Friends, Then and Now.


Having and making friends as an adult is different. As a child, it seems to happen naturally, almost organically, wouldn’t you say?  As children we’re thrown together in heap, and left to sort ourselves out.  “You like gymnastics?”  “Me too!” Instant friends.

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I have been blessed with a few very good friends over the years, for that I am grateful.  But, I found myself sitting and wondering,  why was I was sitting alone on a beautiful saturday afternoon. I soon came to the conclusion, I only had myself to blame for that one.  I have chosen a life that requires me to be near home all if not most of the time, There are animals to care for, gardens to tend, stories to write and paintings to be painted.

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These are not things you can do anywhere. Granted, I could slip away from time to time. (I will work on that, maybe)

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I still feel the warmth of friendship, though I may not see them as often; lives change and family and responsibility lead us in different directions.  I suppose you could say we have grown apart. Grown separately, maybe. Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.

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As Jane Austin once said, “There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

My life is full, and I have no complaints, I enjoy my company.

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Time and commitment, now…this, this is truly my dilemma.

Be well,

Jess

 

Wishin’


I have dreams, I have hopes, and I have aspirations.

Can I wait around for some fairy Godmother to to tap me with her wand?

Nah, probably not; I’ve got things to do, time is awastin’, and I’m not getting any younger.

Because I don’t speak of these things much, (until I am ready to share); it may appear to others that I just jump into things, willy-nilly. This could not be further from the truth, I research ad-nauseam. Make a plan, then research some more.  (Are you nauseous yet?) I am almost ready!  We’ve spoken to our local LDC and are set for our second meeting.

The Llamas are excited. Really they are.

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The goats delirious. Can’t you just see the excitement in their eyes?

Seriously? What?!

Seriously? What?!

No? Look deeper.

I thought we talked about this behavior.

I thought we talked about this behavior.

…and the dogs, well, the  dogs could give a hoot.

Don't worry, Finn; I've got your back.

Don’t worry, Finn; I’ve got your back.

There are no balls, bones, or games involved, so they just choose to ignore the happenings around here.

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They pretend they can’t see the yarn wrapped around their paws, in their water dish, and atop their heads. They lie on top of fabric scraps; try to take freshly stitched sweaters for their own, try to wear cowls, and make chew toys of thread spools. 

Try to temper the excitement Finn, really.

Try to temper the excitement Finn, really.

It is going to be lots of work, lots of fun!

Diesel,

Diesel, “I swear I never saw anything.”

And the best part; I get to do it all in our freshly(to be) built barn.

I know, I know, Lexi…you slept through it all. Right?

I know, I know, Lexi…you slept through it all. Right?

The dogs really do like that part. 

Do I look like I would cause any trouble?  Diesel did it.

Do I look like I would cause any trouble? Diesel did it.

Alright then, let’s get to work.

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Hello…

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Hey?!

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Uhmm, where are you all going? We’ve got work to do.

Ah, well.  There must be something in self-reliance.

“If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If you’re a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!” ― Shel Silverstein

Be well, Jess

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

 

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

 

 

It’s a Grey Day…


A grey day with a beautiful soft rain, a day to be productive ~ indoors. Reluctantly.

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Today’s rain is the perfect kind, tiny fine droplets, causing everything it touches to be canopied with gossamer mist.

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Earlier in the morning, I stood filling the coffee pot , gazing out at the garden. A chubby robin sat perched upon the grape arbor. He shook himself to be free of the moisture and he was surrounded by droplets larger than were falling from the sky. I wish I had my camera in hand.

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The peas are in the garden*; it’s a perfectly timed rain.

I’ll add more Chard and Spinach this afternoon, and the lettuces tomorrow, they like the cooler weather.

*If the thunder-storm in the early hours of the morning didn’t wash them away, that is.

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The dogs are sleeping in the kitchen, soaking in the silence.

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I better be moving on, I have dresses to be altered and pants to be hemmed.

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Be well, enjoy your day.

Jess

 

 

Heady with the aroma of growth


A simple bit of earth has the impressive power of evoking grand dreams. The magic begins with the arrival of winter’s dispersal of seed catalogs.

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If you garden and are anything like me you dream, and plan you scratch lines in the soil with the toe of your boot, you carve and through grassy strips creating new beds and expanding the old. You move this here and that there, in hope of better growth. Maybe this next to that would be better…you have illusions of a grand garden (or perhaps delusions).

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Notions gleaming with possibility and loosely tangled treasure bounce through your noggin, like spring peepers on your pond.

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Ideas flash like a a photographer’s bulb, if only they were as easily created as they are imagined.

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I imagine more garden paths, lined with pea stone beckoning you to enter herb gardens filled with basils, thyme, rosemary, and sage, or a bench tucked away in a secret cutting garden.

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Fields of french lavender lending their fragrance to dawn’s solitude.

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You feel the moss under your bare feet that cling to the damp slate slabs in an outdoor dining area. You sit, senses drenched with wisteria draping from the pergola overhead. Birds, bees, and butterflies going about the daily task of pollination (no chemicals to harm them in sight).

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It’s still much too cold here to get out and work the soil, so I sit sipping Earl Grey whilst I bide my time, content to plan and dream.

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“My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams. The thoughts grow as freely as  the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful.” Abram L. Urban

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Be well, dream, and do.

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