."
No one knew any better then. It was the "cool" thing to do. It was what "smart" women wanted. It was fashionable. ..., and still, today, the charade goes on. At least now, women can MAKE A CHOICE with all the scary information "on the table"..., not a dish of cigarettes and a lighter.

Please join Roomies: Past Due Tuesday and share your vintage items with us. It's fun. It's interesting..., and you'll learn things you never knew before. This is a brand new vintage venue for all your wonderful old things. Join us won't you?

The Rain has Come, Again

Last night the clouds moved in and by midnight we heard the sound of rain on the leaves outside our windows. This morning the sun tried very hard to shine but the clouds finally won and semi- darkness prevailed. This is my favorite time to go for a walk. I had forgotten how hard it is to balance a camera and an umbrella at the same time but I did it and these photos are the results.
The rain darkens everything and makes the garden richer and more beautiful than it really is. The end of summer heat left all the bushes and plants, especially the roses, in a very bad state. Leaves curled and flowers wilted..., but this morning it's as if hand lotion has been sprayed over everything; shiny, moisturized, and dripping with rain . Even the plants that lost their battle with the summer heat look like they have been given a second life. It's a rebirth of liquid "gold" here in the Mother Lode. The 49er's knew that without water they didn't stand a chance of finding gold in this arid country..., or surviving. Their ghosts are standing on the clifts above our house with their hands in the air, smiling and then laughing at the soaked hills around them.

I let Carl out to roam free in the fenced area this morning. He loves this freedom. He's so full of self importance and purpose. When I was ready to go back to the house I called him. The picture on the bottom right was his response. He sat very still and thought he was hiding from me. "Carl, it's time to go back into the house. We'll dry off and have a biscuit." NO ANSWER. "Come on Carl. We will come out later. Be a good boy. Let's go." HE DIDN'T MOVE.
Then a bird flew by and off he went, running the fence.., ears in the wind, looking like a fox without a tail, a short coyote, a dog on a mission.

Here he is..., a wet, happy dog trying to herd the goats through the fence. Look at him. Winter is almost here. The Rattlers have gone to sleep and the Poison Oak is dormant. Even though I can catch the itchy rash from the bare sticks , there doesn't seem to be any in the fenced area, so we are safe for the rest of the Winter.
This little boy dog is protected from any harm..., so we will let him mark his territory and claim it for his own. What a wonderful world it is for a little dog, with endless energy, to run free and take control of his own universe.
As I write this Carl is sleeping in the Prospector's lap..., it doesn't get much better than this.

Do you ever feel this way?

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory
it stood, isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my Soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my Soul.

~Walt Whitman~

Why did I put this photo and this poem together in the same post? Through the spider ,the speaker relates his point of view about human souls. When the speaker says that the spider “launched forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself” he is saying something about a spider making a web..., but also about man trying to make connections with the world, to feel a part of something, or find its place in the universe.
I would like to know what you feel when you see this photo and read this poem....