Today was picnic day at Conestoga Gardens…our secret garden (actually, it’s everyone’s "secret" now). It’s been written up in magazines, like "Better Homes and Gardens," and various newspapers and periodicals. So what started as our secret garden eight years ago is now a mecca for those who long to have a green thumb and a garden like the Conestoga.




We packed a light lunch and picnicked by the pool, took in the rose garden, the water lilies and roamed the expansive mansion at our leisure. The Conestoga Gardens is owned by the Steinman Sisters who are the heirs to the Lancaster Newspaper, but their philanthropy extends beyond just the newspaper. They open their home—to the public once a week so that others can enjoy the grandeur of this tropical paradise.

I snapped photos of roses, children playing in the animal topiaries, and water lilies.

Taking photographs is one of my passions; I feel like a new person when I return home...like I have been on an extended vacation.

If you’re ever in Lancaster County, I’d love to take you to our secret garden.

Boxes, Boxes, and more Boxes!

My friend came over this morning to borrow a book from my “lending” library (I don’t know why they call it that because somehow they never make it back where they came from). I really think it should be called the “forgotten” library!

“Mary” (not her real name) looked around my office and said, “I thought you weren’t moving until next year.”

I calmly replied,“I’m not moving; I’m cleaning out folders from my filing cabinet and putting them in storage boxes.”

“Who in their right mind has that many folders?” she asked.

Can you see my face turning red?

First of all I want to explain something: Yes, I do have “that” many folders because I’m afraid if I throw something away, I’ll need it the next day. So I have a large storage space in the basement for “said” folders.

The problem: I can’t move them (shoulder injury) and Mark can’t carry them (broken hip). So here they lay in “neat” little piles all over my office.

Last night, I had a great thought (it happens occasionally). I ran (hobbled) into the office to write it down before I forgot it, and tripped over not one, but TWO boxes. I kicked the third!

This afternoon the boxes are taking a hike…I don’t care where they land, they’re just going. Jon comes home tomorrow from house sitting (only because “it” has a pool). And when he gets all dried off, I’m grabbing him to do some box work.

Yesterday, the neighbors put in a new deck and fence (actually, it’s been ongoing for three weeks). Pound, pound, pound...saw, saw, saw…buzz, buzz, buzz! This morning I looked out the window and guess what? More boxes. They left all the boxes from the new fence in “our” yard.

I’m running away from home today, not because I want to BUT because I have to. I have deadlines and I’m tired of staying up until 2:00 AM to get them done!

When the boxes find a new home, I’ll come back and live happily ever after. Maybe!

More Fireworks!

Did I mention I love fireworks as part of my summer fun?

Tonight our neighbor lit off some leftover Fourth of July fireworks. We laid on the front lawn and watched the sky light on fire.

I used my flash setting designed specifically for fireworks (I never knew I had such a thing!).

Do you think we can start all over again (Fourth of July in August?).

I guess not.

Oh well, here they are, let me know which ones you like best--okay?



This is not what I'm supposed to be doing this evening...back to work!

Summer Fun!

Summer is my favorite season! I’m a summer child born in August; my sons were also born in summer (June and August) so it’s ONE BIG birthday party from June to August. But more than that, I realize it’s a season that passes by too quickly because I’m busy writing and getting ready for speaking in the fall. But I take a “breather” every once in a while and make myself go outside, workout at the pool (LA Fitness), and watch Jon’s baseball games.

This morning, I realized this is Jon’s last summer with us before he goes out into the BIG BAD WORLD of living on his own (and trying to figure out how to pay for school loans if he isn’t accepted into law school). Yikes!

Last week, we watched his baseball game with threatening thunderstorms.
I kept an eye on the ball and on the sky, wondering when it would break loose (but it didn’t…just got windy and dark).
Sitting on the bleachers in front of me was a precious gift: two little girls playing “slap.” The wind was furious, so they used rocks to hold down their miniature playing cards (it didn’t work too well!). I remember playing the same game with my sister when I was their age. I was so absorbed in their card game (and who was winning); I almost missed Jon’s homerun!
See what I mean…so many things to see and do!

Yesterday a church contacted me for a speaking engagement in the fall and wrote back: “We didn’t find anything about your family on your Web sites. Could you tell us more; we’d like to include it in our brochure!”

Isn’t that awful…my summer “babies” have all grown up and I guess the saying is true: “out of sight, out of mind.” But the truth is, I love my family, my boys and their girlfriends, and we do spend a lot of time with each other. So it threw me off a little bit when it appears that I don’t talk about them…so here’s an update:

Jer is dating Danielle (she is a school psychologist). Jer is finishing up his Masters this summer and will graduate in the fall. He teaches high school World Cultures (which only makes sense because he was raised in Sicily and had to grow up too fast). As with all firstborns, he was our “experiment” and we think he turned out quite nicely (considering we made ALL our mistakes on him!).

Jon is dating Kim (she’s going to York Penn State), and will graduate a year behind Jon. Kim is an equestrian and LOVES horses and LIFE. She and Jon have been dating for over a year now, and when Jon graduates in the spring of 2009 I will be expecting an announcement of some kind (come on guys…I need some grandchildren, but PLEASE get married first!). Jon recently got to hold Kim’s niece that was born last month and I laughed when Jon said, “I held ‘it’!” I’m sure he won’t be referring to his children as “it” (smile!).

Mark is improving daily…his physical therapy is a test of the wills. When the therapist says 10 reps; he does 20. I had the same physical therapist with my shoulder, so they are used to the “Pombo” determination. But more is not necessarily better; in fact, I realized yesterday after doing my pool therapy that I pushed myself too hard and today my ice bag is my constant companion.

Summer fun will soon give way to travel in the fall: I will fight the airport traffic, the delays, and learn to travel lighter (I bought a new stock of 3-ounce bottles). But until then…more baseball games, dinner “al fresco,” barbecues, and summer walks with my hubby!

Soldiers like Dave!

Do you know a soldier who returned from the war in Iraq?

We do…he’s our next-door neighbor!

A soldier who enlisted at the age of 18, Dave is now just 23 years old. But he has seen more in his short life than any of us can possibly imagine.

When he first moved in, the neighbors “talked”—as neighbors sometimes do! Dave was quiet, kept to himself, rarely talked, and only spoke when getting the mail or tending to his garden. He was recovering from severe leg injuries that almost required amputation of his left leg. And while at Walter Reed Naval Hospital when the news was given that he would most surely lose his leg, his young wife left him. She didn’t want to be married to a “cripple.”

Dave was devastated. Not only had he served two tours of duty in Iraq, saw too many of his fellow soldiers die in combat, but now he was fighting for his own life, and—yet—his wife still wanted a divorce.

In the spring of this year, my husband walked over to Dave’s house and asked about some shrubs that he had just planted. It was the beginning of a growing friendship. Every day, Mark watched as Dave transformed the front and backyard of his home into “Paradise Lost.” He put in waterfalls, ponds, two decks, a fire pit, and totally transformed the corner lot. Then he set out to revitalize the neighborhood: he landscaped his neighbor’s yard, landscaped our front yard, the corner lot, and built another deck for a friend. Now when you turn the corner to our street, it looks like “Better Homes and Gardens.”

Dave grew up with gardening. His father owns one of the largest landscaping companies in the county. But when asked why he does what he does for free. He responds, “There’s something about seeing beauty come to life.”

Out of the ashes of his life—horrors unspeakable—this soldier stands as a proud beacon to our freedom. The “unknown soldier” is a welcome part of our neighborhood: the rumors have FINALLY stopped. Sure, there are still some folks who don’t accept Dave, but that’s their loss and our gain!

Dave was instrumental in my hubby’s recovery from his broken hip: Everyday he brought over his beloved lab, Sage, as a therapy dog; took Mark fishing in celebration of his “move” from the walker to the cane; invited us over for barbecues and most importantly, gave us a beautiful view out our front window—a reminder of what God can do in all of our lives…"trading ashes for roses."

On this Fourth of July, we will spend the afternoon in Dave’s tranquil backyard, grilling steaks, and then go to a nearby farm to have our own private fireworks display in celebration of the freedom we all enjoy because of soldiers like Dave!




Enjoy some beauty from our garden, thanks to Dave!




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Fourth of July, soldiers, freedom, gardening, friendships

Guacamole and Fireworks!

“Mommy, what’s a ‘guacamole’?”

“It’s a type of dip for tortilla chips,” the mommy replied.

“Shhh…. You need to be quiet...we’re in a movie theater.”

“Why?” asked the tiny voice.

“Those are the rules—that’s why!”

“Why?” asked the preschooler for the second time.

“Because I am the mommy…that’s why!”

How many times did I say those same words while my boys were growing up?

I tried to stifle a giggle and then burst out laughing…until the ad for “silence your cell phones” flashed across the screen.

Yesterday, I took in a summer movie; I’ll let you guess which one? It was one of the free family films offered by theaters in our area, I tend to go where the kids go…. so I happened to be in the same theater with mommies and kiddos. I fit right in.

I was supposed to be writing a speech, but I took a break to take in life. So many of my examples come in places like Wal-Mart, theaters, and grocery stores (the best kind!), so I diligently “took notes.” The movie was hysterical, but the little voices of laughter, the tired mommies squelching inquisitive minds, and the giggles of preschoolers made me “stand up” and pay attention.

When did life become so serious? Did you realize that preschoolers laugh an average of 450 times a day, yet adults laugh just 15 times a day?

No wonder we’re dying of heart attacks…we need to loosen up! And that’s exactly why I frequently take in funny movies on Wednesday afternoons…to be with the little ones and experience their natural zest for the lighter side of life.

After the movie, I bought some guacamole dip and tortilla chips for our Fourth of July picnic. Yummy!

Happy Fourth everyone!

Tomatoes, Tomatoes, Tomatoes!

Yesterday I had the perfect lunch that included tomatoes from our garden. I don’t have a green thumb and never did, but somehow these “Early Girl” tomatoes are bringing forth fruit (I’m sure it was the Miracle Grow!).

Every morning, I peak through the green leaves and yellow blossoms to scout out a fleck of red, and then pick it (actually, I twist it off the vine).

This morning, Mark beat me to the tomato patch and said, “Where did all the tomatoes go?”

Oops!

I pointed to ONE itsy, bitsy, teeny, weenie “grape” of a tomato and said, “Here’s one, honey!”

It was pitiful; the worm had taken the first "bite"!

“Sorrrrrry,” I said. “Maybe tomorrow, you’ll get lucky!”

So what do I do with all these tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes?

Let me share with you my version of “bruschetta” (pronounced: brus-que-tah!). In Italy, we brush the bread with a fresh garlic clove and toast the bread, then we place diced tomatoes on top, and generously drizzle with extra virgin olive oil, and add a pinch of sea salt to taste. "Perfetto!"

But Concetta Pombo’s American version is a little different: Take one plain bagel and toast it. Place a slice of Provolone cheese on top, and then add freshly sliced tomatoes, drizzle with extra virgin olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Oh, I almost forgot...add some fresh basil (that's the real secret!). Did I tell you I started an herb garden too?

Pop the bagel in the microwave for 10-15 seconds and ENJOY. Buon Appetito!

I’ll share more about my tomatoes later, but let’s just say I tried fried green tomatoes and I enjoyed the “movie” version a lot better!





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tomatoes, Salmonella scare, bruschetta, passionate living, gardening, herbs

California Here We Come!

I’m a California girl at heart.

When people ask me where I’m from (I always say the West Coast—California!). It’s HOME to me.

So I guess it’s no surprise to any of you that when Mark retires in 2010 (or sooner!), we will be moving to sunny California.

It was always in our plan to return home once our “boys” were raised (they will be 22 and 27 this summer). Our entire family lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, and we took the verse in the Bible “leave and cleave” very seriously when we were married. Now 32 years later, as my parents and Mark’s dad enjoy the “golden” years, we want to be available to share in that time with them.

Yesterday, we checked out housing on the Internet. It’s a buyer’s market, and some houses are almost being given away. We found a couple of homes that we were interested in, but since we won’t be moving for a while, it’s too early to snatch any of the deals at the moment. But don’t think that stopped me from wanting to pack my bags as of yesterday.

It’s hot and humid here on the East Coast and as much as we’ve enjoyed living here, there’s something about California that beckons me: the cool mornings and evenings (even though it can be 110 degrees during the day); knowing that the ocean is less than a stone’s throw away; the Sierras in my backyard; Napa Valley in my front yard; the smell of Oleander bushes lining the freeways; commuter traffic (I call it reading time!); the smell of Redwood trees; Yosemite National Forest; Mt. Hermon (where I went to camp as a teenager); and the joy of watching (not picking!) California poppies along freeways, backyards, and sidewalks ALL year long!We have moved 27 times in 32 years, and so this will be our last and FINAL move (until God calls us home). It will take Mark about a year to recuperate from his injuries sustained in the biking accident, which gives us just enough time to do the necessary packing.

What about our “boys,” you might ask? Well, I learned a long time ago, you can’t follow your kids around. We raised them to be independent and secure adults. They have lives of their own and girlfriends (possibly future wives) that will care for them (smile!). Besides, we’ll just be a phone call away, and somehow the idea of vacationing in California to visit Mom and Dad doesn’t sound that bad either.

So, California, here we come!



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California, moving, caretaking, new adventures

"A Band of Brothers!"

The doorbell rang at exactly 12:30 p.m. on Sunday, and to our surprise it was the “Band of Brothers”—Mark’s cycling team. They came to pay “tribute” to one of their fallen cyclists (six weeks to the day of his accident). Tears welled up in Mark’s eyes as he hobbled outside to greet each one of his “comrades.” What greater gift than the gift of time, friends, and those who stick closer than a brother. They left their helmets at the door and trudged through the house with their bike cleats, sat at the kitchen table, and talked about riding again with Mark. I chimed in, “Yep, I’ve got his BIG WHEEL all ready to go.” Anything more than ground level is not going to “fly” in this family. Mark flashed me a smile (and I knew that meant “yes” he would ride again).


It’s been six weeks since the Mother’s Day accident that has changed both of our lives. Mark is out of his walker and walking with the assistance of a cane—a welcome change!

To try it out, we spent the weekend at Mt. Gretna taking short walks, visiting the Jigger Shop (an old-fashioned ice cream parlor), and taking in the sights of this Chautauqua retreat—a place lost in time with wooded cottages that resemble an “elf village,” a spring- fed lake with canoes and water slide, theater/ playhouse, gift shops, carriage rides, and streets with names like: "Yale, Harvard, Pennsylvania Avenue, and Carnegie." The Mt. Gretna Playhouse is an historical monument with Broadway plays brought to our doorstep and the place where Charlton Heston first performed. A short-20 minute drive brings us to this place that time has forgotten.


As we walked out of the “Jigger Shop,” Mark grabbed my hand as we headed down the path to the car. It was the first time we were able to walk hand in hand since the accident, and it did not go unnoticed. Tears filtered down my cheeks as I recalled the last few weeks that brought us to that moment.

Today, Mark starts physical therapy and continued pool therapy, which means more day trips! The car has now become my office with works in project in the backseat: speeches half written, edited material for clients, and other works in progress. Many nights I sneak away to Panera (with free Internet access), munch on the “Strawberry Poppyseed Salad” (yummy!), and pound away at the keyboard to meet more deadlines. So far I haven’t missed one (yet!), but it’s been close.

I’ve kept a detailed journal of our journey and I have a greater appreciation for caregivers, both short-term and long-term. It is not easy, but with a “Band of Brothers” it makes the “ride” so much more tolerable!



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Caregiving, Caregiver, Mt. Gretna, hip fracture, Women's Mentoring Ministries

How to Make Every Day Great!

The past couple of days have been “interesting” to say the least.

Usually, my summers are spent in writing, but there hasn’t been a whole lot of time for that. Instead, it seems like I’m writing speaking contracts. It doesn’t take a lot of creative talent to do that…you just change the date and the fee!

As all writers, I have my writing goals before me each day, but somehow they keep getting pushed down to the bottom of the list. My “patient” is getting better, which means he wants to be taken out to “play” every day at the pool (therapy). I promised myself when Mark broke his hip, that I would take care of the “caregiver” as much as I was taking care of him. Well, I think at this point, I need to take an assertiveness training course and learn how to say, “No.”

Today I got out my “Ten Rules to Making Every Day a GREAT DAY!” I have no idea who gave it to me, but it’s been in my Bible for years and this morning I read each one out loud. I hope that it helps you as much as it has helped me today. I even went out and took some photographs at a nearby garden. When I’m not taking care of my garden, my garden is taking care of me.

Ten Rules to a Great Day:

1. Think and expect that good things will happen!
2. Express gratitude to a loved one!
3. Let go of your grievances.
4. Be patient with an annoying person (oops!).
5. Do something special for yourself (see photos!).
6. Reach out to someone who needs comfort.
7. Live and fully experience the present moment!
8. Learn from a mistake.
9. Look closely into a flower and see and experience its true beauty.
10. SMILE all day and LAUGH as often as you can!

Have a Great Day Everyone!

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writer's life, passionate living, caregiving, taking care of yourself