Friday, April 18, 2014

grape hyacinths. . .

I will bring you the lily that laughs,
I will twine
with soft narcissus, the myrtle,
sweet crocus, white violet,
the purple hyacinth, and last,
the rose, loved-of-love

Hilda Doolittle 

she often left them to their own devises
believing that too much adult supervision
was not always healthy
believing that the world of childhood
needed time to make believe 
and practice working things out among themselves
but in reality she never took her eyes off of them

the two of them worked hard to create
pockets of privacy throughout their property
a makeshift fort in one corner
a thicket of trees in another
pockets of privacy where their sons could play and imagine
but still be within site
still be safe

there were often blankets erected 
hung from tree limbs and draped over the big moss covered rock
which lies between the vegetable garden
and their vast lawn
the space protected by the holly trees 
with all their thorns and thick branches
the rock creating the perfect place for bight red hot wheels to cruse over
and crash land in the soft moss on the other side
or for army guys to hide in, fighting wars among the moss
failing swiftly to their demise 
somewhere on the other side

and every spring
a small patch nearby 
would burst into the color of blue
we don't often see in nature
she would watch as they played among the patch
before it was in full bloom
and fight the urge inside of her 
not to yell a reminder to them
to be careful of the flowers
because she did not want to stifle the moment

then one day 
they would all come running across the yard
their arms behind their backs
smiles of love on their faces
and proudly they would line up in the kitchen
all three of them side by side
so anxious to show her what they had found
each trying hard to wait for the other, but wanting to be first
and suddenly chubby little fingers holding tiny bouquets of love
would pop out from behind their backs
and they would say. . . 
"look mommy, they bloomed!"

she would tenderly bend down to their level
and take the three bouquets 
placing each of them in its own tiny crystal vase
vases she had bought just for these love bouquets
from her sons and she would know that the season had started 
started with these bouquets of grape hyacinths 
knowing that later dandelions in all stages of bloom
would find a home on her kitchen window ledge 
along with tiny yellow buttercups
and she would be so glad she had left them alone
in their world of childhood
allowing them to notice on their own
the beautiful magic of their world 

ahhh... friday, 

hope all is well with you today, 

Thursday, April 17, 2014

judgement. . .

“You always own the option of having no opinion. There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can't control. These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

These are those beautiful leaves that fall down around our feet in the autumn and fill the sidewalk with hearts. I often find them floating in the pond; a gentle reminder from the earth that we are loved. 

I tend to over think things; over analyze other's motives and my emotions. I work hard on allowing life to unfold around me and embracing each moment for what it is, rather than dissecting it to pieces; which does nothing except take away much of life's enjoyment. 

There are times that I am really on top of this; full of open acceptance and letting go of bitterness, judgement and regret easily. And then there are other times when it still shakes me to my very core. The former is better than that latter for sure. But I struggle with balance. 

Shallowness frustrates me so and yet, who am I to say what is truly shallow? Isn't how we live our lives a personal matter? I can shake my head and ponder other's life choices but what right do I have to judge how rich or shallow their lives might truly be? As my mother use to say. . .  the world would be a pretty boring place if we were all the same. 

I had this conversation in my head yesterday as I drove home alone. I asked the dog about it a few times and he lifted his head to acknowledge I spoke, but was really no help; as he is a true believer in unconditional love. It is a bit of a conundrum I fear, and what I really need to work on is putting those sharp dissecting tools away. 

I have started linking last years 365 post to this years over on Nibbling On Life , my 365 blog. It has been fun reading what I did last year on this very day. I see my format of writing changed, not sure when or why that happened, but I guess now I will find out. 

thank you for carving out 
a moment for me today, 
i hope your day is awesome, 

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

heading home. . .

“I have been to the edge and lived to tell the tale..” ~ Rebecca Well, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood

I could hear it in the night, the gentle falling of the rain on our metal roof. This morning the sky is gray and the yard is watered well, and the rain continues, although it is really a beautiful soft mist. It is the first rain we have had in over a week or so and it is welcomed. 

In a bit the dog and I will load up the car and head to the east side. I have been home on the west side for almost three weeks now, the longest since I moved part-time to be with him. And it has been so good. But we both miss him and it is time to head back. 

I have filled the hours of each day in the yard; good exercise and good for the soul. And the yard looks loved again. It has been neglected the past three years and whatever is living is doing so because it is strong and has the will to live. It has made me understand that while there are periods in our lives in which we neglect ourselves, we often come out the other end stronger and with a deeper will to take all life has to offer deep inside and with gratitude.

Every day I was out with my camera taking photos of this beautiful quince. By the time I get back, in just ten days or so, it will no doubt be done blooming and I will fill this space with some other kind of beautiful. 

thank you for spending a small moment with me today, 
what is blooming in your heart? 

Monday, April 14, 2014

day's conclusion. . .

If your knees aren't green by the end of the day, you ought to seriously re-examine your life. ~ Bill Watterson

at the end of the day 
the buckets sit empty
waiting for tomorrow
and another round of 
and dividing

the golden hour is not neglected
with thoughts of dinner 
but rather embraced 
and documented
and goodness 

the dog has spent the days
in search of his turtle
which has not been seen
and been replaced with other things
and holes

one night there was a quick trip to the store
for nourishment, a debate in my head
contemplating changing my clothes
i didn't, but rather went in my grubbies
and green kneed 

each day i was mindful of the day's conclusion
taking time to notice dusk evolving
admiring the sun as she prepared to sleep
and arrived inside each evening
and calm

thank you for spending a moment
with me today. . . 
get out and catch the golden hour tonight if you can,  

Saturday, April 12, 2014

weekending. . .

“When one flower blooms spring awakens everywhere” ~ John  O'Donohue

this week has been productive; 
i clocked hours in the garden at real home,
found a patch of these and picked a bouquet for myself
just like the boys use to do 

i made a make-shift birdbath out of this broken pottery bowl
the dog thinks it is his new fancy drinking bowl
and i used it as a vase for an hour or so
the rock sits where the big chip is

a couple of kind readers told me yesterday 
that this was a japonica flowering quince 
right here on the blog, thank you
this was how it looked late yesterday afternoon

last night i was sore and tired
one glass of wine was in order
today i will clean out the front flower bed
and after that rest. . . 

what are your plans,