Carpe Diem -- or "brain engaged... please call back later"

Among the many stories you no doubt heard while growing up is one from Aesop's fables, "The Ant and the Grasshopper." (The illustration shown here is from a book retold and illustrated by Amy Lowry Poole.)

The characters, hard-working ants and a laid-back grasshopper, demonstrate different philosophies of life. The ants collect, save, and store for the months of not-so-plenty while the grasshopper takes it easy.

The idea behind this story is that you must plan for the future. Even when life is good and the going is easy, you should plan ahead. Make sure you have the necessities of life for the times when the going gets rough. Because you can probably guess who was watching out for the grasshopper's well-being, come winter.


On the other hand, we also have stories like that of Frederick the mouse, as told by Leo Lionni.

Frederick's family is gathering food to prepare for the hardships of winter. Frederick, in the meantime, spends his time observing. One fears for the little fellow, seeing a parallel to the above mentioned grasshopper.

Yet when winter comes, Frederick is with his family, sharing their stores. When food becomes scarce and the future seems cold and bleak, Frederick shares what he has been gathering: memories, the colors of spring, the warmth of the sunlight, the smell and feel of a kinder environment. He transports the others through words, imagination, and hope, helping them all to survive until spring returns.

And so we see both sides of the story: planning and practicality are necessary, but imagination, creativity and hope are no less essential.

As we in the northern hemisphere reach the middle of the summer season, parents and children alike are nudged to get ready for school. Autumn will be here before we know it! Get those books and pencils, notebooks, school clothes. I begin to have mental images of leaves changing color, football games, and plaid skirts and knee socks. Hmm. P.L. needs a new sweater, and maybe a different winter coat, this year. I wonder if it's too soon to go shopping.

Yes, we need to be thinking ahead. But it's still July. Summer thunder rumbles through the windows some nights as we go to sleep. During the day, the sun is shining through the leafy green trees. Squirrels are playing in the back yard. Wild strawberries are blooming, and honeybees are buzzing through the clover growing along the path. And in the evening, we sit on a swing in the back yard to talk, listening to the gentle chorus of crickets and cicadas, complemented by the occasional young frog.

This season has certainly not been all fun, but it will never be here again. This will be our last chance this summer to dig in the garden, splash in a kiddy pool, wash the dog in a tub with the garden hose. It'll be the last chance to walk to the library down the street to check out a family movie and/or a storybook before it's time to worry about homework and soccer practice. It could be the last time to get away from the phone and the TV, and to read Pride and Prejudice on a quilt under the old oak tree.

Be an ant and collect the tangible treasures of the season. Be like Frederick and store the best memories of another beautiful year in your life. But don't be pressured into wishing your life away. Today is the only day you can be sure of having, so don't forget to live it.



As you can see, on this sky blue t-shirt from Artist at Work, our girl P.L. is planning to seize the day by reading a book out under the tree, smelling the freshly-mown grass, listening to the mockingbirds in the branches nearby. She says it's a good vacation for her brain. And I know it's a summer memory she plans to savor for years to come.

We have our standards....

Welcome! Y'all come on in and have a seat. Or we can sit on the swing out on the veranda and enjoy the breeze coming down from the hills. Have a glass of frosty lemonade and a delicious slice of strawberry shortcake.




Where I come from, gentility and manners are commonplace.
Ah, southern hospitality.
But not everyone gets it, you know. Some folks have the strangest notion that if you come from the hills, you haven't got much sense.

Oh, pooh. That's hogwash. Where I was born and the way that I speak have no influence over my I.Q. And even if I am not a Nobel Prize winner, I'm still a nice person, deserving of some respect.

One of my favorite personal stories to tell is of a college trip to Washington, DC, a few years ago. We were all art students, headed to see the museums and architecture of our nation's capital city during cherry blossom season. It was sunny and eighty degrees (F) outside, perfect for sightseeing. Somewhat unfortunately, feminine fashion at that time included jelly shoes.
After a day of walking, I had to take them off as we walked back to our hotel. I jokingly told my companion, "If people give us funny looks, we can just tell them I'm from Kentucky."



In my time, I have been called a Beverly Hillbilly, a Kentucky Fried Chicken, and a resident of Dogpatch.

Very funny, guys. Only did you ever think that maybe I would rather be associated with brave Scarlett O'Hara or the sassy Designing Women?



So please forgive the dreadful language found on the front of this lovely summer top from Lorilei's Artist at Work. Sometimes strong language seems almost appropriate under the circumstances, and this was just one of those times. We shall not abide insults.

If someone ridicules you for your accent, or calls you a hick or a redneck or a hillbilly, just tell them that frankly you don't give a -- I mean, tell them even if they think you are from "Hillbilly Hell," you have a sense of class, dignity, and respectability. You have your own standards, and they simply don't make the grade.




Y'all can acquire elegant tops, t-shirts, hoodies, mugs, hats, and myriad quantities of other gear from Hillbilly Hell at Lorilei's Artist at Work, in the Just for Fun section.


Don't be a stranger!