April 1, 2015

i dream of…


daffodil and bleeding heart

fields of green


bluebird preen


April is National Poetry Month.

This morning the world was bathed in sunshine.

Last year’s narcissus as a wish and a promise.

The air smells of hope.





March 30, 2015

monday grin

because they make me smile

every time

March 27, 2015

little house, big heart

Laura Ingalls Wilder, Pioneer Girl

I’ve read a lot of books in my lifetime. So many that I sometimes have a hard time remembering them all. There are a few books I’ve read more than once, but none as many times as Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series. And very few that I’ve treasured quite as much.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I received the complete boxed set for Christmas, though I know it was well before the television series came into being. I’m guessing I was 9 or 10, and I have to say that, even today, those books hold their place as one of my favorite gifts ever. I still have that set, and still re-read them every few years. Those stories have been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

So it was no surprise that when I heard that Laura’s original manuscript (which served as the basis for what would later become the younger-audience series) was going to be published, I was thrilled.

My mother-in-law ordered a copy of Pioneer Girl for me for Christmas, and it was on back-order for months (how could the publishers not have guessed how popular this book would be?). But finally, just a few days ago, my copy arrived. And it’s every bit as fascinating as I’d hoped it would be.

There has been a bit of controversy about how much Laura’s daughter, Rose, edited and/or wrote of the autobiography, or the series that came later. After reading the introduction, it seems that Rose did do a fairly extensive edit and re-write of Pioneer Girl and tried hard to get that version published, but it never happened. The story that has been published, finally after all these years, is Laura’s original version, with footnotes added in about the changes that took place in Rose’s manuscript, as well as the filling-in of historical fact and data. And it would seem that Laura did indeed write the Little House series herself, though perhaps no one will ever know how heavy-handed Rose’s editing was.

In truth, it doesn’t really matter to me how the stories made it to the page, they will always be the stories I grew up with.

And they will always be just as alive to me as they were the first time I read them.

And that is the magic of a good book.

Secretly, I’m almost glad that it’s still a little bit snowy and that it’s going to be cold again this weekend. Cold enough for reading in front of the fire.

Because I’ve got this book to finish.





March 25, 2015

fingers crossed

White tulip fingers crossed for hope


for health and life

love and hope

smiles and sunshine

peace and possibility


for you, for me, for all of us




March 23, 2015

less traveled

It’s the time of year when the animals are hungry. Winter was survived, but it’s too early yet for new growth, new food, fresh fuel.

The sun helps, filling in with warmth and golden light, hope and promises of plenty.

Yesterday, on the way home from visiting the children, there were deer everywhere along the highway, too close to the road, too close to danger, desperate for food. The news of Spring’s arrival has not yet reached their growling stomachs. The moon may feed the night, but those cold clouds still taste of empty.

Yet the animals hold on. They survive.

No, more than that. They fall into life’s embrace and revel in existence.

The light of dawn becomes their beacon.

Their path, the road I follow.


Wishing you a week filled with life.







March 20, 2015

black and white


and waiting for green


wishing you a colorful spring




March 18, 2015


Sometimes, the kindest thing to do is allow someone to complain.

Accept the lack of perfection.

Say “yes, me, too.”

Growth happens even under the weight of survival.

Our scars become armor, our hearts become bloom.

Eventually, the mountain will melt from your shoulders.

You will find your way to the sun.


Your strength never came from your flower,

but from roots that refuse to stay dormant.


Your struggle will always eclipse your surrender.





March 16, 2015

signs of life

singing songs of spring

on a sunshine seeking





March 12, 2015

new growth


you wouldn’t think a month

or a season

could blow you sideways


but that just make it easier

for those seeds

to reach the ground




March 11, 2015

hanging on {again}

The sun is brighter, warmer, a more frequent visitor.

The snow is melting away, inch by inch.

My roof is ice-free for the first time in months.

These morning glory pods hang on tight, just waiting.

Mr. Cardinal takes his post at the top of the last pine
and sings good morning to the sky.

And my heart is right there, with him.






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© Copyright 2010-2015

All text and photographs are
the original work of Kelly Letky, unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved.
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I can be contacted at bluemusejewelry(at)gmail(dot)com

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