Those moments.


I have been crazy busy, trying to get the gardens back in shape after the long, cold winter, and two seasons had passed by with little to no attention.

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What a job.

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I sheared a friend’s llamas and the goats are sheared; of course today is 50*.  I’m certain they’re questioning my motives right about now.

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With a life so busy and full of to do lists, it’s easy to miss the pocket-sized moments of beauty and wonder, isn’t it?

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I need reminding, from time to time, to lift my head from my daily tasks ~ listen to the birds chirp their own particular warble…

this gives nesting a

this gives nesting a

Notice that one cloud, as it moves past the sun, beams radiating warmth on your upturned face.

reminds m

reminds me of Nemo..

Let nature take hold of your soul, breathe her in, fill your heart.

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Be well,

Jess

 

 

Rocket Surgery


Do you ever say things, but they didn’t come out exactly as you had planned? One of my daughters, Jenn (actually both) did often as a child, she mixed 2 sayings into one – often. Rocket surgery was but one; still makes me chuckle.

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Usually used when I was helping with math homework. “It’s not rocket surgery, Momma”;. Immediately followed by, “When will Daddy be home”?

 

My other daughter, Juli; well,  if she didn’t know the words, she would just make up her own.  Once she officiated a marriage, she “married” my husband and I, at age 4. Complete with a gown she hand crafted, a very creative soul she is.

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It went something like this:

Howie, do you take Jessica to be your awfully bledded wife? As long as she lives.

Precious she was. (still is)

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When our youngest was born, she was certain we should watch her “extension cord” carefully. Always the caring sister.

Juli & Jenn

Juli & Jenn

As I was driving home from the dental hygiene clinic today (Jenn is a student hygienist), I was thinking how fast she has grown; and how funny she was as a child, though she was sure she wasn’t funny at all. She would try to memorize jokes, from the elephant joke book bought at the school book sale, in  an effort to be as funny as her older siblings.

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Juli was a natural princess actress and wasn’t about to lose her crown, she didn’t find Jenn amusing most days…on the other hand, Juli’s rendition of Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President ‘ was a hard act to follow.

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Aah, the memories they provided.

Be well,

Jess

 

 

Portland


Press Publish ~ Portland. Celi’s there you know. Hers was the first blog I followed when first starting mine in May of 2011. Her blog is a treat. If you haven’t already you should check it out. Some sessions will be live streamed, you have to register for tickets. Her session will begin at 1:45. There will also be so many helpful sessions, I hope to catch this one, as I am new to WordPress Premium.  I am a little excited. crab apples in a bunch Here is my very first post, have you read it? It seems so long ago, so much has happened since that day in May. There have been failures and unexpected successes. Moments to embrace and lessons in letting go. Through it all, I have laughed, cried, and learned. Delightfully alive. Be well, Jess

Butterflies and Ruby


Why do I associate Ruby with butterflies? I’m not real sure, to be honest.

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It may be that at the time she was born my beautiful niece Courtney was terribly ill. Butterflies and babies are hope. Oh, and she was a marvelous baby, with a sweet, spunky demeanor. A face you immediately fall in love with.

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I tend, as you do, to find beauty in things I love. Photographing these things is only natural; capturing the simple things in our lives, where we go and where we’ve been.

DSC_3864(Ruby loving on a friend.)

It may be that butterflies are a lesson of letting go, their beauty is only with us for a short time. As was our beautiful Courtney. Her beauty, deep within, touching every facet of our lives. She became our glue. She kept our hearts close, our spirits yearning for one more minute.

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Courtney, with butterfly’s wings will fly gracefully and beautifully; a gentle dance on the breeze, from flower to flower.

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“I like living, I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.” ~ Agatha Christie

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Be well,

Jess

Going…going…will it be gone?


Winter. Just another of life’s adventures; fraught  with roller coaster temperatures and seemingly insurmountable layers of snow and ice. A journey that forced us inside, inside ourselves to ponder our dreams and the roads we have already traveled. To navigate our paths, or wander serendipitously, our minds open to what could be. DSC_6138

Something about the near hibernation plummets me into retrospect, a desire to reroute my intended destination; to find joy in my journey, succumb to the stillness.    Be. DSC_6142 It has faded , winter; I struggle to rectify the inside with the out. I listen to melody of my past, believing the best is yet to come. Fresh beginnings, new goals, bright dreams; they are all there in the song. A song of sweet nothings. DSC_6140 I delight in the sweet nothings now, the season slowed me enough to recognize contentment in the ordinary. The sunrise, the sunset, skyping with my husband 10 thousand miles away, puppy kisses, baby giggles, or a llama’s whiffle; these are gifts that could slip by without being noticed, aren’t they? Keep your eyes and your heart open lest you miss life’s beauty. DSC_6129 Some of the best moments are the simplest. Be well, catch the moments and hold on tight. Jess

Way Back Wordless Wednesday


Well, actually it was just last year.  A beautiful mostly unspoiled place to be ~ St. Croix USVI.

St. Croix vacation. DSC_2886

 

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DSC_3088Fly away…

Fort in Frederiksted DSC_3113

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Buck Island

Hello turtle.DSC_3597

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Urban jungle…DSC_3170

Fanfare.DSC_3407

DSC_3253                                               Annalay Bay Tidal Pools, a pleasant hike along Trumball Trail.

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DSC_3124                                                     View from the top of Goat Hill, a one mile hike. 

 

Video compliments of Josh Cookfair. 

Be Well,

Jess

And Just Like That…


And just like that, it’s mud season. Grab your muck boots and lets dive right in. You’d think with all of the snow and ice we have been driving in, we’d be happy to be rid of it, and you are right, mostly.
Winter’s opinion of our driving skills matters very little now. Should we fancy ourself worthy of praise? We made it through, we survived relatively unscathed, free of this foreboding stretch of time. Now it is giving way to the promise of spring, but getting from one to the other required passing through an ominous complication called, mud season, or pot hole season, call it what you will.
The problem with this season? No, it is not merely the gobs of the gooey, sloppy, boot sucking glop carried in your boots or paws. No, it is far more sinister than that.
The problem?
Driving.

This, this makes your road a mighty opponent, a duel between you (your vehicle)and the mud-rutted road. It separates the men from the boys; the wheat from the chaff.

First,logistics come into play; you must figure out where to direct your wheels. The decisions come fast and furious, vigilance indispensable, lest you take too long to decide, even a moment of indecision can slow your momentum. Do you ride on the high part or the low part to stay out of the ditch? You follow the tire ruts that came before you, don’t even think about forging your own path? You must abandon your instincts, and drive like hell. Bottoming out is a fatal blow in an area that is mostly uphill and down and mostly dirt roads. If you are venturing out in New England this weekend, don’t leave your gumption at home.

Do you think I can train the pups to leave their boots at the door.
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The goats won’t muck up the kitchen with mud. They are more polite and mind their manners. (except when the eat the pocket right from the apron I’m wearing)
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Mud-season, a battle of two, a season of indeterminate duration when spring and winter struggle for dominance. A season you won’t find on your calendar, a season all its own; none of spring’s lovely flowers, or Autumn’s showy colors, none of winter’s white billows of snow, nor summer’s freshly cut green grass, just serious mud.

Winter has yet to yield its grip, the snow is still feet thick near the hedgerow, it’s best it melts slowly. A flooded basement, streams, and rivers would not be a better option.

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Girl, you need a haircut!

Be well,
Jess