It’s another one of those pesky metaphors that play over and over in my head, doing their best to sink in. If I were to hazard a guess, I would suppose that the “stop and smell the roses” suggestion came from Barbara Fox, since her penchant for quoting others under the guise of good advice is well documented here.

To be fair, the guidance that Mom offered was often well placed and it keeps her alive in my thoughts, and that makes me bitter-sweet-happy.

Of course, now that I’m mature (hold your comments) and a semi-responsible adult, I’m often curious as to where Mother originally grasped hold of this or that notion before passing them on to me, like some sort of 1960s suburban Jewish Yoda. In fact, I can hear mom’s ghostly voice in my head right now saying “Ask the Google, young Padawan. Ask the Google.”

Lo and behold, it turns out that the phrase “stop and smell the roses” is often attributed to golfer Walter Hagen, who is said to have used it in the 1956 book “The Walter Hagen Story.” 

“However,” the internet know-it-all informs me, “Hagen’s actual quote from the book is ‘You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry. Don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way.’” 

Well, here we are, inching toward the end of July and my flower-smelling is not what it should be. Racing from theater to gallery to festival is all well and good, but “What about me?” I wailed to the dog, who looked up at me, nonplussed, before going back to her stuffed animal, or boney, or ball. It’s a dog’s life.

All this to say that I’m plugging along—having all three of those things on my proverbial plate in the last few, but keeping an eye on mother’s heaven-sent finger wagging, designed to keep me in check from wherever she is now. Playing mah-jongg with Yoda, no doubt.

On Saturday, and still thinking about that red-headed matriarch named Barbara, I checked my schedule and plucked at my “Starry Night” petunias in between sips of iced coffee. I was a bit dismayed that their scent wasn’t more intense, since subtlety often evades me. 

Sighing, I whistled for That Dog Named Gidget (follow her on the socials) and headed out to the annual Hurleyville Music Festival. This year, it boasted two stages hosting more than 20 performers, a smattering of vendors, a bouncy house for the kids and more. 

Even though I had no fewer than three separate events to attend that day, I did my best to stop, look and listen to the musicians, chat with some friends and well—you know. 

Both Gidge and I enjoyed the variety of musical interludes that the festival presented. I managed to take note of the simple fact that it was a lovely summer day, replete with a cloudburst which caused steam to rise from Main Street, reminding me once again of childhood. 

I said my goodbyes, took my leave, and steered toward Kauneonga Lake and a Bethel Council for the Arts (BCA) reception. There, folks were milling about on the lovely deck overlooking the lovely lake as lovely clouds scudded overhead. Stop. Smell. Repeat.

The exhibition, titled “Colors, Shapes & Spaces,” is a joint effort of the BCA members, co-curated by artists James A. Hawley and Hassina Brodie. Both have works in the show, along with 18 others, who have jewelry, paintings and art that comes in all shapes and sizes on display (and for sale, of course) through August. 

I did the usual, schmoozing with the talented folks who were on hand to present their work, and those like me who were there to admire it all while enjoying another beautiful summer day in the Upper Delaware River region. 

What did that golfer dude say again? Oh, right—“You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry. Don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way.” Worth repeating, in my humble opinion.

Fun Fact: A padawan is a young person who is training to become a Jedi Knight in the Star Wars fictional universe.