Time


How much do you try to fit in those little shreds and patches of time between the usual things to be done.

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I tossed the laundry in to the basket, grabbed the bowl of pins. loaded up the washer with the next load then headed out to hang them in the sun and breeze.

Summer breeze

Summer breeze

 

Walking back from the clothes line out back near the far pasture; I notice some weeds in the garden. I stop to pull the few I noticed; as I pulled, I noticed more. The seeing, pulling, and shifting went on for some time. My back was sore, then I looked at the clock, I had been at it for 3/4 of an hour. I had missed the rinse cycle on the washer, no softener in this load.

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What continues to astonish me about a garden is that you can walk past it in a hurry to get to the next task at hand, see something wrong, stop to fix it, and emerge an hour or two later breathless, contented, and wondering what on earth happened.

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Do fill the cracks of time so tight you couldn’t slip paper between the minutes? Do you accomplish more when you think you don’t have enough time? 

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I have a list of things to be done a mile long. This list seems to the should haves, at the end of the day I wonder why I didn’t hem those pants (sorry Mike), why didn’t I trim the dog, (sorry Finn), why didn’t I trim his hair, (sorry honey).

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“What may be done at any time will be done at no time.”
– Scottish Proverb

I did however: weed the garden, hang the laundry, help Jenn with her knitting, do the dishes, make the beds, vacuum the rugs, feed the animals, throw the ball for Lexi, clean the chicken coupe, plan dinner, write this post, respond to emails, and its only noon! 

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“It is not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is, what are we busy about?”
– Henry David Thoreau

I have much to learn.

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.

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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

 

 

You’ve got the cutest little baby face…well some of you.


It that time of year again, County Fairs, State Fairs and animals on parade. We always head straight to the animal barns, then to the produce displays, followed by Howie’s need to see every piece of machinery known to man…while we were looking about at antique water pumps, wood splitters and steam engines; I came across these honey extractors and thought of Miss C . Wonder if she could use this?

It looks pretty deep, and with her many gallons of honey it may make short work of the extraction process.

I could oogle over these baby faces all day.

This little Jersey calf was born 1 day before the fair…wonder what she thinks of the world?

Some kids, have their own idea of comfort.

While other are just too sleepy to care….shhh…look at those lashes.

I have heard of folks dressing up for the fair; but this is ridiculous! Wonder who his hair dresser is?

Well hello there big guy! He looks too proud to be in jail…(I think I am funny, just smile and nod)

This white peacock is stunning, I think. It was difficult to get a good vantage point, he might have been camera shy.

She’s got legs…I am certain her Mamma thinks she’s cute.

Do you think I could fit this little girl in the back of a Volvo wagon? Well, I could try…but, she probably wouldn’t like me very much after. I guess I have to wait for a Jersey calf, and some cashmere goats, and a few Wensleydale sheep, and, and, and….Might be time to go home.

I will be back at the fair today, spinning with my new friends ( just met Lisa yesterday – smiling really hard.)
Be well.
Jess

……can you whistle?


Sittin’ in the mornin’ sun
I’ll be sittin’ when the evenin’ come
Watching the ships roll in
And then I watch ’em roll away again, yeah

this just about sums up our life…notice that he is wearing his boots…on a boat!

I’m sittin’ on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I’m just sittin’ on the dock of the bay
Wastin’ time

……Sittin’ here resting my bones

……Watching the tide roll away
,Oooo-wee,
sittin’ on the dock of the bay,
Wastin’ time

Okay, now …whistle!

My all time favorite summer song…as sang by Otis Redding.
I only wish I could whistle!
Be well,
Jess

I dream in technicolor…


Grey, drippy, rainy, windy days. Days when I relax cozily snuggled up in a blanket and dream…dream of warm sunshine and lush gardens. Yes, I dream in Technicolor. Vibrant, vivid images that gladden my heart and sooth my soul.
On rainy, sloshy days, I plan and I design, everything from garden gates to furniture. I’ve drawn and re-drawn gazebos, arbors (for my new grapes) and barns for my husband to build, so far, he has yet to take my pencil from my unyielding grip.
On misty days,I wander through memories, memories past, mine, my children’s, my friend’s…sometimes I smile, sometimes I laugh out loud.
I don’t allow sad thoughts in on rainy days; they are banished and put out with the remains of altered designs.
I dream of summers to come; summers past. Spring plantings, autumn’s wealth.
I dream in technicolor.


summers of innocence, summers of abandon


gather summers gifts


Summers by a NH lake… for just a day picnic or a decade.
This photo reminds me of one of my sons..he fished in his canoe before school (we had to retrieve him), he fished after school, he still fishes every chance he gets.


My husband and I always love an evening stroll.


Bliss, just lying in the grass watching the clouds drift by.

Be well,
Jess

Make a wish and blow!


 

Make a wish..if you make a wish immediately before blowing on dandelion, your wish just might come true.

 I have heard that blowing the seeds off of a fluffy white dandelion carries off your thoughts and dreams to your loved one.  Are you separated from the object of your love? carefully pluck one of the feathery heads, lend your wish, thoughts, hope or dreams to each of the tiny feathers ~ composing it with a tender thought..turn now in the direction of your loved ones…blow! The seeds will carry your message faithfully.

Is your wish to know if your loved one is thinking of you?  Go ahead, blow again. If there is but a single aigrette. Take this as proof your are not forgotten.

For me they are a symbol of hope, summer and childhood.  

Bleeding Hearts…

I remember someone telling me a story as she took apart a flower from the bleeding Heart plant. Here is one “active”  rendition perfect for a fairy tale loving child.

To begin narration of the story, hold a heart blossom in the palm of your hand.

Long ago there lived a noble prince who tried in vain to win the heart of a very beautiful princess. The prince had brought the princess wonderful gifts from his travels far and wide. Yet she had taken no notice of him. One day the prince returned from a long journey with very special gifts to surely win the love of the princess. First he presented her with two magical pink bunnies.

Peel off the two outer petals and set them on their sides to display two little pink bunnies.

The princess only sighed and barely looked at the little bunnies. The hopeful prince had one more gift saved for last – he presented a pair of beautiful enchanted earrings.

Remove the two long white petals and hold them next to your ears.

Again, the princess hardly noticed the prince’s gift. Now the poor prince was utterly heartbroken. He could try no more to win the heart of the princess. He rose up, pulled a dagger from his sheath and stabbed himself in the heart.

Remaining in the flower is a heart shape with the stamen, appearing as a dark green line down the center. Hold the heart up, carefully remove the dagger-like line, and plunge the dagger through the heart.

The princess was overcome by the dedication of the dying prince and his unending love for her. She realized too late that she loved him also. “Alas,” she cried out. “I have done wrong, my own heart is broken also. I shall bleed for my prince forever more!” And her heart bleeds to this very day.

There are many blossoms on a Bleeding Heart in full bloom, so next time you pass such a delightful array, perhaps you’ll have permission to pick a heart and discover the mysteries within.

Be well, Be hopeful,

Jess

Oops, I spilled the beans..(a re-post from last summer)


(a re-post from last summer) Hope you enjoy.
What a beautiful morning,cool,a mist on the pasture, grass wet from dew; I am starting my morning chores a bit later than usual…Howie let me sleep in; he fed the chicks, ducks,dogs,Riley the cat and llamas. All I needed to do was clean the barn and put fresh bedding down (extra snuggle and photo time) or so I thought.

I took my time, taking to the “girls” as I worked; everyone does that right? Well anyway, I got every thing clean and fresh as a daisy (no, really). Still talking and puttering about, I start to drag the now nearly full barrel to the “poop pile”; walking backwards and pulling the barrel by the handle…then, like a slow motion film, I am falling ~ the handle on the barrel just gave way ~ no, I’m not falling onto a nice grassy pasture floor ~ I am falling into the “poop pile” … not only am I now on my hiney, hands, and what ever other part of me could possibly be… is in a pile of poop, the barrel that I just spent all this time and energy filling is now spilling out of the barrel around me. My first reaction, being cool and all, is to look around to see if anyone saw what just took place; no one around, but, I swear the llamas chuckled…(see photos below, there is a definite twinkle in Syria’s eye).

As I was gathering what was left of my dignity, and re-scooping poop,(can you think of anything more glamorous), the llamas sent out a “danger call”; if you have never heard that sound…it’s an alarm sound they make in times of distress, to warn the herd of intruders or potentially dangerous situations; sounds sorta like a rooster-ish/horse-ish whinny. Anyway, they all ran down to the fence line to investigate; I grabbed my camera, don’t want to miss all this excitement. Chester, KatDoll, Breezy, and little Andy(tucked in beside KatDoll), are looking toward the woods, that border a swampy pond… the high grass is rustling, as whatever it is makes it’s way toward the small tool shed. All eyes are fixed, and the calls continue…out pops Finnegan (so much for excitement) he must have gone for a stinky,yucky,smelly swim…the llamas aren’t used to anyone entering the pasture from that direction, as soon as Finnegan’s head erupted from the hedgerow, he ducked back in, he saw all of the llamas, standing making THAT noise at him. Of course, I could have put the camera down,and gone to get him, but what fun would that have been.There may be a dog gone good lesson to learn here (forgive the pun), after all, Finnegan should not be in the stinky, smelly pond. After, what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few seconds, Finnegan, came out slowly, keeping, close to the ground, slinking across the yard past the llama’s admonishing chatter; as soon as he felt safe he all out sprinted to the safety of the front porch…Oh, Finni the amusement you provide.

Well, now that Howie is off the roof of the old barn we are dismantling, to re-purpose; I should go down there to help him…heights and I don’t get along very well.


A field full of sunshine…


The girls, waiting for me to clean their home…maid service is here!


Uggh, I spilled the beans.


These are my beautiful tools of the trade; beauty is in the eye of the beholder, ok?!


Syria, post chuckle..


Syria is Maeve’s Mom…hugs to her.


What is that over there??


Watching for the “intruder”…or Finni, as it turned out.


Here’s Finnigan, just so you have an idea of who caused all of the commotion.


Keep your eye on him!


Since Maeve’s passing, these two have been inseparable; I think she made a promise Maeve.


Never more than a step behind…


Turn your face to the sun…

Storms headed our way today…
Be well, enjoy your day.