the blue muse

and the sun is shining and i have a cozy kitten curled up beside me.

life is good.

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wishing you a weekend filled with smiles

My perennial sunflowers are growing sideways these days, after a weekend of rain that weighed them down, after a summer filled with weather that helped them grow twice as high as usual. Some of them are eight feet tall.

This photo shows just one stem, hanging low over the path to the back field, growing in a place I never planted them.

You have to love a flower that chooses where to live, even if it is a messy, spidery, giant of a plant.

You have to smile at a flower that wraps its stems in sunshine like a pretty row of bows.

And you have to stop and admire a flower so bold it bends right over to bop you on the head as you walk by, just to make sure you are paying attention.

Right?

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Wishing you a Wednesday filled with sunshine.

I spent the weekend painting… woodwork. Fixing things that are broken. Maintaining.

Because sometimes, you just have to.

We have four face cords of wood all neatly stacked, my son came over to help us and then stacked it all by himself. He’s the best.

I feel myself getting into nesting mode, moving back inside, packing up my metaphorical gypsy tent. It’s been a chilly September. And sitting in front of the fire, even if it is inside, is always a good thing.

I’ve been thinking a lot about stories lately. How important they are in our lives, the stories we tell each other, the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we use to help us get through life. Stories that teach us lessons, give us hope, perspective, or make us see something we’ve never seen before.

Each day of life is a new story. A new mystery. We never know, for certain, how it will end.

I’ve been getting up early and staying up late. Reading books and life and the moon and this house. Writing stories.

The season has shifted, and I have shifted along with it. I’m not sure where all this energy is coming from, but I’m planning to take full advantage of its presence.

My garden is always here to remind me that life goes on, in cycles and seasons, but it’s also always changing. There is always something new to see.

There is always another story.

I sit here beneath this open flower, and I listen.

I haven’t been back to my trail since the day a took this picture. It’s been too long and I’ve been too busy and once again, exercise has taken the backseat to life. And I keep promising myself I won’t let that happen, only to find that two or three weeks have passed and there I am, wondering where time went, again.

The older I get, the more precious time becomes, and though this shouldn’t be a giant revelation, it feels like it keeps getting harder and harder to fit everything in that I want to accomplish. I’m learning to be more careful with the ways I spend my time, trying to find ways to do it all.

An apple a day, small doses of maintenance, small parts of hours or days devoted to what must be done, mixed in with what I want to do.

Sometimes this works, and other days, there is simply too must that must be done. But I am grateful for all of it, the busy times, the rainy days, the I-can’t-get-aways. And I keep moving forward one step at a time, picking my way through that apple strewn path, careful not to twist an ankle.

There is food right before me. Nourishment. And none of it is picture perfect. But it’s all beautiful. Sometimes you just have to find the right angle of view. It takes 60 seconds to eat an apple, but a whole year to grow one.

Those are little rubies of time laying there on the ground, food for the taking.

Delicious fuel.

And there is still more to walking to be done.

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Wishing you a weekend of beauty.

It smells like autumn.

I’m working my way through the garden, not quite ready to shut things down for the winter, but tidying up just the same.

Inside, I am doing the same, September has been a month of crossing things off my list, some of which have been on there all summer. It feels good to accomplish these small tasks, feels good to lift that tiny weight off my shoulders.

Of course, there will be new things added, soon, firewood to stack and storm windows to wash and close.

But not yet.

The sun is shining, the air is crisp, and my to-do list never manages to be finished.

And so I stop and sit and turn my face to the sky. Sunshine warms my shoulders and I am grateful for this moment.

Small blessings taste the sweetest.

Savor.

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Wishing you a Wednesday filled with sunshine.

Though not as gently as I’d like… yesterday was spent pulling weeds and cleaning up the worst area of the jungle garden. My back hurts and I’m walking around like am old woman but even so, it felt good to accomplish the task.

It was a weekend of getting stuff done, paperwork and painting woodwork, fixing windows and pulling weeds, hanging out with my husband and son, reading and watching movies.

The kind of weekend I needed, catching up on life a little, filling my mind with quiet, watching summer turn the corner and amble on down the road.

Even though I love autumn, it’s always a little sad to say goodbye to summer’s promises.

Already, leaves are dropping, changing color. I feel myself nesting, looking forward to inside fires and cozy evenings, and I think I smell apple crisp baking in the oven.

Circle, cycle, circle, going round and coming back again… I’m so glad I live in a place with four distinct seasons, each one measuring time out in ways that I can touch and smell and follow. It’s such a simple things really, but my habits change with the seasons, and there is always a new one to look forward to, an old one to say goodbye to, the rhythm of life running just below the surface.

Soon it will be time to move into holiday mode, more jewelry making, cookie baking, time taking.

And so, I savor these days of almost autumn, windows open and no fans whirring, I can hear the birds and the crickets singing the same old song.

The song of life.

I make sure to listen.

And I let go, quietly, as another leaf falls.

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Wishing you a week filled with quiet.

on a warm september evening
a mirror of nostalgia mixed with promise

another day another month another season

sunrise, sunset

and i want to remember them all
just as they were

beautiful

and partly faded

twelve years later
that’s what we call it

not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven

two words

three digits

two towers

four planes

thousands

of

mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends

not statistics

falling

from

the

sky

not dates
or where were you’s

just whole hearts
in odd numbers

each one

the only necessary

evidence

of love

::

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I wrote this two years ago as the 10-year anniversary
of this tragic, horrid event approached.

I am re-posting it again today, in honor of all those hearts.

Remember.

.

Thanks so much to everyone who came out to see us at the Clothesline Arts Festival. The weather wasn’t the best, but not as bad as last year when a hurricane blasted through, so overall it was a great weekend. It’s always nice to meet new people and see old friends.

I’ll be doing my best to get new jewelry loaded onto the etsy shop this month, we have lots of new pieces to show you.

The anemones in my garden began to bloom while I had my nose to the grindstone. They are such fun fall flowers, looking like they really meant to show up in time for summer.

The rest of my garden, well, it looks like summer threw a big party and then forgot to clean up. That will be my other project for the month.

My garden is always a beautiful mess, and yet it always brings me joy.

And you have to be grateful for that.

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Wishing you a week filled with music.

Because jewelry is in the air… and the big weekend is here.

Whew.

We have lots of new baubles and bracelets at the ready, and we’re looking forward to seeing old faces and new.

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Wishing you a weekend filled with beauty.

. . . . . . . . .

If you are going to be in the area, stop by and say hello…

Clothesline Art Festival
Memorial Art Gallery, 500 University Ave., Rochester, NY 14607

Booth 282
September 7th •  10 a.m. – 6 p.m.
September 8th • 10 a.m. – 5 p.m.

. . . . . . . . .