Hello Dear Readers,
I have finally figured out how to add pages to my blog. Had a bit of an issue having them show up on the main page. Now, I must think about what to put up on these additional pages. In the mean time, they are sort of in a test mode, so please be patient with me. I do not want to post anything on them just for the sake of posting.
I am looking forward to adding some more inspiring pictures, thoughts, and maybe a few surprises.
I appreciate your support while I get this all straighten out and set up.
One more thing, if you have any suggestions, I would me more than willing to considering them.
Thanks again for your continued interest in my blog. I feel truly grateful for every view, comment, and acknowledgment.
Your Dear Friend,
Marilu aka, Peace and Harmony
After surviving an Earthquake and a Hurricane this week, thought I would share with you, dear reader, some beautiful rainbow roses. I do hope you enjoy them.
They seem to be symbolic in a few of ways. First, they are beautiful, which is what each one of us are. Second they are unusual, which all of us are. Thirdly, they seem to be miraculous because of their rarity, which we all are; miracles.
My thoughts and prayers go out to all of you have have suffered any type of loss during this crazy week of what seems like Mother Nature’s Wrath. Hoping you can find some peace of mind sooner rather than later.
There are those among us who share freely and those who do not. There are those who give without hesitation and there are those who do not. There are those who have not much to give but do any way and those who have more than they could possibly need and choose to hoard it all away. The way in which people share or not reveals a lot about their character.
First, I’d like to speak to sharing in literal terms concerning tangible things. These things that we posses that others would find great joy in having a bit of it. For instance, an old family recipe, divisions of plants from your garden or it’s bounty, a bottle of wine, or even a homemade meal (to name a few). These may not seem like great gifts, but if they are given and shared with love and kindness, they are treasures just as you are for doing so.
Some other things that are shared are items of means, such as a transportation, a job opening lead, financial assistance, advice on how to do something, or a new friend with common interests.
Then, there are the most important gifts we share: the ones in which come from inside ourselves, for instance our minds, our hearts, our passion, our vision, our guidance, and even our time. All of these things are intangible and priceless.
When you happen upon individuals who for whatever reason cannot find it in themselves to share in any of the ways stated above, you will notice that they do not posses kindness of heart. They will tend to be the first ones there to take from you (and others) and the only thing they seem to be able to share easily are lies and sad stories. This is a pity. They know no peace, They know no connection. They are too wrapped up in themselves to consider others. By all means, please try as best you can to stay away from this type of person, for they will leave you feeling drained and confused.
Whatever and whenever we choose to give to another, the payback is tenfold. It comes to us in the satisfaction of helping someone (or in some cases, many) out. The joy of sharing brings peace and harmony to everyone involved during this type of transaction.
So if you are a sharer, please continue and know that in doing so, you bring comfort to others. And if you find that you are not accustomed to sharing, please give it a try. Step out of yourself for a moment and give freely of yourself, whatever it is. I guarantee wonderful results. Be careful as to not overindulge another, as this can turn out have a negative affect on all involved, leaving you resentful and them needy and spoiled.
In closing, please let me say that I am always grateful for these opportunities to share with you, dear reader, my thoughts in these posts with the hopes that you may find peace of mind in each one. Thank you!
My parents are here on their yearly visit. They usually stay with us 3 weeks, give or take. During this particular, visit we’ve been fortunate enough to celebrate their 50th Wedding Anniversary as well as Father’s Day. Every time they come to see us my dad makes his obligatory 200 meatballs. Yes, that’s right, it’s a tradition.
Coincidentally, today being Father’s Day, he is making his meatballs this afternoon aided by my daughter (his assistant). My mom and I will be making sure that all the items needed for this process be laid out and at the ready for him before he makes his way downstairs and begins his labor of love. My son will probably show up (from staying at a friends overnight) just in time to eat them. And the wafting smell will lure my husband up from the basement from whatever secret experiment he is currently conducting down there.
This labor of love is one of the most anticipated and appreciated gifts we receive from my dad, steeped in the Italian tradition of how food equates to love. You see, for us, by cooking for someone you are expressing your love and affection toward them. My dad loves to cook for us and he gets great joy from the looks on our faces as we savor every single bite of whatever creation he has put forth. Today, it is his meatballs!
This is a multi-sensory gift. The process itself of the collecting of ingredients and laying everything out, the conversations during the preparation and cooking, the savory aroma that fills the house for days, the unforgettable taste and texture, and the big smiles all around and the hugs and kisses of appreciation.
When they are all done, we will package the remainder up in plastic freezer bags for use at a later time. Long after our bellies have recovered from overfill. Long after the smell has dissipated. Long after he has gone back home. Each time we open a bag, the memories and the love come right out and sustains us till the next visit. The next meatball bonanza. The next warm hug and kiss. The next time we see dad.