Tag: boxes

Tiny Tuesday!

Today was a day of being close with friends when we said a hard goodbye. Not my place to share this publicly yet, but I wanted to mark the date.

Interestingly, a winged visitor joined us in the early evening as we sat outside (a rare opportunity this summer; shade and a breeze made it possible). I had hoped that distant cry heralded an arrival, and then a very large crow landed in the tallest tree just outside the back of our property. Some say crows are bad omens. Not to me. I think they bring a little magic and sometimes a message. I felt like he confirmed my choice to begin the next book with my “crow” character.

I want to do more thinking and reflecting–timely, as Mercury goes retrograde mid-afternoon tomorrow (thanks, Pat!). For me, Mercury retrograde provides an opportunity to pause. It also reminds me to make sure my actions are aligned with my intentions. Of course, any of us can do this any time. Mercury just makes me mindful of it.

Adding a couple of tiny reminders of a love that made me laugh.

Tiny Tuesday!

It may be Tiny Tuesday, but I packed getting a lot of stuff done today–just the business of living and taking care of a couple of issues I’ve been putting off. So busy that by the time I got home, I needed to start dinner and get dogs in and out between rain showers.

Found this young lady a couple of weeks back on deep discount at Ross. So interesting to me, because I’d just written a new character whose description matches her. (That box she’s placed in front of was a cool gift from Lynne long ago.) She’s Mattel, and not as tall as Barbie. She’s a teen, and the character I wrote is 18, so it works.

Tiny Tuesday!

April 18, the anniversary of my father’s death, never gets past me. I always remember both of my parents’ birth dates on the day of, but most years, I overlook the date that my mother died until sometime after the fact. I think because that anniversary is on the first day of the month (June 1), and I rarely notice month changes in general. I do remember infinite details about both those days, in 1985 and 2008, but I agree with the concept that time is a great healer; even the saddest memories are much softer and always tempered by the better ones.


Because it’s Tiny Tuesday, I woke up with the idea of sharing this lacquer cigarette box, a gift to my father from the chief of police where he was last deployed in Korea before he retired. It’s been packed away for a while, and I’ve decided to display it with my other boxes.


A look inside. On the left is a compartment for holding a pack of cigarettes, maybe even some of the smaller cigar brands. That’s a cigarette lighter with a University of Alabama emblem I was given when I was in college, and since Daddy and I both graduated from there, this seems like a good place for it. On the right is an ashtray in pristine condition, so I know it was never used.


Inside the top is hand lettering to show the names of the giver and my father.

I wish one of his grandchildren or great-grandchildren would want this memento, but to date, none of them seem to have my sentimental (possible hoarding?) tendency. But as long as I’m around, this piece of my father’s history has a home.

Tiny Tuesday!

I decided to do a photo today for Instagram because I last posted on February 3. Though I almost never sign into Facebook, and checking Twitter gets more infrequent, I do still scroll my Instagram feed daily, but I forget to post. I figured it was time to say, “Yep, still here.”

While setting up a photo to note–what else, Valentine’s Day, I took out this wee box from one of my display cabinets. I THINK I know who it’s from, but there are three strong candidates. So if you happen by and you were the giver, tell me! I’m freaking old. I forget things.


Shot next to a Hershey’s Kiss for scale.

Writing (yay!) and will add today’s playlist later.

ETA: Started off with Hole, Live Through This. I included the actual CD because it has a heart on it–Valentine’s Day and all.

Kept going with The Hollies’ Greatest Hits; Hootie and the Blowfish, Cracked Rear View; and Chris Isaak, Forever Blue.

Tiny Tuesday!


Another tiny box came to us at Christmas, this one from Tom’s parents. It contained a USB flash drive of 1700 photos and documents related to their family history. I can only imagine how daunting it was for the two of them to take on that project: going through photos, reading documents and letters, and scanning/cropping all their choices.

I can’t even manage to get my solo stuff organized, and I also have many things relating to my parents and our family genealogies. I did get my parents’ home movies onto VHS tapes for everyone once (siblings, nephews, nieces, sister-in-law), and I have no idea if anyone watched or kept them. And now the original films are gone, and we need to find someone who can move our lone tape to something more tech-updated, if the VHS will even play.

Tom has saved all his family material to his computer, and I hope he and his siblings, who received their own flash drives, enjoy journeying through their family’s near and distant past.

Coping skills

I’m filtering social media and its comments very rigidly these days.


Took the small Georgie Woolridge Animals coloring book from my Coping Skills Box and colored a red-eyed tree frog (Agalychnis callidryas). I learned the red-eyed tree frog isn’t poisonous, and I definitely relaxed while I was adding color to him.

We had at least a couple of rainy nights during the week, and on one of them, Tim sent a video to Jim and me of the frogs who were singing outside in response to a much-needed shower. When Half Acre Wood also got good rain, Lynne said the birds were dancing and singing among the wet tree limbs.

To recap, not poisonous: red-eyed tree frog

Poisonous: hate, ableism, prejudice, cynicism, dishonesty, sexism, hunger, jealousy, oppression, cruelty, bigotry, bullying, poverty, greed, violence, heterosexism, apathy, racism, injustice, classism, homelessness, fear-mongering, ageism

How I try to eliminate poison from my mental and emotional diet: education, creation, and action as I’m able

the real story

Today, Tom and I went to a neighbor’s funeral. It’s his second in-person funeral during the pandemic (which I count as beginning for us in March 2020), my first in person during the same time (another one, I attended online).

I’ll miss talking with her, which these past years meant calling out to each other with the street between us. We could pack a lot of opinions and laughs into those conversations, as I did with her daughter, who died in 2020. They both loved family, music, dogs, and politics. Probably you can see why I enjoyed being neighbors with them.

Afterward, I came home and went back to my manuscript. On a break, I wrote this little poem using words from The Nerd Poet Magnetic Poetry Kit.

I do sometimes use the Coping Skills Toolbox that I blogged about in April 2020. Today, I copied the MagPo poem into the little journal where I used to record poems several of us wrote using magnetic words. I probably need to look inside this box more often.

Tarot Etc. Thursday No. 19


I don’t remember where I got this beautiful box, but it’s one of my favorites. It’s where my rune stones live, kept on a shelf next to the book that came in the set with them.

I keep the stones in the bag they came in.


It’s been many years since I did any readings with rune stones. When I decided to feature them today, I reread all the information in The Book of Runes by Ralph H. Blum, and it was like it was all new to me.


My late friend John strongly identified with the rune Uruz, which according to Blum represents strength, manhood, womanhood, and the wild ox. John wore a pendant similar to the one on the right as his talisman. I think James kept it and wore it for a while after John died. That one is mine, which stays in a box with special small items given to me by friends or kept in honor or memory of friends.

Some of the reasons runes interested me, perhaps still interest me, is that they are meant to provide us insights into ourselves. While they’ve come to us from many ancient practices, rituals, and philosophies, anyone of any belief system can use the stones as a means to, as Blum quotes the Oracle at Delphi: Know thyself. Rune stones are not meant to explain the past or predict the future, but to keep us in the present. As Blum suggests, whether we see the runes as a bridge between ourselves and our Self, or a link from Self to the Divine, they show us how to be and act in the moment by tapping into our inner wisdom (e.g., subconscious, intuition).