what would you do?…if there were no more days left?

Posted on June 24, 2012 by hugmamma

After lunch and browsing the aisles at my favorite garden nursery, Molbak’s, my husband and I decided to take in a movie at the iPic Theatre. Yes. The same one where the seats recline and cocktails are served. We opted for the normal seats this time, not wanting to doze off, even for a few minutes, as we did when we saw Men In Black 3.

Two Weeks (The Office) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Scanning my cell phone for movies at nearby theatres, the only one of interest starred Steve Carrell and Keira Knightley. He’s funny; she’s a beauty. The title seemed to spell…light entertainment, Seeking to Find a Friend for the End of the World. My favorite movies are ones that make me laugh. If there’s romance, all the better. Hubby’s okay with chic flicks…now and then. Especially since I’ll go with him to action films…now and then.

Neither of us was prepared for what we saw.

Dodge, Carrell’s character, is abandoned by his wife at a stoplight when the radio announcer reminds listeners that the apocalypse is bearing down upon them in the form of an asteroid. Apparently she’d been having an affair and decided to end her days with her lover, rather than with her husband.

Penny, Knightley’s character, is distraught that she’ll never see her family in England again. She regrets having wasted her life with loser boyfriends.

When friends and strangers alike seem hell bent on re-enacting Sodom and Gommorah, the twin sin cities from the Bible, Dodge and Penny flee the scene. He promises to help her get home to her family; she returns the favor offering to help him find his first true love, a high school sweetheart who writes him a letter of regret for having dumped him way back when.

I won’t give away the whole story in the hopes that you might go see the movie yourselves. The twists and turns are unexpected, oft times funny, sometimes touching.

The bottom line? Given a short time to live before the destruction of the world as we know it…how would you want to spend those last days? Would you want to wear everything of value like one character who donned her fur coat, diamond tiara, bracelets and necklaces, and attempted to seduce Dodge? Or as another character did, would you screw every woman you could…just because? Or like a third character, would you hire a hit man to help you commit suicide.

While the images above seem bizarre, you have to wonder what it would really feel like to face armageddon, the final apocalyptic battle between good and evil? According to the Mayan calendar, isn’t that suppose to occur on December 21, 2012?

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World made me think…and wonder…and decide…what’s really important to me. But is that how I’ll feel when and if, the end comes for all mankind? Can I be as certain of myself when times are good…as when times are horrific?

…what about you?…

………hugmamma.

…time to exhale…getting away…

Posted on April 13, 2012 by hugmamma

It was heavenly to escape the hammering, buzz-sawing and drilling for a few days. A nephew’s wedding in tulip and daffodil country was just the getaway I needed after weeks of preparation for our master bed/bath remodel. Never mind that the tulips have not yet made their much anticipated appearance. The longer than usual winter season has kept the delicate buds hovering underground for warmth. I’d join them if I could, although my cozy abode suits me just fine.

Wedding cake (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Spending several days in the company of family who are like best friends was the icing on the cake, wedding cake in this instance. Hawaiians “go with the flow.” Louise and Milton epitomize the laid back island tendency. Doing whatever is fine with them, which is totally in sync with my husband and me. That they enjoy browsing antique stores and retail outlets was a happy coincidence.

Much to my husband’s chagrin, every inch of our SUV was crammed full of luggage and new-found treasures. Thank goodness for side mirrors because his use of the rear-view mirror mirror was totally obliterated. Thankfully great friends and sunny weather kept my husband from focusing upon his inability to see out the back of the car.

: Molbak’s outdoor eating (Photo credit: burienundressedblog)

Spring has probably sprung throughout most of the country. It takes a tad longer here in the Pacific Northwest. While I’m excited for the warmth and sun, I know yardwork cannot be far behind. I’ll have to visit a favorite destination, Molbak’s Nursery in Woodinville, to rev myself up for the inevitable weeding that comes with good weather. Wish I could just transport their gardens to mine. It’s safe to say this will remain…just a wish.

Molbaks' Orchids (Photo credit: JHall159)

…how’s spring…where you are?…

………hugmamma. 🙂

swedish hospital…a 5-star resort?

Posted on July 14, 2011 by hugmamma

Hubby and I had a date Saturday…touring the brand, spanking new Swedish Hospital in the Issaquah Highlands. We thought we’d make a quick stop, check it out, and be on our way to our real destination…Molbak’s Nursery, gift shop and cafe in Woodinville. Well, we never made it to see the flowers, plants and knick-knacks, or lunch among the lush foliage. Instead we wandered around the new hospital with thousands of other curious tourists to what seemed like a resort, not a place where the sick and maimed go to be cured and put back together again. I’m sure I wandered around, my mouth agape the whole time. We were all like children in a new candy shop, sampling everything with our eyes. I wasn’t the only one who was bug-eyed either.

Walking through glass doors which parted without hesitation, I immediately saw a Starbuck’s to my right…already with a line of people. No small wonder there. Tucked in the corner between the cafe and the front door was the restaurant. Visiting it later, I saw that it was on the caliber of any good dining destination in the community at large. Viewing the grandeur of the Pacific Northwest through the surrounding glass walls would also be a treat…a very calming one for sure.

Wandering further inside through what felt like a grand foyer, a reception desk sat to the left, and next to it a staircase leading to the second floor. Straight ahead was the bank of elevators, and to the right, past Starbuck’s was a gift shop. Rather, I should say, a mall of shops. After touring the floors above, I spent some time wandering in and out of the several stores. This is probably when I most felt like I was not in a hospital.

What appeared to be the main gift shop was lit up with a beautifully handrafted chandelier made by a local artist. Directly beneath was a table also crafted by another homegrown talent. In fact, most of the items in the shop were made here in the Pacific Northwest according to the shop’s lovely manager. She spent a few moments of her time talking with me, smiling all the while. A definite asset to what could be an intimidating environment for some. After all, this was still a hospital.

Walking through an oversized open doorway into the next shop, I delighted in seeing all manner of gifts for newborns and toddlers. Some items I’d never seen elsewhere. Across the way was another, very large, retailer selling exercise clothes, lingerie, and if I’m not mistaken, some maternity items for expectant mothers. One fun gift for you or someone else was a “snap” watch for around $16. The salesclerk kindly showed me how it operated. She stretched out the watchband, snapped it across her wrist, and “voile!” the watchband wrapped itself securely in place. What don’t people invent these days?!?

Down the hallway, next door to the shop with baby gifts, was a small studio for yoga classes. The nice volunteer offered information on how I could sign up for classes. Of course, it involved the internet. What doesn’t these days? Evidently I can check out the schedule for times and styles of yoga on the Swedish Hospital website. I might have to do that. I’ve always wanted to take a yoga class on a regular basis. Good for the body…and mind.

There were doctors, nurses, and technicians milling about to answer any questions. It was amazing to see so many of the staff smiling and relaxed. I’ve usually only seen them hurrying off to tend to patients. And I mean hurrying! Hopefully they’ll continue to smile once they get back to business as usual. I like smiling medical staff. They calm my nerves. Wouldn’t they make you feel more comfortable? They would me.

In October I’ll be having a colonoscopy and endoscopy done by Dr. David Patterson, Medical Director of Gastroenterology at Swedish. I met up with him again at the open house, after having talked with him a month or so ago at our initial consultation. Originally from New Zealand, he retains very little of his accent. Having lived here in the States for 35 years, I can understand why. Dr. Patterson’s ready smile and easy “bedside” manner goes far in steadying my nerves for the impending procedures. Knowing he sees many people in the course of his practice, and having met me only once, I was amazed that he could recall who I was as throngs of people were milling all around us. The key to unlocking his memory about me was that my daughter was a ballerina. We’d discussed it at our first meeting when he asked if I had children. Of course, ask a mom about her offspring…and you’ve got a friend for life. Well, let’s see what I think after the doc goes to work on me in the Fall. I’ll let you know then…

Meanwhile I’ve only good things to say about the new Swedish Hospital and their staff. They’ve served me well for more than a decade, the doctors and nurses, that is. Oh, and the ER team at the old facility. Between my husband and me, we’ve seen them a few times over the years, for various and sundry minor crises, which seemed somewhat major at the time…episodes of asthma, pains mimicking a heart attack. You know, the usual.

The new Emergency Room check-in looked like that in any 5-star hotel. But that’s as far as we went. I’m hoping we won’t have to see the rest of the ER anytime soon. Unfortunately we didn’t do any of the tours offered. The one to see the surgical facility had a line of people the length of the hallway. Since hubby and I were on a “date,” and we’d already spent a couple of hours sightseeing, we decided we’d seen enough to convince us that the hospital was pretty much just what the hype was all about.

it’s what the doctor ordered…and it’s just fine by me…hugmamma.

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“sun’s out!,” time to plant?

Posted on January 19, 2011 by hugmamma

What a difference a day makes, even here in the Pacific Northwest! The sun’s rays are showering down on all the tree tops; glistening raindrops hanging ever so delicately from the twiggy branches of the apple tree. It feels like spring. Yet I have to remind myself that the calendar on the desk top reads January 19. No scurrying out to weed or plant bulbs. I did that when we first moved from the east coast 13 years ago.

Having left icy winters behind whose last dregs were not gone until Memorial Day, I was elated to find that here in the Seattle burbs my garden began to show signs of new birth in February. So I got outside and sloshed around in the mud, oft-times kneeling in it to pull out unwanted stuff, and replace them with finds I’d discovered at Molbak’s or Squawk Mountain Nursery.

I wallowed in early spring, in the sunshine, in the sweet smell of new growth. I loved the sun warmly beating against my bent back, as I toiled away in the dirt. I am my mother’s daughter, I’d think to myself. She left me her “green thumb,” and she’d be proud at my constant use of it, even when I lived in Redding, Connecticut.

Friends, neighbors, and passersby would often comment upon the lovely cottage garden that surrounded our small, Victorian farmhouse. I strived to outdo myself each year. But my loveliest memory is of the abundance of wildflowers which grew from a packet. I sprinkled its contents on either side of the walkway leading to our front porch. Never one for math, I overlooked the explanation that the seeds were to be spread over a larger area than where I’d chosen.

It seemed forever before the blooms all emerged. But as they filled in, overwhelming the space in which they grew, I was like a child experiencing nature’s glory for the first time. Every morning I’d bound out the front door, which slammed shut with a loud bang. I’d walk the path, oohing and aahing at the varieties, the colors, the scents. I couldn’t count the number of wildflowers peeking out from behind one another. I tried picking favorites but gave up, because en-masse they were all beautiful!

Soon the bees came calling. And the butterflies, tiny ones and Monarchs, began congregating in my garden. Nearby, robins and finches twittered and chirped in the massive, overhanging, rhododendron shrub. Being careful not to get stung by a busy bee, my husband, daughter and I would plop ourselves down on the porch steps or an outdoor bench. Gazing upon Mother Nature’s handiwork, we were enthralled by what she could do with one inexpensive, little packet of seeds.

Those among you who are gardeners, probably know the ending to my story. Yes, it didn’t take long, perhaps a few weeks, before happiness turned to sorrow. With the first heavy downpour, my glorious, little garden nearly drowned in the onslaught. Hardier flowers were able to lift their heads once more, but the more fragile were too frail to pick themselves up again. I tried for a time to help, leaning some against others for support, propping others up with twine and stakes. Before long I too gave in, digging up the whole mess, save for a few that didn’t “throw in the towel” like me.

I replanted with specimens that were tried and true. Though the results were lovely, they never recaptured that brief moment when our house and its front path looked as though Cinderella and her fairy godmothers lived there, or Snow White and the seven dwarfs, or Red Riding Hood’s grandmother.

Throughout the first decade of her life however, my daughter loved the first home she ever knew, and all the flowers that grew in its gardens. And so, while I could never replicate my cottage garden fantasy, I’ve continued to make my garden here my own. I try very hard to follow planting instructions, but I’m still inclined to want every plant that I fancy to have a home with me. Grumbling to dissuade me, my husband is usually won over, and moves plants to make room for a new neighbor, or two, or three.

But thank goodness my energy’s maxing out as the years pass, for my garden space is maturing as well, meaning that it’s maxed out too. Although there’s still that wild, unkempt patch of brush at the top right of our driveway. I Wonder what I can do there? Hmmm…

it never ends…nature’s beauty, i mean…hugmamma.