Tuesday’s Child-Full of Grace

She’s the Bomb! I love this! Another blogger in my family!

Donutsdiapersanddaydreams.com is up and coming! Nicole Capalbo Dingle, its author, is a woman ahead of her time. For her tender age she has lived and worked in Manhattan, traveled Europe, hiked across parts of the US, surfed in the Dominican Republic, built, remodeled, decorated and sold several houses in The Holy City (Charleston, SC), made more money in a year than I did in five, and continues to hit the ground running. 

Yep, she is my beloved daughter-in-law, however I love her as my very own. From the first moment our son brought her to our door, we knew she was the one for him. Nicole comes from a large, I mean large Italian family and Family is everything to her! She has enriched our lives beyond belief. 

Multi-talented and a writer, I invite you to explore her new blog. Taste some of her life and her treasure. Learn from her graceful simplicity. Feed on her appetite and fire for entertaining. Laugh and cry with her ability to be self-effacing and genuine. 

This daughter of mine is Full of Grace.


imageimageimagewoman and tornado

Summer Morning

Strange for a little town girl. I am not scared. The smell hurts my nose. I can keep climbing. I don’t like it up here! It’s so hot. My eyes burn and I can’t see. Okay, I can duck. Don’t tell them I’m dizzy. “No, you can’t sit down yet!” If she pushes me I’ll fall! Sticky leaves in my face, so hot, I’m so hot! “I want to get down!” Susan does, too. We have to sit on the dirty boards. I can’t breathe! I can’t stand the smell! This is the hottest place in the world! Why am I here?! I can see light.I am moving down the ladder. I hit the ground-hard. Blackness.

Little town girl is a hero. All her town friends have never been in a real tobacco barn.

Summer Morning-1959

Summer Morning


Morning breaks, dewy sweet,

Fresh breeze cleanses my soul,

Sharpens my senses,

Garden to lane like gracious gifts,

They surprise me with joy.

All the world is new.  


Summer Morning

Summer Morning

Blazing heat, early swelter.

Dank sweetness in damp arable soil.

Aroma surpassing, every intoxicating fragrance.


Last, lingering, luxurious under-tone  

The Master Perfumer’s collective emoluments,

Most heavenly, pungent and rare.


Overcoming the senses,

Arousing a longing,

In Blazing Color




Summer Morning

Summer Morning

Overgrown green, moving downward

Straying unconstrained,

By nature, rampant, running tangles.


                      Blazing color


Bursting forth, by both self and soul

Safely contained,

In overlooked whitewashed vessels.


                   Summer Morning


Summer Morning

Longevity potted in white. 

Perfection in succulent, tenderly bruised.

Tiny sanctity crippled with love.

Fore-telling, awaiting, disclosing, longing-for

The rising, blazing sun

Of a Summer Morning

Time To Wake-Up!

Texting. It’s the way we communicate now. Most days I get a photo from someone if not two, usually accompanied by a short caption.

This is one of my all time favorites. Look closely and you can tell why.

It is Monday and time to wake up… 

Happy Monday!


Summer Morning Song

Tiny rain-soaked pots and stones 

Precious, hidden, glorious.

Flourish yet untended

There’s one who cares for you.


Cherubim and tiny blooms bow down before Him

 Gaze ever sun-ward

Summer Morning Song


Summer Morning

Fledgling-deeply, slept-buried and softly hidden

Risen-securely rooted-warmed with evening sun

Hope incarnate-in a Summer Morning garden


Summer Morning

Symbols, seen and unseen

Blazing heat, shade in shadow

Centering, rounding, promising


In a summer morning garden