Second time around....

I love this phrase "the second time around". It is open to all sorts of interpretations. Normally, I would think a new love. I can check that one off for sure. My life with Jack is contentment and partnering. It works. Neither one of us planned for the cancer that took our first spouses. We are so fortunate to have found this second chance.

Those of you who read my blog and perhaps follow me (and even leave a comment here and there) know that internet in the summer is costly and slow and inefficient. It is much easier for me to post on Facebook from my phone. I have learned that making albums to add my pictures to my blog is a Gigabyte demolisher. I have decided to let my pink pictures have a "second time around".

My doll house is a second time around effort (or second childhood). I had this very same one as a child. I have no idea what ever became of it but I found one in Florida and it lives in my studio. The bathroom is pink! I found some more furniture this week. Another box will be sent back to Florida!

Another second childhood time around is my Madame Alexander doll. She has lived in the original box for many years and many moves. I felt she needed and deserved a new outfit.

She is now sitting near my Featherweight in my studio. It has been a long summer for her but I shall be back soon and she is not in a box anymore.

I love vintage pottery. Things made with pride in our country deserve a second chance - one of the reasons I love this pattern Blossom Flite made by Hull Pottery in Crooksville, Ohio in the early 20th century. 

So, this is just a taste of second time around in my life and times.

I am joining Beverly at How Sweet the Sound for Pink Saturday. It has been a while. Stop in if you have a chance.

Fall in the air and I am approaching 400 posts!

It seems like we just got here and now it is almost time to go back. Walking into the cabin the grass is speckled with little leaves in all the autumn colors. There is a touch of fall in the air. I see it on the lake.

Soon there will be pumpkins and berries.

And pretty leaves...

We shall make green tomato relish.

I will use my grandmothers food grinder.

The cabin will smell wonderful and we shall sit and wait for the jars to ping as they seal. The jars will be carefully packed and shipped back to Florida. A few will stay here for my sons.

The marigolds are flourishing now. I think they make a nice still life.

The cabin will be winterized in October as the nights get longer.

I did not accomplish all I wanted to this summer. I think maybe I try to accomplish too much. I am spoiled in Florida with unlimited internet. In Maine I have a "hotspot" which eats those Gigabytes rather quickly.

This post is number 394. Seems hard to believe. I shall have to think of something celebratory!
'Til then.....

The sisters.....

I am on the left and my sister is on the right. She has a lollypop and I have ugly brown shoes. 

This has been a most unusual year for our family. My mother was one of four sisters. She grew up in Massachusetts. After she graduated from college, she headed off to NYC to work in the children's library of the NY Public Library (the one with the Lions). She met my father and they courted. They were married in 1941. I came along in 1944 and my sister in 1947. We moved to New Jersey and the family in Massachusetts was a destination once or twice a year.

I was the oldest of the nine cousins. Too old to be with the "babies" that the my grandmother favored. And I was too young to be with the grownups.

I loved my aunts. Their humor was pure entertainment. I would listen from the top of the stairs. My giggles would give me away and I would be sent back to bed! 

In 1957 one of my aunts died tragically. Her husband moved away with their two girls. All contact was lost. I have always wondered what happened to the little girl cousins.

 The years have flown by. This spring I received an email from one of my other cousins. One of the missing cousins had contacted her. I was thrilled. We have been in contact.

I have struggled with this post. Questions and emotions are bouncing back and forth. Looking back I have to wonder why they were missing for so long and no attempt was made to love and include them. Their mother was a wonderful woman who loved them very much.

Their story is not mine to tell. I am so glad that they found us. It should have been the other way around.

Welcome Fran and Iris.