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When Is Good, Good Enough?

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Striving for excellence motivates you; striving for perfection is demoralizing.

~Harriet Braiker

I frequently struggle with what to keep and what to discard when it comes to my images. I can easily see exposure issues with this flower that cannot be resolved without losing detail in certain areas … yet each time I move to send it to the trash something stops my hand. It’s not perfect, but there is something happening in the very center that makes me want to give it another look. What about you, how do you let go of the need to be perfect and make peace with good enough?

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One Benefit Of Line Drying – No More Lost Socks

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You have to love having someone around who is still young enough to enjoy the chores most of us would easily never do again if someone agreed to take them off our hands. Now before you go thinking I was trying to turn Jersey Girl into Cinderella last week, she volunteered to help her Bapa (John) out when he had some washing to do.

Photo by John Winchurch

In fact, she seemed to like the process so much there was little left unwashed when she went home to Jersey last Friday. I think her favorite part was hanging the wash on the line. She had quite the system right from the beginning and not surprising a few things emerged during our discussion around issues frequently found in maintaining a clean wardrobe.

Chief subject of interest, you guessed it … disappearing socks. It seems despite the geographic boundaries of another country, here, as in America, dryers, referred to in the UK as tumble dryers, still eat socks. Jersey Girl mentioned that this had happened in the past with one of her grandmothers who had managed to solve this problem by pinning her socks together before they were washed and dried. It turns out that grandmother has one of those sock-eating tumble dryers in her home.

I told Jersey Girl that I had discovered that the secret to safe-guarding socks from a mysterious and confusing shortage was to hang all washing on the line. It’s the absolute truth and no matter what you might say about the hassles of line drying, not only does it save money and energy, you don’t end up with solo socks whose mates have gone on walkabout deep into the Devil’s Triangle we call a tumble dryer.

Don’t believe me … I dare you to give it a try for a few weeks and see what you think. Oh, and don’t forget to check your energy bills at the end of the month to see what you saved, in addition to possibly your favorite pair of socks.

*******

This post was inspired in part by my fairly frugal husband John and his granddaughter Jersey Girl and also by Donna Freedman and the money-saving tips found at her new space here and her regular MSN Money home here.

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Comfort In The Dark Or What Waits In The Light

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John and I were talking about regrets this morning and I clearly have many more than he does. Never someone to sit around waiting for change, I have often jumped at opportunities when perhaps I should have waited, but I have always been more afraid of missing something than making a wrong decision.

Ralph Waldo Emerson might have been speaking to me when he said. ” For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.”

I’ve heard people say and have said it myself, that everything that has happened in our lives makes us who we are now, but sometimes I still wonder what might have been different had I been more content to wait for the light of a new day to reach me instead of always trying to find my way out of the dark on my own.

There is something to be gained in patience, a virtue I have long needed to learn.

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A Few Spoken Words From Elizabeth Harper

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Have you ever wondered what some of the bloggers you read regularly actually sound like? Do you hear a particular voice in your head when you read my posts?

Not long ago two things happened that made me think I might like to share my voice with you and I’m hoping that you might feel inclined to do the same. Mariellen Romer and I exchanged a couple of emails where the topic of tea came up, sweet tea in particular, and cold, the way southerners where I’m from in Georgia tend to like to drink it.

She said this reminded her that I was a Georgia native by birth and as such, my spoken voice might sound a bit different from the one she heard in her head when reading my blog. Additionally, there was a post by Jennifer Trinkle written for a contest on NPR called Three-Minute Fiction that asked for submissions which could be read in three minutes and prompted me to want to give the three-minute thing a try for fun.

The piece you can hear below is not fiction and is something I wrote a few years ago based on an actual event. It’s also a tiny bit longer than three minutes clocking in at 3:03.

Have a listen below and tell me … does my voice fit the one you hear in your head?

The Secret In Her Smile



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A Walk In The Park With Mariellen Romer

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Photo Courtesy of Mariellen Romer

Mariellen Romer has been walking the talk. After joining the ” I Left The Corporate Life Club ” a few months ago, she has been following her dreams and they’ve carried her most recently to new locations and experiences in the western part of the United States. If you were to check her out here, you would be able to see an impressive corporate work history, but if you take a moment to see what she’s been working on lately you’ll feel like you’ve been for a walk in the park. Mount Rainier National Park to be specific.

Mariellen has been part of a creative team intent on sharing the benefits in visiting and volunteering for The National Park system. Anyone who has ever been over-stressed knows the good that comes in having a change of scenery or doing a different kind of work even if only on a volunteer basis so give this a thought and take a minute to have a look at what’s happening over at her space. In the videos on her blog today over at A Full Life, Mariellen is talking specifically about Mount Rainier National Park Volunteers, but don’t forget to consider something a little closer to home if you live in a different part of the United States. They will be happy to have the help and I bet you’ll end up feeling like you get back more than you give.

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Summertime Rocks Using Dandelion Clocks

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After a week with Jersey Girl, I can almost tell what she’s thinking before she makes a move and I know whenever a dandelion is in sight, she is going to want to check the time. I never knew about dandelion clocks until she taught me last spring during my first visit to Jersey.

Notice the look … hmm … I wonder what time it is.

Carefully … she picks the clock.

Then giving it a few puffs of air …

She counts what’s left …

Sadly, it looks as if our time is up.

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Pirates Come To Cornwall

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I’m a bit short on words today so my pictures will have to tell the story. I missed a few activities and didn’t get shots of everything, but I think you’ll be able to see that the children seemed to have a great time at the party yesterday. I was amazed watching them play in a place so beautiful and so close to where we live. I run past this spot which is just off the Camel trail. I can’t imagine what it must be like to grow up with all this nature around them.

If you closely at this photo, you can see ducks in the river and cows in the meadow.

The river is to the left in this shot of the tables and the field is a fine one for play. The woods in the distance were used to hide two of the treasure boxes.

The bottle with the map was hidden near these rocks which are across from the picnic tables.

Here comes the first wave of pirates with John and Jersey Girl joining in the procession.

A little snack before the work of treasure hunting begins.

Pirate Queen  ‘Miss S’

Pirates making a plan.

Finding the map.

Opening the bottle to get to the treasure map.

Finding one of three hidden treasure boxes.

The littlest pirate waits for a hand while the others follow the map to search the ferns.

You can see the gold and silver find in the ‘crystal’ box in the pirates hand.

Time for some video before moving on.

These two were the first ones in the water.

Then the girls began to edge around it too.

Muddy, you don’t know muddy until you’ve played with these two.

Here’s a couple of pirate moms taking a seat across from the river where the pirates are getting muddy and wet.

One of John looking a bit sea going himself.

One of a few games that they played although I’m not sure what they doing.

This is the book and clue I mentioned yesterday which led them to the treasure map. I’ll be a bit more chatty when I’ve recovered from the week.  Thanks for your interest in the party and I hope the photographs give you a sense of the afternoon.

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Wanted – Treasure Hunters & Map Readers

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Captain Pete was a pirate who sailed far and wide

and like other pirates had something to hide.

After taking the treasure from ships passing by

he buried it deep in the Cornish countryside.

There’s a river they call the Camel I hear

it was there he would go when trouble was near.

So dig if you must or look for a map,

with so much time past, he’s not coming back.

If you search near the river, you’ll find an old bottle or box

it’s there I’ve heard tell, tucked deep in the rocks.

With an old map to guide you, there’ll be nothing to fear

just use it to help you find all he held dear.

Today is our last full day with Jersey Girl and we’ve planned a little pirate themed party along the river with some children from the village. I’m putting the last touches on the treasure map and I created the little verse above that will be written in a moment on some coffee stained paper I baked in the oven yesterday. I plan to tuck it in an old copy of Treasure Island and let the children read it at the river after we discover it hidden in the pages of the book.

I’ve been busy baking and making a variety of yummy treats and to use as a treasure in boxes of sweets … oops, sorry about that, I just can’t seem to stop rhyming. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow just wait and see, there’ll no more bad rhymes, written by me.  Arguh!

Somebody stop me, I can’t help myself

perhaps I should leave the children’s books on the shelf.

I’ve become quite addicted, with no self-control

All this rhyming and writing has taken its hold.

I may need a clinic, a place I can stay

like the Betty Ford one I’ve heard people say,

is the place they would go if they got carried away.

It ‘s not about drugs or drinking too much,

it’s wordstuck I am and losing my touch.

For my old way of writing the things I would say,

‘ Hello, can you help me, I’ve quite lost my way.’

My addiction to rhyming has overwhelmed me so

I think I shall need one of those places to go.

I’ve forgotten all the things that I used to know,

all the grownup worries that bothered me so.

They disappeared with the diet I’ve struggled to keep,

it’s like that you know when children stay for a week.

After Jersey Girl sadly leaves us tomorrow,

I’ll go back to plain living with words that will follow.

A boring old grownup with games still to play

I’ll pack them all up for the next rainy day.

When John and I sit inside staying dry

I might make up a story, I’ll be tempted to try.

It will be fun to remember I’m sure you’ll agree,

as we sort through the photos from our week with JG.

We’ll laugh and remember how she was with us in May

and plan for the next time, our Jersey Girl comes to stay.

Thanks to all of you who joined us for our week of fun. I’ll be back tomorrow with some more from our day, but no more rhymes I promise, when I’m having my say. Oops! There I go again. It’s pitiful really, I mean it’s like I’m channeling a bad version of Dr Seuss.

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Boris The Bear Tells Himself A Story

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In the window at home there’s a sweet little bear,

slightly tattered, not torn, but missing some hair.

He sits kind of floppy, and propped with a view,

watching and waiting and thinking of you.


A bear you can see by his worn looking face

that’s been treasured and favored

with his own special place.

Loved from the beginning,

he’s been very well fed

on the dreams of girl

and all the things in her head.

He’s enjoyed the all pleasures of years

two, three, four, five, and soon six,

he’s her favorite he knows,

the one she always picks.


But today is somehow different,

someone’s taken his place,

it’s that silly old Pooh Bear who’s crowding his space.

Beside his dear girl as she goes for the day

he wonders what they’re up to

missing her greatly

in his bear sort of way.


Growing up can be scary for a bear on his own

he’s been a faithful companion and rarely alone.

He sits and he watches and wishes she’d phone.

‘ I am here and I miss you,’ is just what he’d say,

‘ Will you be home soon, are you on your way? ‘


He knows it’s silly to be sad and so blue

as her little girl heart can love much more

than a old bear or two.

One day when she’s older

with hair that’s gone grey

she’ll have trouble remembering

things like his name,

when she got him,

or the games that they played.


He’s heard all the stories

from bears on the street

when the children aren’t looking

and they’ve a moment to speak.

They whisper in passing

of changes to come,

but for now he’s still Boris,

and her number one.

Yesterday after a long day out, I noticed Jersey Girl’s favorite bear Boris sitting in the window. He’d been left there in the morning by JG posed on the window ledge so that he could see outside while she was out exploring with us. I was lucky to see him when I did managing to get two quick shots before she grabbed him up to join us at the table for dinner. She didn’t know I was outside taking pictures and in the second photograph, you can just make out her ear and the side of her face as she is reaching for him.

I began the little bear story this morning and what came out has as much to do with my relationship with an old stuffed bunny from my childhood as it does with Jersey Girl and Boris, her bear. This is one of the things I love most about writing, you begin a story thinking it is about one thing and suddenly another story begins to reveal itself along the way.

I would be interested to know if you remember a favorite toy or stuffed animal and can you remember its name ?

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Memorial Day – Because Sometimes We Forget

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Captain Eleanor Grace Alexander died on November 30 1967 in a plane crash in Binh Dinh, South Vietnam. I did not know anything about her until I made a point to find out who she was and how she died after seeing her name at the Vietnam War Memorial Wall. Eleanor Grace Alexander was one of eight active duty women who died during that war. She was 27 and unmarried.

Born the same year as my mother she would have been 70 on September 18 had she survived. Having read first hand accounts from people who knew her and several who served with her including Rhona Marie Knox Prescott who wrote this moving letter which is part of the Veteran’s History Project in the Library of Congress, I am grateful there was a record so that some of my questions could be answered.

As an American child of the sixties, it was the Vietnam War that was the backdrop of my daily life with body counts and war updates delivered each night by men like Walter Cronkite of CBS news. Sadly we are still at war, still fighting, and still burying the dead. Although we do battle in different countries now, the result is the still the same for many and unless your life has been touched directly by loss it can be easy to forget why we recognize Memorial Day, why it’s more than a precursor to summer fun and pool side parties. I’m guilty of forgetting in the past, of treating the three-day weekend that leads into Memorial Day as a much needed respite from a too full life. What I hope to never forget is that I’ve had a chance to live the life I have thanks in part to men and women who died in wars long before I was born.

I plan to take a few minutes today to think about Eleanor Grace Alexander and my great uncle, Hugh Lee Stephens who died in WWII.

Is there someone today that you need to remember … I only ask because I know from experience that sometimes without meaning to, we forget.