We’re traveling, I set this up to post while we’re away.
I will catch up on all your blogs when I get home. Meanwhile, don’t worry if you don’t see much here for a bit.
And I hope the images of flowers from my garden make you happy.
A bit of a flower I used to have in my garden. It got pulled accidently one spring when I had help weeding the garden. I need to find one at a nursery and replant. I miss it’s little smiling face.
I don’t want to talk about this and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe no one wants to really talk about this, to leave our own biases behind and talk and then listen without interruption to the other side of the debate.
I wasn’t exposed to guns growing up. My parents didn’t hunt, I didn’t have any friends that hunted. I have cousins that hunt but I was never actively involved. The closest I’ve been was to walk by deer hanging in the back of a pole barn, and though the first time was startling, I didn’t have an objection, knowing they used every possible part of the deer as a food supply for their family and friends.
Tree peony at it’s peak.
Still, I’m not personally comfortable with guns. And sometimes that bothers me, because I don’t know how to understand both sides of the gun debate. I’ve even considered taking a lesson or two, in order to know what it feels like to shoot a gun. Though that feels a bit intimidating.
But I do question the need for the average citizen to own automatic weapons. And yes I know I don’t even know the differences between them. But weapons that allow a shooter to pull off multiple shots a minute, kill and injure so many in the first moments of an attack, well, I just don’t think those should be in the hands of anyone but active military.
Blue thoughts this morning.
We hear the arguments against banning assault rifles every time the topic comes up. The constitution gets waved and we’re reminded it guarantees gun ownership. And besides, we’re told, these weapons are already on the streets and we’d never get them away from the bad guys anyway.
But I don’t think the writers of the constitution, when they were giving us the right to bear arms, knew anything about the devastation created by an assault rifle. I doubt they could even imagine such a thing. Moreover, banning a certain type of weapon or accessory doesn’t ban all weapons, doesn’t take away a person’s right to bear arms.
And if we don’t begin somewhere, don’t attempt to make our country safer, then what?
Geranium looking for a bit of light.
Do we just continue down the road we’re on now, where every few months people, sometimes dozens of people, lose their lives for no apparent reason? People just doing their jobs, running their errands, going to school, seeing a movie, enjoying a concert? Attending their place of worship?
Do we just continue to watch the news, see their faces through a fresh sheen of tears, while inside giving thanks that it wasn’t someone we knew, no one from our family? And do we just keep saying, sometimes out loud, that someone ought to do something? And then let it slide from our mind as we go about our daily lives?
Virginia Beach victims, photo from the internet.
What will it take for people in this country to have an honest discussion about the whole problem. Not just the guns, I realize there’s a problem with our mental health system too, but guns can not be left out of the equation.
What will it take for all of us to leave our comfort zone behind, leave our assumptions and personal histories behind, what will it take for us to face this uncomfortable place where we sit across from family and friends with opposing views and just talk.
And then come up with some viable first step.
My bleeding heart is fading among the forget-me-nots. I am not immune to the irony of that.
Sandy Hook with it’s children and teachers lost should have been everyone’s last straw. That tragedy should have been the catalyst for change, but even that loss wasn’t enough for most of us to be brave.
It’s complicated. Change is hard. But this morning, as I wandered my gardens looking for a peace I didn’t find, I grew convinced we have to try.
Can we find the light?
Because how many lost is the magic number, how many shattered families are too many, what does it take for us to grow up and do the hard work to become a responsible nation?
Can’t we be the adults here and sit down with someone we know holds opposing views and talk? I think we have to.
It would be a start.
Forget-me-nots remind us to never forget.
We’re back home in snowy, cold, shades of white Michigan this evening. But I have so much more to show you from sunny, warm, colorful Florida, so let’s pretend we’re still there, shall we?
The front of Pinewood Estate.
I last left you with a tease about Bok Gardens, a wonderful place full of magical gardens, a winter mansion and an amazing bell tower. I don’t want to leave you hanging, so here we go!
We wandered under huge trees enjoying the azalea bushes that were in full bloom.
Bok Gardens is a 7 acre slice of heaven, including several types of gardens designed by Olmstead brothers landscaping company (the same that designed the gardens at Biltmore in North Carolina, and Central Park in New York City), a new children’s play and educational area, what seems like acres of azaleas, a Florida desert trail, and towering live oaks covered in lichen and ferns.
I’ve never seen red sugar cane before.
The home, built in the center of all of this beauty, was the winter home of industrialist Charles Buck (not Bok, I know, it’s confusing) from 1932 to 1945. After that it was purchased by a couple of families before being acquired by Bok Gardens in 1970.
The house from the back.
The house, with over 12,000 square feet, feels much more intimate than many of the seasonal homes of the wealthy back in those days.
Dining with color everywhere.
One of several bedrooms.
There wasn’t gold gilding, unlike many homes of this vintage, but there were plenty of wonderful details.
An ibis acts as a doorstop, holding up the heavy and intricate door.
Tilework acted as wainscoting throughout the first floor, and ran up the stairs to the less public rooms.
Beautiful tile covers the risers on the front stairs.
The floors on the main level were covered in handmade red tiles, each room with it’s own pattern.
One of many patterns of these tiles.
The docents told us the gardens were put in first, and then the house was built so that each area had a different garden view. Pretty spectacular.
Magnolias, azaleas and camellias were all in bloom.
And then there’s the bell tower, with it’s huge carillon and sixty tons of bells which are played regularly. It is absolutely stunning.
Glimpsing the tower through the trees.
There were two concerts the day we were there, one we heard as we wandered the garden, and another that we purposely sat and listened to.
Details of the top, the colors are beautiful.
Bok Tower Gardens is located between Tampa and Orlando, and I think time spent there is well worth the admission for you and your family. Kids can play in the kid garden and run on the lawns up by the tower.
Stonework at the entrance to the childrens’ garden and play space.
Parents can let the beauty wash over them…and I guarantee everyone will smile.
And after all that, we made it over to the Gulf for the sunset.
A pretty ending to a very good day.
I’ll post more about the beaches in another post. We did spend a bit of time walking those white sands. After all…it’s Flordia.
Door knob detail.
It’s always a great day to be a Tiger fan.
Friday we took in a Tiger game at their Lakeland spring training facility. Have to say it’s a pretty impressive stadium, and run really professionally, with lots of volunteers handling everything from checking bags, helping with seating and answering questions about the building and the team.
Field lights and palm trees.
We had great seats right behind the Tiger dugout, too bad the Tigers didn’t play very well.
Miguel made it to first base with this swing.
The second pitch of the game the New York Mets player hit a home run, and it was downhill from there. Miguel Cabrera, one of the Tigers star players came up to bat three times, managed to get on base once, but never scored.
He didn’t seem happy, and ran rather slow, just back from an injury that kept him out of the game most of last season. Still, it was cool to see him up close.
Not such a great
day.
The Mets just had better pitching, the score ended up 7 to 1.
Looks like another one of his 98 mph strikes. Sigh.
The one run Detroit scored was a homerun. That was fun to watch.
Giving thanks for the home run.
It would have been more fun to see today’s game against the Atlanta Braves. We hear the Tigers won 7 to 4, and Miguel hit a home run in the 5th inning.
Sigh.
But I can’t dwell too long on what we didn’t see, because today we saw an awful lot of beautiful. We went to two parks; the first was Hollis Park which is in Lakeland and sits on a beautiful pond in the middle of town with lots of water birds.
Just getting a drink.
And today it also had lots of runners as there was a 5K and 10K road race going on when we arrived.
It was already way too hot to be running, even early in the morning.
This little park is a gem sitting in the middle of town. Lots of beautiful flowering things…
Messing around with depth of field.
…koi in a fountain…
Looking for a hand out.
…and some very unique sculpture tucked away amidst the plants.
Sunshine made it glow.
It’s a wonderful little park, and there’s more to see than what I’ve shared. Maybe I’ll put together a slide show of the things that didn’t make it into this blog.
A green space filled with color.
For sure I’ll do a separate post about Bok Gardens, the stunning garden we visited in the afternoon, complete with a carillon and a winter estate home built in the 1920s with wonderful winding paths through azaleas and camellias, and huge mossy live oaks.
Enter here to see the 1920s home.
And then we made it over to the Gulf of Mexico just in time to see the sun set.
Another beautiful day comes to an end.
I’ll share more about all that in the next post. Right now it’s time to get some sleep, tomorrow is our last day in the sun.
Better rest up!
Enter here to see some beautiful craftsmanship. Next post.
“Doesn’t anyone cook anymore?” I asked my husband as we stood in a long restaurant line after 7 p.m. on a Monday evening. We were, actually, there because I didn’t want to cook. Apparently not a unique position.
“But you usually cook,” he replied and I felt better somehow.
Now I wonder if cooking could have more than just health benefits. If you stretch your imagination a bit, think outside the box, maybe cooking could help fix what ails our country.
From the garden.
Don’t discount me immediately. That’s one of the problems we all have right now; we make instant decision about what’s right and what’s wrong before we hear a person out.
I have lots of time to think as I’m chopping and dicing, stirring and folding, preparing food for dinner. Today I’m making the marinara sauce for tomorrow’s eggplant parmesan.
And I’m thinking as I’m chopping onion and garlic that the problems facing our country, and the world, are so huge, so unsolvable, so much bigger than me. That I really have nothing to say that could change anything.
And yet.
I’ reading the articles and listening to interviews that point out people who stay silent are in fact condoning the hate and violence we all witnessed via twenty-four hour news this past weekend. Incidents that we’ve seen on other days too, prior to this weekend, and what we will likely witness in the days ahead.
I know I’m late to the table, but I don’t condone those hateful, racist, violent actions. I’m quiet because I don’t know what I, an individual, someone who hates politics on a good day, can do? What difference can my voice make?
It’s clear to me that the talking heads on television and on the radio aren’t going to fix the problem. The panels of people they bring in to ‘discuss’ the issues are entrenched in their own opinions, are spewing out the party line, give nonsensical answers to hard questions. Nothing is going to get resolved by watching their arguments.
And no one watching is going to change the minds they have already made up.
As I continue to chop and stir I contemplate the hateful events of the weekend, the political responses. The lack of response from me. And I realize that the only thing to change a person’s mind is talking, really talking, to another person.
And what better place to talk than over the slow preparation of a healthy meal?
One person listening to another person without forming judgement. And then having a chance to quietly, with logic and care express an opposing opinion. And continuing that discussion over the meal thoughtfully put together.
Getting to know someone who is different than yourself takes time and work and sometimes the overcoming of fear. But that’s the only way to make change in the world; getting to know people who are different than we are.
Chopping and thinking.
Oh I know the hate filled members of many white supremacist groups aren’t likely to have a calm discussion with anyone. They’re looking to escalate the hate. But there are plenty of people sitting on a fence about many of these issues, people that maybe voted in a different way than you or I might have. People who might feel strongly but may also feel a little doubt creeping in.
There are people from different religions with different ideas, people from different cultures, or just different upbringings who have ideas that deserve to be shared. Everyone has a story, and each story adds to the strength and value of all of us if we only listen.
There is actually much a quiet person like me can do.
So as I put the eggplant dish together I think I’ll push myself outside my comfort zone. I’ll try to stand up for that person getting bullied, voice another opinion when I think it needs to be heard, invite someone I don’t know to engage in thoughtful debate. I’ll stop reacting to Facebook politics, for either side, because that’s too easy, too anonymous and only reinforces opinions deeply held on polar opposite sides of any issue.
Lots of different flavors all stirred together in one pot.
And while I’m trying to understand the other side of some argument, maybe I can put together a simple meal and sit down and talk about it . Without rancor, without despair, without judgement.
Maybe a discussion held over a healthy meal won’t change anyone’s mind. But maybe it will. And at worst I’ll get a good meal, one I don’t have to stand in line for on a hot summer Monday night.
Maybe what our world needs is a food revolution of a different kind.
Summer hope.
