Yesterday Was a Long Time Ago

I said please don’t ever buy me flowers

I don’t care about that

They’re expensive and all that

And I meant it

Truly.

I would much rather have a sweet note

Or a steamy poem

Like you always used to write.

Or a stroll down the path,

Hand in hand

With that hand that could make me swoon

With just a tickle of a finger in my palm

These weren’t like the tired old oh brother

of a bunch of red roses.

Obligatory hot house tokens

of supposed true love.

(Or at least the typical lusty hope 

That something might come of this

With flowers involved.)

But the thing is

Now the notes don’t come anymore

And the fingers rarely fumble for mine

Along secret paths.

So some flowers every once in a while

Might still make me believe that you

Well, you know,

Things I used to

Believe

When no flowers were needed

And the hand could make me swoon

Sometimes I’d like to find him

And tell him about you.

And hope that one of you writes me a poem

Or picks me some daisies

Or at least buys me a hothouse waste of money

So I could believe again

And snuggle in

To the fragrance of 

Extravagant waste

For extravagant love

© 2025 Laurie Sitterding

*This poem was selected for publication on Poets Online. 

https://poetsonline.org/archive/arch_floriography.html

Quiet Miracles

My near-daily walks with these little guys is one of the quiet (though not unrecognized!) miracles of my life right now. Four generations of us—some combination of iivo and me, my dad, EV, Ronald, and these little boys—traipsing around this neighborhood we’ve lived in for most of the last four decades. Paired with three dogs and a large double stroller, we’re quite the scene, I’m sure!

Buy You a Dress So Pretty

My daughter OG has moved into her sister's old room. (EV has moved into a new room, in a new house, in a new life, in a new town, with a new name... but that's another post for another day!)

One of the things OG is doing is to decorate the room in a Victorian theme, which includes a picture wall of old black-and-white framed photographs of family members. It is beautiful...both the room, and the photo wall!

When my aunt—my mother's sister and my daughter's great aunt—mailed her the old black-and-white photos, she stuck in a couple of color snapshots from my childhood. Among them was this gem:

Good heavens, Mom! Buy me a new dress, already. Put that thing I'm wearing on my sister, and buy me a new one, so we might not both look like, well... Hmmm... I don't know what to call that...

(Oh, and doesn't my cousin John look thrilled to be photographed next to his obnoxious little cousins visiting from out of state?!)

This picture makes me cringe and smile, all at the same time. Kind of like most things in life I look back on with a fresh, new perspective from the future...

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*Entry 7, July - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is a line from the song "Pouring Rain" by David Stewart.

The Last Day at the Beach

The Last Day at the Beach. That's the title of this achingly beautiful song from William Ackerman. I can't listen to it without getting wistful. This year's family reunion beach week has been the first year that we have had more high school graduates among our children than not... four to three! One of my daughters is married, and her husband joined us this year. (Welcome, Ronald!) One of my sister's daughters is engaged, and her fiancé joined us this year, too. (Nice to finally meet you, Crawford!)

There's been lots of fun and feasting... sunburn... beach volleyball... ukulele... feasting... rain... Avengers and Jurassic Park (must. get. ready. for. sequels!)... feasting... Taboo...  Nanny's cakes (coconut, chocolate chip, rum, and poppy seed)... new pups ("Finley and Chewie, meet the cuzes!")... biking (and even a bicycle built for two!)... feasting... donuts from Duck Donuts on National Donut Day... skim boarding... freezing produce... "Farkle!"... boogie boarding... feasting... hot tubbing... coconut rum fruity drinks and Mike's hard lemonade... The Dugger Interviews (isn't the world talking about anything else?!)... feasting... shopping... reading... Pictionary... corn hole... rain... feasting... Heads Up! charades (thank you, Ellen!)...

The list of fun memories, far from complete, makes me smile... and I list it to keep me from crying. Every year, as the week comes to a close, I am amazed at how quickly it has flown, and how fleeting time is. Our children are growing, and we are growing old, and there's nothing we can do to slow the hands of time. Another fun week is coming to a close much too soon, and we ignore the approaching goodbyes that will inevitably prick our eyes come morning. Goodbye, Beach Week 2015. (Such fun you've been!)

Until we meet again next year...

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*Entry 6b, June - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is that of William Ackerman's song by the same name.

The Beautiful View Outside My Window Today

On a Bicycle Built for Two

These two sweet cousins get together once a year, during our annual beach week family reunion getaway on the NC shore. They've been almost inseparable for the entire week, every summer that I can remember--and this year they even got to go biking on the same bike! Such fun!!

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*Entry 6a, June - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is from the classic children's song "Daisy, Daisy" (aka "A Bicycle Built for Two").

Birth Day

Today, the delightful woman who made me a mother turned 21. She and her new husband, Ronald, came over after church for a birthday celebration meal. (Each child has always gotten to choose the meals on his or her birthday, and even when you're married and moved out, that's still the deal. This year's choice? Home-rolled sushi followed by spaghetti with homemade meatballs. Hey, I don't plan the things...I just cook 'em!)

When my sweetie little-girl-all-grown-up came in, she handed me these beautiful flowers.

"Happy birthday!" she said.

"It's not my birthday. It's your birthday!" I replied.

"Yes, but you did all the work!"

Amen to that--and your sweet self was worth every minute of the pain!

Happy birthday, dear EV. I blinked, and your childhood was over. Happy first-time birthday where my home is no longer yours. I'm so very proud of the woman you have become!

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*Entry 5, May - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is from the "most recognizable song in the English language." And here is a super fun article containing five fun facts about the Happy Birthday song.

Now His Life Is Full of Wonder

Today is my son PT's birthday. He is not here to celebrate with us the way he has every year of his life to this point, which is eating his favorite foods--whatever he's chosen for the meals in any given year, and whomever he's chosen for us to share them with.

And even though he is a freshman in college this year, he isn't spending his first-birthday-away-from-home in a dorm room, either.

No, this year, he and some friends have taken a Spring Break road trip to Colorado. Not a bad way to spend your birthday, I'd say. (Beats the view around here today, that's for sure!)

Happy birthday, PT! Hope you're having a blast!

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*Entry 3b, March - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is a line from the song "Rocky Mountain High" by John Denver.

Let My Hair Grow Wild and Free

I received the following picture from my son today. His declaration: "So apparently my hair gets really poofy when it gets long."

That, and you suddenly look a lot like Andy Samberg...

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*Entry 3a, March - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is a line from the song "Find Me" by Margaret Becker.

Happily Ever After

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*Entry 2, February - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge 
The title is a line from the song "Happily Ever After" by Case. (This song is an R&B love song, not a style I usually like much, but the words are fun!)

Spaniels!

I received the following photo texts from my daughter OG today:

Just randomly settling himself on a plastic bag...

With his little toy

All comfy

Isn't our little Finley adorable?!

A Visit from Across the Miles

A decade or so ago, some dear folks moved here from Germany to spend a couple of years working in the States. We met them in our neighborhood park and became fast friends. Last night this dear man arrived on our doorstep, here in town for a few days with business. Our son PT was great buds with their Max during elementary school, and our "baby" girls, now both 14, used to share a weekly play date when they were 5. Too bad they couldn't all come!

Ulrich said something during his visit that rings so true to me: "There are some people that you can not see for many years, and when you do see them, it's like no time has passed at all. You can pick up right where you left off. I believe that this is what heaven will one day be like." Amen to that!

Hoarding

A message from my dad, the puppy caretaker while we're away: "That's a little mound of toys piled on his food bowl."

I guess he's missing us and not sure when he'll get his next meal while we're gone. Poor little guy!

Not a Cheesy Card

I have gotten some pretty terrific gifts for my birthday this year (including the much-needed laptop I'm writing on right now!), but my favorite present by far has been this poem my husband presented to me last night. It is as much a tribute to Williamsburg and our alma mater as it is to me. We've long called this town "the center of the universe"—and, for us, in some ways, it is.

I am so grateful for such a dear companion to walk through this life together!

Not a Cheesy Card

On these streets,
Among these trees and houses,
Where leaves rustle and a carriage rumbles by,
I fell in love with you...

Where old porches and new shoppes,
Old traditions and new ideas,
Godless pride and Holy worship breathed among old stones,
I fell in love with you...

Magnolias and pines,
Delis and waterside parks,
"We were young," "sure enough," and "ready for the storm"...
I fell, fall, falling, keep falling...

Your mouth, your kiss
Your hand, your hair... you... beautiful...
Your neck, all else, the universe centered, or so it seemed...
Fell, fall, falling.  Keep, keep falling...

Our little homes, growing, then not...
Your belly, growing, then again,
Our children, our loves...
But I still fall, falling for you...

Your hand,
Your hair,
Your mouth, still... you... more beautiful...
Falling... further... still...

You are my true love and I will cherish you until the very end.
I am... really... still... falling... in love with you

© 2015 Iivo Sitterding

Maybe pick a different pair?!

Looking for bridesmaid shoes is hard work, and every once in a while you just need a fun break...

Apparently even big girls still like to play dress up!

Just a letter to mark a day...

Dear Laurie,

Your "good manners message" was received here with raised eyebrows and sharpened attention. Do things like this still exist? I lost out on a date once because I tried to open the car door for her. I had her coat rudely ripped out of my hands when I tried to help her with it. Without a smile, she pushed past me and knocked me into the door post when I tried to enter the restaurant first in order to ensure it was a place suitable for her visit. Etc. And over the years I settled for the thought that what we had learned as good behavior did no longer count in the modern world. But none of the girls who went against my grain in these small ways became the grandmother of your children. Now, after your message, I fear I have a long and hard upward haul back into a mode where I was when I left dancing lessons in senior high, hovered there for a while, then slowly began to slip – once, again, and again. Thanks for the eye opener.

Still with the warm memory of our transition into the new year, I am slowly recovering from the cold that I brought to you from Sneads Ferry. Not that anyone there gave it to me – no, they all remained untouched, but I picked it up there, because I had it during the short day-and-a-half here before I started out to come to you, and almost did not. I hope I did not deposit it in your house? And as things begin to look better through the burning and tearing eyes, old plans come back to life again. Originally, I thought to get a birthday card for you up there, but as things developed, this plan was shattered. Then I thought to make up for it by getting one here and mailing it, but, under the restraining grip of the bacterial assault, I missed this connection, too, and now am forced to send you my greetings through this uncouth media of digitized mail.

There is, however, in considered foresight, a birthday greeting from me "hidden" in Opa's room, between the little book shelf and the wall in the far left corner when you come through the door. Oh, you found it already! It is, as you must have read from the label, a (ask Google) – a round basket made of natural cane, used to proof bread dough before baking. I saw those offered by Bob's Red Mill when I ordered a shipment of 5-grain cereal, and since I remember these things from way, way back, I got me one. That last bread I baked before Christmas, of which you tasted and declared good, was proofed in one of those baskets. The first rise of that dough was scarily ineffective, and the second also totally unsatisfactory. That's when this first basket came through the mail and I washed it and dried it and threw the dough in it, covered it with a towel, and let it stand – and wouldn't you believe it, it rose to more than double its size after all the stress it gave me at first! Back then, when you tasted the bread, I could not tell you about this for fear to give away my plans for your birthday.

Now, one such story proves nothing, but I am looking forward to your own story of resounding success. May it give you joy in providing your family's daily bread. 

The use of this ancient baker's helper is remarkably simple: flower the dry mold liberally, place your dough in it (it has a capacity for a two-pound loaf), let it take its final rise, and simply dump it onto a baking sheet or stone or whatever you use to bake, this last area prepared the way you always prepared it in the past. Generations of bakers have graduated with these things and the result, including the distinctive pattern on the finished loaf, will assure many more generations making use of it.

In this sense, I wish you a great birthday, and great days to follow. May health and wealth and happiness be yours tomorrow and always.

With love, Opa

From stock like that, how could my man not be terrific?! It is so wonderful to be known, and gifts when I feel most known are the ones when I feel most loved. I'm so excited to try this new dough-proofing basket! Thank you, sweet Opa! Many happy returns all around!

Yappuchino

Check out this clever Christmas gift, made by my daughter EV and given to our Finley from his litter-mate brother, Chewie, her pup:

A New Benchmark

Once upon a time, there was a young family with two young children. The mother was home all day with her preschoolers, and money was very tight for anything besides basic necessities. One day, that woman found an inexpensive outdoor bench at the local Big Lots store. Made of wood and metal, it was a sturdy bench that would serve them well for a long time.

Fast forward almost twenty years. That bench has stood in the front yard, the side yard, the garden, and--for the past few years--on the back deck. Over the decades, the wood has faded, then cracked, then gotten a little green with mildew in spots, finally beginning to rot away in places. The young mother remembers sitting on that bench in the front yard, watching the two- and four-year-olds ride their scooters around while she was in labor with her third child. Each little chubby leg of her four children has, over the years, hoisted itself up into that bench to sit and visit for a spell.

That woman, of course, is me, and about a month ago, I asked my father-in-law if there was any way to clean the wooden slats of that bench to restore it to some semblance of beauty and functionality. He looked it over and broke the news that it was probably not worth the time or trouble that it would take, but that he would see what he could do.

You can't even imagine my surprise and delight to receive this wonderful Christmas gift from sweet Opa! He had taken the bench apart and carried three of the pieces--the curved top, one of the seating slats, and one of the side pieces, home to his workshop. Instead of restoring them, he was replacing them--with beautiful oak pieces lovingly carved and fitted to the frame. He even saved and remounted the original metal plaque that had adorned the old one! I absolutely love it!!

This is what was waiting for me on the back porch during his visit this last week:

This bench was never this beautiful, even on the day it was first purchased almost twenty years ago. And though it has certainly accumulated a lifetime of memories since that time, none has been so precious as this lovingly crafted, hand-wrought makeover. Thank you, oh thank you, dear Opa!

May we sit on it, doing life and memories together, for many more years to come!

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*Entry 1, January - The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge
The title is inspired from the song "Benchmark" by Dave Burland.

The 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge

Yesterday was the 12th Day of Christmas... and thus, the official end to the 12 Days of Christmas Blog Challenge.

It's the one time of year I force myself to blog every day. I love the exercise of writing... of capturing the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my head, and organizing them into something that makes some modicum of sense... of sharing those thoughts, however dull they may be on any given day, with those who care to read them... of chronicling the mundane and the ordinary from our daily-day life, and thereby--if only occasionally--hallowing it as something extraordinary. It also forces me away from the tyranny of the urgent and back to the truly important, so often overlooked in our daily-day busyness!

Therefore, for a second year, I am committing to continue throughout the year with the 12 Months of 2015 Blog Challenge. The rules are simple:

1) Blog at least once each month, sometime during that month. (You may post to an actual blog, if you have one. If not, compose a note to be published on Facebook, or simply write it out longhand and share it with at least one other person. Whatever works for you. Just grab your thoughts, organize them, capture them in words, and share them with at least one other person.)

2) Give your blog post a clever title, using the title of or a line from a song. (Identify the song at the bottom of the post.)

3) Include a photograph you took to accompany your post, if at all possible. ("If at all possible" is the caveat for those of you who don't take pictures, or don't own a digital camera, or don't use a smartphone, or don't look at life with a photographer's eye... But maybe 2015 is the year to learn to do just that! Look for ordinary miracles in your days, and capture them. Look at life with gratitude, and express it. I'm planning to, and I know that it will change me!)

Won't you join me?

"There are thousands of thoughts lying within a man that he does not know 'til he takes up the pen and writes."    ~ William Makepeace Thackery

Oh What Fun It Is!

One of the super fun things we have done this Christmas break is learn a new game... and we have played it a lot! Why? It's really fun, it's easy to learn, and it doesn't take very long to complete a round. The educator in me also loves that it forces practice with numbers and quick computation.

I really think something was lost when electronic gaming became all the rage. Board games have become all but obsolete, along with the fun interaction with a group that they involve. We're old school, and we still love them!

My parents first learned this game when they went to visit family in Tennessee for Thanksgiving. They had such fun with it that my mom bought it for my dad for his stocking at Christmas. We played it for the first time at my parents' house on Christmas Day, after the feast. We got hooked and played it as a family several times in the ensuing days.

When Iivo's dad came to visit for a few days around New Year's, we played with him, too. Not much of a game guy beyond Scrabble—he doesn't love the ruckus and silliness that sometimes accompanies group games—he told us afterwards, "That game is really fun...especially if you're playing with a congenial crowd." (He's probably right about that last point. We don't have anyone who got gloaty and mean when they were winning—nor anyone who got upset or pouty when they weren't—and everyone was pretty good-natured if they found themselves suddenly being trounced and left in the dust. With this game, it really is all in good fun!

The game is a dice game called Farkle, and it is available for pretty cheap at WalMart and places like that. We didn't buy it, however, because you don't really need to. You're better off spending your money on a good (read: quiet) dice cup and some nice dice. I typed up a version of the rules by consulting online, and I used my handy home laminator to make nice reference cards to use during the game. That's all you need, really: six dice and a copy of the rules. I'm happy to share the one I typed up, if you're interested. I also typed up score cards (for up to ten players) for everyone to use—two to a page—since we make everyone who's playing keep score for all players. Yes, it's more math practice, but it also helps with strategy for your turn if you know how many points each player has at any point during the game.

The only thing I can't provide for you is OG's signature exclamation, whenever someone rolls a farkle and loses all their points. Something really is missing, for us, when she's not playing, and no one calls out this happy and funny little consolation:

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*Entry 12, The 12 Days of Christmas Blog Challenge 
The title of this blog post is from part of a line from the Christmas classic "Jingle Bells."