I like best the things that are
Left for others to find by chance
Like half a walnut shell
Discarded by a scavenging squirrel
Or a crimson leaf
Dropped by the maple out back
A shell abandoned by the sea
Or a splash of snow sparkling on
New blades of grass
Days after a spring melt.
These left things
Make me wonder
Who? When? Why?
And keep me searching
I cannot get enough of this neighborhood. We moved into our home in March, so this is my first autumn in the ‘hood.
These photos were taken on Veteran’s Day. The flags were everywhere. Way to go Lake Yvette!
This noble guy and his twin brother guard the driveway of one of the homes near ours. Makes me wonder if we need lions, as well.
I loved the colors on this tree.
And this woodpile and shed reminded me of a cabin in the woods.
Trees! What is it about trees? They speak a language all their own. I’m working really hard to learn it.
I don’t do yoga, but I’ve got the pants
I have no rhythm, but I love to dance
Don’t play guitar, but I collect picks
Can’t play drums, but I’ve got the sticks.
I don’t fish at all, but I have a pole
I have the right shoes, but I never bowl.
You just never know what life might demand
So it’s prudent to keep this stuff close at hand.
At full dark the lights on the house across the lake come on,
Their reflection tracing a path across the still water.
If I were a little less substantial
I could trip across the shining pathway sending little ripples as I go.
Unfortunately, I am made of flesh and blood and bone,
And would sink like a stone on the journey.
Or maybe an alligator would feast on me.
And the fish could feast on the leftovers until only my teeth remain.
I’m not sure what good those would be
unless one wanted to make a gruesome necklace.
You said you want to meat me by the stares.
But I don’t no you that weigh or that well.
Don’t weight for me two long
I mite bee lost or confused.
You say yule give me your awl.
Butt I just want your hart, deer
And maybe your sole.
I just don’t want to loose ewe.
Our communication seams fatigued
Wee don’t always reed each other
In a way that nourishes or defends
But I like what I sea when ewe come around.
I’m sitting at Whole Foods enjoying a non-fat chai latte, medium, almost too hot to drink, and checking my email on my phone. There’s a funny message from Studly Doright. It was sent to three recipients: our son, our daughter, and me. It struck me how much I love that–that our family group is united in that email. Even though we’re hundreds of miles apart, Studly knew we’d all find the message amusing. At some point today each person will read, giggle, and perhaps shake his/her head at what our well-loved patriarch has wrought.
Yes. This is something I love.
Have your ever shopped tirelessly for just the right piece of furniture or art for a specific spot in your home only to discover that upon finding the object of your search and placing it in that perfect spot that either the object is all wrong or the spot is all wrong? Yea, me neither. Ha. Ha Ha. Sob.
Actually, that’s my normal modus operandi. I wasn’t blessed with the decorating gene, so a lot of my style is by trial and error. After error. After error. Eventually I’ll wind up with something I like, and then, by golly, nobody better move it around.
Take this fun piece:
I bought it to hang in my dining room for three reasons:
1) To tone down the formality of the room. The drapes are formal and the chandelier is so not us.
2) To economically decorate a large white wall.
It almost meets that goal; although, it needs a little something to make it pop.
3) The woman in the picture reminds me of my mom shown here with my dad circa 1957-ish.
So, do I find another place for the picture and keep on searching for something that works, or do I leave it and rid myself of the drapes and chandelier?
I really like my table and server. I just need (free) help pulling it all together.
Beautiful! I reblogged this.
When photographing this Chickadee it felt like looking into a wonderful stained glass window. This Chickadee was in a dark forest of thorny shrubs with just a hint of light shining in through the golden leaves that still remain on the trees behind. As a bonus we were treated to the choir singing away with a chorus of Dee-Dee-Dees from deeper within these bushes.