If you are interested in journaling to help reduce your blood pressure, do some research or consult a therapist for suggestions.
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What's not to love?
June is part spring and part summer. The days are long and warm. The nights are mostly cool and comfortable. No need for a furnace or an air conditioner.
Midsummer takes place in June. It is celebrated around the world and has been for thousands of years. Traditionally, it falls on or near the summer solstice.
Bonfires are a common way to celebrate Midsummer. Everything from running naked through the streets to throwing wreaths of flowers into rivers, lakes and streams are part of the festivities worldwide.
In Canada, National Indigenous People's Day is celebrated at Midsummer. June 21st has been designated as a day to recognize and celebrate the culture and heritage of the First Nations, Inuit and Métis people.
I've never celebrated Midsummer, but now that June is my favourite month I'm thinking that I should celebrate this special time of the year.
My celebration would definitely involve strawberries and rhubarb...sounds like pie will be on the menu. Can't do a bonfire in my backyard, but a floral candle ring wreath would give a nod to two traditional Midsummer traditions. I could round out my celebration with some indigenous music. It sounds like a wonderful way to celebrate my most wonderful time of the year!
June is drawing to a close. I'd better get busy!
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It's June and that means things are really starting to happen in the garden, especially with the roses.
If you are
creating something that needs whole roses, like a wreath, you
will want to dry your roses hanging upside down from a line. This will ensure
that the blossoms don’t dry drooped over.
Your drying
line should be somewhere that doesn’t have a lot of humidity. It should be out
of the sunlight to prevent fading, preferably someplace dark. There should be
some air circulation. I dry my whole roses in the basement. I have lines strung
between the rafters and there is a dehumidifier down there to help with the
humidity.
Pick roses
that are almost, but not quite fully open. Your roses should be dry. Mid-morning
is usually a good time for picking. Cut the stems about 6” or 7” long. Strip
the leaves if you wish. Use an elastic to join two stems at the ends and then
hang the pair over a line.
Your roses
should be dry in about two to three weeks.
Many rose
projects just require rose petals. Choose dry, just opened
blossoms. Again, mid-morning is a good time for harvesting. Cut a rose from the
bush with a pair of pruners. Hold the base of the flower or the stem right up
next to the flower and gently twist off the petals. Spread the petals out on a
piece of paper or a drying screen. Try to keep the petals from touching each
other. Leave them to dry in a dark room with low humidity and good air
circulation. Rose petals will air dry in a few days to a week.
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I also use
my dehydrator to preserve rosebuds. I use rosebuds to add some
texture and visual interest to my potpourri. I pick rosebuds that are showing
colour but have not yet opened. They take a bit longer than petals to dry but
will still dry within a day in the dehydrator.
My
favourite colour of rose is pink; however, I don’t have pink rose bushes in my
potpourri garden. Over the years I have found that red roses dry truest to colour.
Pink or white roses often dry with brownish edges, which just doesn’t have the
visual appeal of a nicely dried red rose.
Store your dried roses, rose petals and
rosebuds in airtight containers in a cool, dark place with low humidity. Whole
flowers can be wrapped in acid-free tissue paper if you wish. I generally don’t
store whole flowers for long. I either display them in a vase or use them for a
project.
Drying
roses is a great way to preserve the beautiful blossoms that grow in your
garden. Dried roses on stems are lovely in a vase and look great all winter. Your
dried roses, rose petals and rosebuds can be used in a wide range of projects,
including potpourri, eye pillows, wreaths, clay face masks,
bath salts and rose water. Air drying roses is a simple, cost-effective way to
enjoy your rose garden all year long. Give it a try!
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If it weren’t for love, I’m imagining that the sad times wouldn’t be so sad and the happy times wouldn’t be so, well, so happy. But they are and I blame it on love.
It’s been a crazy year for everyone, all around the world. My little corner has been no exception.
My mother died earlier this year. She was 90 years old and old people die. I get that. I struggle with the knowledge that she was not only ready to die, she wanted to die. Her cause of death was not wanting to live anymore, and I find that difficult to understand. Maybe she just got tired.
I think of my mother to have been somewhat like a phoenix, rising from the ashes time and again. She had a difficult childhood, but she rose above all of that and made a life for herself. She loved and buried two husbands. She raised four children and loved us all and then loved three stepchildren, too. She struggled with depression but loved herself enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other when times were tough.
I was her first born and I know that she loved me even before I was born. She loved me when she ironed the shoelaces on my baby shoes, and she continued to love me all through my life. I think that she probably still loves me. I still love her.
My mother didn’t always know what love looked like and she didn’t always get it right. I blame that on her childhood. She tried, though, and she kept trying and she kept loving. That counts…a lot.
Loving can be painful. The shards can rip through your heart. The cuts are deep. The scars are messy.
Inevitably, loving means losing. Loss happens in lots of ways, but when the one you love is gone, you grieve. You grieve for what was. You grieve for what wasn’t. You grieve for what could have been.
When my dad died, I remember thinking that it never really hurt less it just hurt less often. Then one day, it did hurt less. Sometimes that takes weeks. Sometimes it takes months. Sometimes it takes years.
Moving through grief is never easy, but sometimes you get to sing lullabies.
Four months after my mother’s death, a little man came into my life. Weighing in at 9 lbs. 6 oz., Thomas John, my new baby grandson, arrived on a summer’s eve.
Life would never be the same.
Thomas’ early months were a whirlwind of medical appointments. I was the chauffeur and health advocate. When we weren’t on our way to an appointment, my grandson and I got to spend a lot of time getting to know each other.
From the early days of walking, bouncing and singing lullabies to more recent times when I have quite literally walked for miles and miles pushing his stroller, chatting up a storm with and singing more lullabies to this amazing little creature, the lullabies and the love have slowly tempered the loss.
I still grieve the loss of my mother. I still miss her. I still sometimes cry when I think of her.
Things with Thomas have settled down. He amazes us daily and we celebrate the milestones – first Christmas, first word (Mama), first bow tie, first solid food.
On one of our recent morning walks, I took along a small lap quilt that my mother had made for me many years ago. It was a cold morning and I wanted something to throw over the stroller when Thomas fell asleep.
As I walked along looking at the quilt, I thought about my mom. I thought about the fact that a quilt that she had made was now protecting the great grandson that she had never met. I didn’t know whether to smile or to cry, so I did both.
I have someone new in my life to love and to whom I can sing lullabies. Sometimes it helps with the loss and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes, life is just complicated.
I blame
it on love.
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