QUEEN ANNE'S LACE

QUEEN ANNE'S LACE

Besides Iris, I love Queen Anne's Lace.  Some people say it is a weed. I say it is beautiful anyway.  Yesterday, I had the most amazing trip, down to Goreville, IL.  I took a ride with my cousin Sharon Rae navigating.  We went to Happy Hollow.  Yes, that is a real place, and it is so beautiful.  We drove, down, down, down, around the bluffs and into the Hollow.  Along the roadside and everywhere there was beautiful Queen Anne’s Lace blooming.  In spite of the drought and the fields of dying grass, trees already turning, leaves falling, just the end of June.  Still, Queen Anne’s Lace flourished.  When we finally came to the church, to turn around and retrace our journey, I stopped the van.  Sharon Rae got out and picked me some stems of beautiful Queen Anne’s Lace.  (I think she’s a princess, herself.)  So it might be a weed or it might be a lovely work from the hand of our Lord.  You decide…….

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU GROW!

A dormant seed in need

Of scorching sun

And drenching rains

Could be

Just

Another

Wild-strown weed.

Copyright - 2012 - Doris Grant Frey

Orator

So many men speak volumes

and say nothing.

I knew a man who could say everything

without a single word.

             Photo by ART                                     Copyright - 2012 - Doris Grant Frey
         White Iris in Fudgetown

Sat Am Blessings

SATURDAY MORNING BLESSINGS: 

          The patio flowers are growing thicker and blooming brighter colors:  pink and purple petunias, glowing orange marigolds, dusty millers, shiny silver, and the Irish green ivy is stretching out on the patio floor.  Where to go?  What to do?  Oh wait, here comes Mr. Robin, hopping across the grass.  And there’s Mr. and Mrs. Yellow Finch, flitting by and clearly upset that I’m sitting too near their favorite morning snack shop.  A jumbo black and yellow and very busy Mr. Bumble Bee buzzes about between the two tiny pale yellow butterflies.  But best of all and first visit 2012, a giant, regal, black and orange Monarch butterfly.  He brought his royal self in and lit on a flower, stayed a while.  Then up in the air, in circles he flew.  I thought he was going for sure, but he flew right over my head, around and round, then right at my nose.  While I’m awaiting my King Monarch’s kiss, he takes a spin dive right back to the flowers.  It seems his Royal Highness only kisses the Marigolds.  Only slightly offended, I decide it’s OK.  After all, He is the King.

Copyright – 2012 – Doris Ann Grant Frey

HERRINFESTA 2012

Pic from TheSouthern,com

I call him Little Uncle Sam.

I was there at the parade. Around me were kids, babies in strollers, parents, workers from the rides, older Herrinites and a group from one of the shelter homes. When the cannon on the BarBQ float shot out the multi-colored confetti and bright shiny streamers, there were expressions of surprise and happiness on all of those faces.  It was truly priceless! And I thought it was pretty, too.

We have some amazing talent in Williamson County.  Stay with me here.  You can read about all the winners in TheSouthern.com.  Just search HerrinFesta Awards on their homepage. 

HERE ARE THE DORIS ANN FREY PICKS FROM THE ART EXHIBIT.

First I picked this one and bought it.  Thank you, Cec Myers for painting my memories, "Butterfly Haven" in a peaceful garden.  I think they're lilacs.  Memories of Gramma's old cellar, sweet pea vines and fabulous lilac bushes.

I found some really interesting things that make me think of the past.  Interesting point is that they were all in the Student and Amateur artists' categories. 
First this old Chevy:

"Listening to the Past" by Lydia Ramsey, 

Second Place, Student Artist in Drawing & Painting, Photography

        Then this caught my attention instantly:

"Full Service" by Phelps Connor

Third Place, Student Artist in Drawing & Painting, Photography

SEE WHAT I MEAN?   

ALL THE OLD STUFF COMING FROM THE YOUNG STUFF!

(And it does get better!)

          Here's the next one.  Can you guess what it is?

"Looking Through a Different Lens"  (another winner) by Lydia Ramsey,

Student Artist Honorable Mention

(It's an old camera.)

And you who know me well, know that

there's no way I'm going to bypass a "quilt."

"My Favorite Place" by Peggy McPhillips

Second Place Amateur Artist Drawing and Painting

Now here's a really pretty girl.  She did a ceramic chocolate connoli, plate and fork too.  (Worked with her mom, Lynn at the VA.)  Here's a kid with real promise!

"Taste of Italy"  by Milana Manfredo

Student Artist Fine Crafts Second Place

AND NOW, LAST, BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST

DORIS ANN FREY'S PICK FOR

"BEST OF SHOW"

 

"Piano Lessons" by Amanda Trill

First Place Amateur Artist Photo/Digital

Amanda Rosan Trill (ART) wins first place!

Now you may be saying, "Well, Doris Ann, if that's your favorite pick of all, why didn't you buy that one?"  Well, I offered.  But Amanda Rosan Trill is a VERY DEAR friend. And I'm so blessed to be one of her favorite people, and she said I could "have it."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ok, Guys, it doesn't get much better than this. 

I love these kids. 

They're Great!!!

 

Copyright - 2012 - Doris Grant Frey

A NURSE’S CHALLENGE

 

Let me direct your attention to a horrible scene

That has all the aspects of a feverish dream,
One Friday, on Calvary, Like a hospital ward
Three men were dying, among them our Lord.

It was the worst case of neglect that was ever recorded,

These patients whose pains, Pontius Pilate had ordered.
On three hard beds, in the shape of a cross
Without a pillow or blanket, no nurse could endorse.

The one in the center, our attention should claim

Jesus of Nazareth, the chart gave His name.
Some cardiac condition, some examiners find
Excessive love for all mankind.

Now, you who are nurses, just listen to this

Unsterilized nails pierced His feet and His wrists,
And what about this for a cruel medication –
Vinegar and gall was His lips’ alleviation.

And His back was swollen from the blow that was dealt,

But no soothing ointment to lessen a welt.
No cold compresses were applied to His eyes,
The world’s greatest lover just hangs till He dies.

Not a grain of morphine, not a tourniquet set

As Mary’s son is bleeding to death.
Now don’t blame the Jews for this frightful neglect,
Our sins did it then, our sins do it yet.

This Rx of Jesus demands reparation –
It falls to you, nurses of this generation,
Whenever you see anybody in pain,
Just believe it is Calvary all over again.

And do for the patient, what you wish they had done

For that man in the center, who was Mary’s son.
It will thrill His angels; it will please Him too,
Just keep at it, your whole life through.

And when after death, your soul goes on high,
He will cap you again, in His home in the sky.
                                                     -          Author unknown   -

 

 

MISSOURI BAPTIST HOSPITAL SHOOL OF NURSING 1963-1966

I am front row, second from far right. 

I was so proud. 

Now it's 2012, I worked 45 years as an RN and every year

I grow more humble. 

T H E   Y   G E N E R A T I O N

You know we see a lot of yucky stuff about the Y generation.  And I agree way too many of them are tied up in knots with gaming etc. 

But I want you to know that I have faith in the younger generation. 

My third cousin Corbin, was just presented with honors in Mining Engineering at honors day SIU.  I’m so proud of him.

This morning at the pool I met another special young man.  I watched as he came in.  Me,  doing my 30 leg lifts, knee bends, stretches and other routine boring stuff.  The pool is full of us old people sloshing around just trying to keep moving, so to speak.  Young guy, comes in, not so tall, kind of thin, well built, looks sturdy.  Picks a lap lane, sits on the side of the pool and slides in.  I kind of like that cause lots of younger people think it’s important to take a running  jump, land bottom side flat on the water  and splash like crazy.

He turns around and lays a watch down on the side.  I’m supposing it’s water resistant, but maybe not waterproof.  (There’s a difference I’ve learned lately, trying to find one for myself.)   So, he turns and does some nice backwards shoulder stretches holding onto the pool side.  He doesn’t seem particularly anxious to get started etc.  He checks the watch again, picks it up, puts it down.  Turns around and takes a big breath and dives forward.  Next thing I know, he is underwater.  And he stays underwater and I can’t see him.  I see a few swirls where I think he is.  Then further down a few more swirls.  While I’m contemplating those swirls, my normal nursing anxiety starts to set in.  Where is he?  Why doesn’t he come up?  Is he in trouble?  Half way down the pool, those last swirls haven’t even spread out and his head surfaces at the opposite end of the pool, the 9 foot end.  I’m breathless and mouth hanging open.  He leans on the far end of the pool, doesn’t even look winded.  OK!  So I’m fussing with left knee lifts and extensions and contemplating what just happened.  He swam from one end of the pool to the other, length wise, underwater, without breathing!

OK, he rests against the far end of the pool, occasionally turning and looking at the clock on the wall behind him.  Pretty soon, I’m into the right shoulder stuff, since it got replaced last September.  He dives under again.  I quickly glance at middle of the pool clock.  The second hand is just 2 marks past the 5.  I try hard to keep up with where he might be under the water.  Those swirls are very misleading.  I’m trying to peripherally visualize the other end of the pool and keep up with the second hand.  I somehow manage to do it, he surfaces and the second hand is on the 9.  I calculate 18 seconds.  Wow!!

He surfaces, turns and leans on the pool side.  I still can’t detect that he’s pulling for air.  I’m hooked.  I start towards him, my noodle in front.  He’s studying the watch.  I get close enough to the lane rope, he looks up.  “Hello,” I say. 

He says, “Hi.”    I offer to work the stop watch for him. 

He thanks me, but says, ‘No that he’s not really timing what he’s doing’. 

So I ask, “What is that?

 And he says, “I have to be able to swim all the way down and back, twice.” 

I go, “Wow, that’s remarkable.”  So he says, “Well, it’s a test, I’m trying out for.” 

So, now I’m totally hooked.   I ask, “What is the test about?” 

And he says, he’s trying out for the Para Rescue Unit in the Air Force. 

Of course, I give him my total encouragement, tell him I think that’s just excellent and wish him the best.  Very polite nice young man.  He’s going to do something big, I betcha!!

Got some younger generation folks around you? 

Let them know the future is theirs,

then show them you care

and role model some decent values

and

watch out ! ! ! !

Copyright - 2012 -  Doris Grant Frey

St. Patrick’s Day, celebration of the patron Saint and the wonderful island of Ireland.  First thing I remember about St. Patrick’s day is literally ‘the wearing of the green.’  If you didn’t wear green on St. Patrick’s day, you got pinched.  Ouch!  And some folks really do enjoy pinching you.  Ha.  Anyway, I have been trying to gather my 'blog' thoughts and it’s been a while coming.

So today I took a drive up to Carmi to attend a meeting at the Baptist Children’s Home.  I took 57 North, then Rt 14 over to McCleansboro, going through western Franklin County and all the way across Hamilton County, into White County.  This is very beautiful country, typical rural Southern Illinois.  Miles and miles of pretty straight two-lane hard road.  Miles of beautiful farmland and beautiful dark green fields already bursting with promise of plentiful harvest.  You know you’re in the country when eight out of every ten vehicles (if you even see ten in a twenty mile stretch) are big working pick-up trucks.  Oh, and the other two are giant SUV’s.  You’re more likely to see a huge tractor or a corn planter or a fertilizer tanker.  Another way you know you’re in the country is there are practically no sign boards.  For about ten miles I saw one small sign.  It was for deer processing, not surprising at all.

Not far over the Hamiliton/White County Line, I noticed a sign for a church.  I made a mental note to stop by on the way back from Carmi and check it out.

Funny, I should find a St. Patrick’s church, on March 16, no less, and yearning for something special for my blog, I could not resist the camera bug.  So on the way back I got the sign in sight and made the turn.

Interesting sign. 

It’s a beautiful old building, 1839.  Of course, there’s a cemetery in front.  I was intrigued with the color of the front doors.  Green.  

So there you go, Green and St. Patrick.  Wow, what a great find for St. Patrick's Day, 2012!  Wasn’t even hoping for a green iris for St. Patricks  Day addition to the Iris Garden, but guess what ?

Bearded Iris 'Kiwi Slices'

So, “May the road rise to meet you.  May the wind be always at your back.   May the sun shine warm upon your face, the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again . . . May God hold you in the palm of His Hand.”  An old Irish Blessing.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY  to all my Irish family and friends and the rest of you, too!