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…

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this gives nesting a

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

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reminds me of Nemo..

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

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Be well,

Jess

 

 

Between Rain and Setting


Life is balance.

We strive for balance yet  balance is all around us.

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We struggle between effort and rest, between night and day, between yes and no.

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What will work and what won’t.

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Do we need to have more quiet, more noise, more movement, more stillness?

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Do you find balance with travel?

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Do you remain grounded?

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What keeps you happy and healthy?

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Me? A Sunday night drive in the country. 

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

 

 

Still waters…


Have you ever noticed, it can appear some are floating on life’s river.

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Ogunquit sails

Yet, upon a closer look they are only appear still…

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Is it so bad to be still?

Is it so bad not to be actively chasing?

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Chasing careers, chasing financial success, chasing recognition, chasing bigger, chasing better; only to catch it to find it not enough.

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Can a successful life be one with out notoriety or fame?

Can we still quietly achieve, not announcing every achievement  to the world?

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Maybe this holds my smoldering distain for social media, where every undertaking is announced, every exploit a plea for approval.

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It is ok to be.

Can you know you matter.

Recognition is a basic human need, I know this.

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But is this need now on steroids? Has this need become more demanding?

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My thoughts offer more questions than answers.

Can success be contentment?

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It is okay to stop paddling so hard; it is okay to savor what you have achieved.

To listen. To feel. To enjoy. To savor.

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Attend to where l your heart takes you next.

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There may be contentment in still waters.

Be well,

Jess

Things I know…


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If I must admit it; I am but a creative soul who may be hard to understand, impossible to second-guess, and known to follow the voice of instinct that no-one else can hear…not to mention understand.
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My life can not be torn  from the pages of a story book, it is much more complex than that. I am a tear stained, giggle filled , tragically heartbroken, happily ever-after. To put the words of my life on paper would draw pause and speculation; can this truly be?
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I am.
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I am that girl who believes in guardian angels, magic, hard work, tenacity, and family.
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I believe in love, the Lord,forever friends, and miracles.
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I know that no life is easy and that the past is the past.

I know that working for something makes it worth having.

I know that nothing is free and everything is complicated.

Time is precious, and money should not rule all.
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Love and trust must be earned, and that honesty is essential.

Change is the only constant.

I know too much is never enough, hope is eternal, happiness is relative to your thoughts.

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People should be loved for who they are.

Confidence is fragile. Quitting is not an option, but you must know when it is over.

Contentment is the ultimate goal.
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I know that to really appreciate the good times you must trudge through the horrible.

I know my strengths and my weaknesses.

I know I can not live a scripted life, I am far too much of a wanderer of spirit. Always seeking.

I am me. I can. I will. End of story.

Be well.

Jess

It’s April, who’s Fooling whom?


This is what April [usually] looks like on our little cottage farm. Do you suppose Mother Nature plays April fools jokes? I’d like to think she has a sense of humor.

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How this place we call home looks today?

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They are too discomfited to allow for company. You do understand, don’t you?

Perhaps the chooks will let us visit?

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Uhm, guess not, they choose to not even show their faces.

The goats are happy go-lucky, let’s ask Shelby for a visit.

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Oh, Okay. We get the message, we’ll visit another day.

Be well, and take the light of the Lord with you wherever you go.

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