Coffee in December…

It’s that time again when most of us wonder where the past year went and how fast it zipped by. In just a few weeks, we’ll be drinking champagne and kissing at midnight, ringing in a new year, 2023. Decades ago, these numbers sounded straight out of The Jetson’s! But before the bubbly and the kiss comes Christmas, a Christian holiday for those of you who celebrate the birth of Jesus. But another jolly soul arrives, too, Santa, so you know what we need to do…shop!!

And if you’re looking for a gift, specifically, a lovely book that can be read in one sitting or savored by reading one poem or story at a time, look no further, my book, More than Coffee, may just be the perfect choice!

To give you a little peek inside the pages, here are some wonderful reviews:

By Sally Cronin Delightful collection of prose and poetry reflecting on a life

This is a delightful collection of prose and poetry reflecting on a life tinged with sadness but also a great deal of love and humour. The author celebrates moments from her early life and marriage of over thirty years with stories that will entertain and also bring the reader’s own experiences to mind.

Sometimes it is the simplest things that evoke the warmest memories, such as a silver cutlery set, a toy frog called Sam, a yellowed kitchen chopper and the first time baking a traditional family birthday cake.

We are invited to concerts as a teenager overcomes self-doubt to solo in front of an audience of 2000 and fulfil a dream inspired by her idol Barbra Streisand. There are moments with spiders that might have you looking around your immediate surroundings, but you will also find yourself in some wonderful wilderness areas offering moments of reflection and a dip in a mountain pool.

Love is a central theme beginning with her mother and father’s love story that endured for nearly 70 years having begun in WWII with all its uncertainty and lengthy periods apart, and the author’s own fateful meeting with her husband, involving a kitchen appliance!

The loss of parents, even after a long and wonderful life, leaves a hole in our hearts. Their stories and poetry dedicated to them in this collection are heart-warming and reinforce the extent of their loving influence on the generations that followed.

The final part of the collection reflects on the changes that come when children leave the nest, and whilst this is obviously a time of sadness, there is also pride and delight as new lives are forged with future adventures to look forward to.

I enjoyed all the stories and poems in the collection and I am hard pushed to pick just one favourite but this one touched my heart.

Simple Existence

I stare at this page, milk white as the
blanketed ground in winter’s staging
where are the syllables?

I fear they have flown to faraway places,
across desert dunes and boundless oceans
and might not return so that I may tell him
(again) how irreplaceable he is.

Instead, I’ll touch his lips with mine
and steady myself in the arms of a man
who is satisfied with my simple existence.

I can highly recommend this collection to read in one sitting or to dip into when you are in need of gentle and uplifting moments.

By Jane SturgeonMore Than Coffee: So Much More Than a Memoir of Verse and Prose

I loved every word in this book. Scott’s style and loving expression took me into the heart of life and to what truly matters. Her thoughts of Wil, her father-in-law, are compassionate and delightful in equal measure. Scott’s love for her family and the life she and Matt have built for their children shine through. Belonging and Riding With The Wind are two of my favourite poems.

More Than Coffee is a delight from start to finish and I highly recommend it to anyone who needs a dip into the magic of life.

By Robbie CheadleA bright ray of sunshine

This lovely book is a mix of a memoir about the author/poet’s life with some beautiful freestyle poems included after each prose section to enhance the emotion and moments shared. The memoirs are relatable and cover delightful memories of family brought back through inherited items and stories shared by family members as well as the author’s own life experiences including achievements, romance, parental love, and overcoming fears. The author’s personality and humour comes through strongly in her writing and poetry, as well as her joy and pleasure in the simple things in life.

My favourite poem in this collection and the one that summarised for me the spirit and essence of this book is Fulfilled.

Fulfilled

Let me drink from the gaze in your eyes
Eyes that have me wildly mesmerized
Mesmerized under their vivid piercing spell
Spell which only you many cast over me
Me, with a heart madly in love
Love, a whirlwind of euphoric emotions so true
True in not only our hearts, but in our minds
Minds, fully aware of their endless thoughts
Thoughts so amorous of us entwined

Now, if after reading these beautiful reviews, you find your interest is piqued, simply click on the Amazon link above, and Magic! Your copy (or copies) will be on its way! 🙂

So, I will end by saying that through the poems and stories in my book, I hope to inspire you to see the beauty around, to feel gratitude, to face challenges with verve, and to trek through that fear knowing you will find the light. I invite you to pour a cup of your favorite roast, or your preferred beverage, sink into your favorite chair, and enjoy the the rich taste while turning the pages. My wish is that you’ll find even a little nugget that resonates.

Thank you for reading, and I offer my utmost appreciation to you who have enjoyed my memories, and to those of you who have written reviews.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, MERRY CHRISTMAS,
AND HAPPY READING! ❤️🎄❤️

Beneath the Big, Golden Sun

He was their hero when they were young,

teaching of nature beneath the big golden sun.

They tried on their packs before feet hit the trail.

He’d say, “Be prepared or else you could fail.”

The trio trekked down paths and up inclines, too,

pausing along the way to admire a flower or two.

After arriving in camp, they helped pitch the tent,

stakes in the ground, windows unzipped to vent.

As an Arborist, he educated them about trees

under the blue sky beside the buzzing honeybees.

He pointed out poison oak, a beautiful, green leaf,

“But if you touch, you’ll need itching relief!”

They explored the ground seeking burrowing bugs.

He expressed praise with words and loving hugs.

When the sun faded at the end of a day,

they roasted marshmallows, found dominoes to play.

His first goal was fun in nature, then came self-reliance.

Their minds were like sponges, soaking up the science.

Now they reminisce for the best teacher he was

and recall the bonding with the deepest of love.

Now he’s proud of them, adulting and doing it well,

honored with the memories, the special stories to tell.

© Lauren Scott, baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

A Little Bit More

She’d sit on the landing,
long hair cascading,
her little friends listening
to her read about Paddy,
Peter the Rabbit, and
The Three Little Bears.

My mind still can’t fathom
that this moment wasn’t
just yesterday
when she loved to create
her little delightful worlds.

Now, a beautiful woman
giving life her best
with an open heart
and a smile bright
as a field of sunflowers.

But geography intervenes…

And yet, our phone chats,
well, let me just say,
we make up for lost time!
Three hours later,
what could we have
possibly gabbed about?

Everything, and most
likely, a little bit more.

She knows the amount
of residence
she claims in my heart.
Then again, it is quite
difficult to quantify.
It would be like counting
the display of gleaming stars
in the vast evening sky.

© Lauren Scott, baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

A Text in Seconds

My thoughts on Sunday, April 25th, 2021…

Dear Mom, I know you’re listening from above, so I need you to know that I’m sorry for moving in and out of the house so many times, for putting you through that emotional turmoil. Although, I couldn’t have known back then what you were feeling, but I understand now. I realize how much your heart ached. The emptiness, the thought of your youngest leaving the nest. The strong wish to protect and keep me safe. I’m walking in those shoes now, dealing with the discomfort, and honestly, it’s not a trip to Disneyland. But I know in time, the discomfort will lessen. I don’t think it will ever disappear for good, but I know I’ll feel more at peace as the calendar pages flip.

Those were the days when my parent’s door was revolving – when I strived to find my way into the vast world outside of their home. Today, our youngest, our son, left home for the first time. Not for college, not for his internship, but for a taste of independence. The caveat is that his apartment is across the country. He’ll live closer to our daughter and son-in-law who also live on the east coast. And while this fact brings joy, I still wish their paths could have been paved on the west. Maybe someday. Or maybe, we’ll uproot and head east. The future remains a giant neon question mark.

The weekend prior to his leaving was spent with the three of us, my husband, him, and I celebrating this new adventure, as well as ours as empty nesters. Great food and wine, nostalgic conversation that at times provoked tears. Then today came. We knew it was inevitable. The day that he would begin his drive across country alone. Fortunately, his first day of driving would only be four hours, so he didn’t have to leave early in the morning. This gave him time to relax, to take one more look around the house and make sure he packed everything he needed, and to walk our dog with me one last time. He has never liked being in photos, but since this occasion rings differently in that he’s moving away, he conceded to selfies of the both of us once we reached the top of the hill, along with photos of him and his lab.

Then just as he was about to start his car for the first leg of his journey, we took selfies of the three of us: mom, dad, son. Smiles, funny expressions, all concealing the tears of what was about to come, the hugs and the “see you later.” Talk about emotions! But we got through it, and then we watched him back out of the driveway and wave to us as he rolled down the street, embarking on this exciting journey. My husband and I let the tears flow in the drama of the moment.

The pros of technology come in handy when our son can send a text in seconds, telling us that he arrived safely. Those few words including “love you all” with a heart emoji allows us to breathe again. That was his first drive. Day One. He’ll have six days of driving across country where the seventh will be the day he is handed his new apartment keys. A moment of joy, celebration, adult independence, but also nostalgia, knowing he’ll miss us, his dog, and his childhood home. It was tough for our Labrador because his doggie brain doesn’t understand the words his brother says to him. Giving those last hugs to his chocolate lab tugged at the heart. If only our beloved pets could speak our language. During the day, our lovable lab meandered into our son’s room. I have no doubt, he not only sensed his brother’s absence, but he sensed something had changed today. As smart as our furry family member can be, I’m sure he felt the profoundness of it all.

The quiet in the house is LOUD, but we know with time, the volume will soften into a sense of normalcy. Walking into his bedroom, the bare walls and empty shelves incite a wave of emotions that hit me like a tsunami. As we anticipated the day he would leave, we selfishly begged for time to slow down. Now, moving through the week to day 5, he is on his way to visit his sister and brother-in-law. We are thrilled that our kids will get a chance to visit. But we also wish for time to speed up, for him to safely arrive at his new home, the final stop on the road trip.

Two more days to go. I have never felt such an affinity for my cell phone before as I wait for his text messages to ping each evening. The tears flow less frequently now that he is over the hump of the week, but they’re still very much present, finding their freedom every now and then. They fall out of joy, from missing him, and from unleashing the tenacious worry. I feel as if I’m holding my breath while he continues to blaze through the many state lines. I’ll be able to exhale once he arrives and embraces those keys in his hand.

On the opposite side of the emotional spectrum, we are so proud of him, so excited for him to walk through the door of this new chapter. It’s what we’ve always wanted but knowing the moment of him leaving home would render tears and emptiness, too.

Eventually, my husband and I will embrace this empty nest for the precious gift it is to us now as a couple, and for what it means regarding our children – a gift from them as they are able to live life to the fullest in their adult years. We will find our new rhythm through the new empty nest chapter in our family story. And we couldn’t be more excited to make memories in their new homes. Let the journey continue!

I posted about this soon after he moved out, but It’s been over a year now. He’s settled into his new life and so have we. Between flights, phone calls, and texts, we stay connected. Yes, we miss him as much as we miss our daughter, but the silver lining is that they’re living their lives, spreading their wings, the natural progression of life. We couldn’t be prouder.

Lauren Scott © ❤️
If you can relate to this scene,
the “see you later”, the emotions,
and new life chapter,
I’d love to hear about it.

Tender Reminiscence

Remember in our younger years
how you’d touch your lips to mine
while standing on the step
when we cold-shouldered time?
No letting-go desire of the
embrace that held us near
No care in the world was matched
in that moment that we shared
Who knew those doorstep kisses
would carry us this distance?
(floating in a state-of-mind
of tender reminiscence)

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
Do you have memories
of doorstep kisses?

Tiny Treasures by the Sea

precious works of art
remain forever priceless

as time ticks away

rocks and shiny shells
of all shapes and colors bring
joy to childlike hearts


sandy shore offers
troves of tiny treasures for
imaginations


smooth-as-silk green glass
in clay molded with fancy
edges shows vision

paintbrush through fingers
brows furrowed, concentrating
cherished masterpiece

tiny hands create
a piece of art, melting the
heart decades later

Lauren Scott (c)
Our son made this
when he was little,
forever priceless.
❤️

In Technicolor

A time so long ago,
yet the memory
in technicolor…
I want to rip the page
from my mind’s
photo album,
because my heart
was foolish
to fall for that man,
our skies different
our dreams astray,
but the heart’s pulse
beats to a tune
of its own choosing,
never inspired
by logic,
nor will it ever be
shatterproof.
But this man wasn’t
a cockroach.
I never wished
to stomp on him,
like others
who preceded.
And so, I’m grateful,
for without that page
I wouldn’t have
stumbled
upon the path
that led me
to my love at last.

Lauren Scott (c)

The Old Afghan (with audio)

Each purl stitch was interlaced
with love from the touch
of her gentle hands.
She, the teacher,
me, the student,
as our bodies
sank into the big sofa
checkered in a
seventy’s palette.

For a new teen,
my love for her
went unmeasured.
Now, fully immersed
in motherhood
after three decades,
the mom role is
clear as plate glass,
how heart and mind
require flexibility
,
the juggling
of many hats.

Her wisdom mingles
with my thoughts
so often that I whisper,
“I get it, Mom.”
Teardrops of love
struggle for freedom,
grief clutches at my heart.

Autumn browns, reds,
yellows, and oranges
from that afghan
warmed memories
over the years,
but at some point,
my novice knitwork
must have slipped a stitch
because those warm shades
unraveled through the seasons,
crafting a hole in the center

that mirrors the chasm in my heart
from missing her.

Lauren Scott (c) 💗

The Sandwich

I go light on the mayo,
add some Grey Poupon,

layer sliced tomatoes,
pickles and cucumbers,

pile on leaves of romaine
for the final touch,

in between two slices
of whole wheat bread.

The kids are adults,
living on their own.
It’s just hubby and me at home.

Yes, I still make lunches.
I have mastered “the sandwich.”

From turkey to tuna to egg salad
or chicken, to this new veggie delight.

Suddenly, I’m standing in the kitchen,
my kids are little, small shoe sizes
by the door, Lego on the floor in
his room, barbies scattered in hers,

the days in the nineties
when peanut butter and jelly ruled.

I should tally all the peanut butter jars,
jelly flavors or jam, if you prefer,

and slices of bread that
were consumed back then.

The hustle and bustle of early hours
on school-day mornings,
kids tossing a coin for the shower.

Hair dryer working overtime with her long
thick mane. He and I, donning various
hats for our roles as cab driver, cook,
teacher, counselor, hugger, father, mother.

I shake my head, smiling,
in the present on a workday.
I reach for an apple
.

Tomorrow, we buy!

Lauren Scott (c) 2022
Photo: Pixabay
Some fun for a Saturday smile.