Answer the questions of the person who tagged you.
Tag whoever you want.
Use any picture that you like for New Years.
This is more of a mysterious New Year‘s memory.On December 31, 2016 Iwent walking as I so often do and everything was as it should be. The very next morning, nice and early January 1, 2017 I saw something that caught my eye.It’s in the tree branches to Bo’s right. Look closely.
*** a wine glass was resting purposefully in the bare branches of a tree right at eye level. It brought to mind a dozen questions! I left itwhere I found it. Day after day I walked passed it for nearly a year. It became a part of things.Until one day someone came along and moved it. It surprised me how much I missed it being in the cedar tree.
An empty glass waiting to be filled with anything. Like a new year, empty and waiting to be filled with anything.It was that spring that I first started writing here on WordPress…
To the questions –
If you could celebrate the New Year anywhere. where would it be?
sky and water…
…right here is good…
What is your favorite snack food for New Years?
althoughI like lots of different foods, like cheese and kettle chips and fruit and guacamole and salsa…really really I do. But, I just can’tresist the chance to say…Cookies! You didn’t see thatcoming did you… world’s most perfect food.
Bo, however, likes toast! He can hear a toaster pop in the next county over.He’s very well mannered though when he waits for his share…
Have you ever kept a New Year’s resolution? If so, what was it?
Well, this morningIopened my sock drawer and as I looked at the options it came to me clear as day…life is short…wear your best socks now. Don’t save them. You’re worth good socks, the kind that hug your feet.Unless you’re going toplay in the mud with Dobby. Keep one pair of old socks on hand for messy doggy days.
So, I think I’ve just made a resolution. I’ll let you know next year how it all turns out.
I think I’ll ask Jack to teach me some new yoga poses too…stretch both the body and the soul..
What do you want to do with your blog this year?
Intrigue! Mystery! High Speed Adventure!
Perhaps I’ll tell you about my book idea. I already have a title. It will be called – The Dog Eats Half My Food. I can’t decide if it will be a memoir or a diet book. Probably, both. It will be riveting...and slimming…
And hopefully some quiet and thoughtful reflection…
Do you prefer a big party or a small gathering to celebrate?
Small, definitely small. Get two sofas and have them face each other. Push them togetheruntilthereisn’t any floor between them. Add fluffy pillows and blankets. Now then, you’ve built a sofa fort and you’re all set!
Who is next to answer the ‘same’ questions?
I invite anyone and everyone to wade right in and give it a go!
Thank you so kindly to all of you for being such a beautiful part of my days.I’m very grateful for You!
Thank you Rory for inviting me to share funny moments from movies I love in this premiere of Scene Cuts! We could all do with more laughter in our lives and this is wonderful way to begin.
Once a week, Rory will pick a Film Genre, post three film clips and tag three readers who in turn will post three film clips on the chosen film genre and tag 3 of their own.
In Rory’s own words – So what’s Scene Cuts? Fair question … and answered very simply – everyone love movies and films and everyone loves ‘ snippets’ from their favourites … those funny scenes, those moments which just captivated you!
This week’s theme is Comedy!
My three clips are…
I invite anyone who would like to share funny movie moments to pause their giggles and do so!
Thank you to Rory for tagging me in 321 Quote Me! His chosen theme of this one is Gratitude. He has a marvelous welcoming site that encourages both thought and community. Please do visit him and enjoy a look around.
Piglet noticed that even though he had a very small heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.
Gratitude turns what we have into enough.
I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.
How does one sum up gratitude in two quotes? Well, as you can clearly see, I didn’t. I searched and searched for just the right words to say what I felt to be true. I searched and searched for just the right photo. Time and again I found myself back where I began. Quotes about gratitude often end in love. Images that inspire gratitude are of things I love. It would do me no good to try and separate the two. They are as intricately woven together as is the most delicate lace.
I love the way…is where my writing so often begins. It is my heart’s gratitude for the everyday things and the ways of them.
..the way the breeze picks up the edges of the sheets that are hung on the clothesline to dry
..the way hummingbirds hover in sweet greeting making me feel a part of their tiny world
..the way calves are insatiably curious and begin to follow me
..the way flowers bloom..enough said
..the way autumn colors light everything in a spectacular sunsetthat lasts beyond nightfall
..the way Dobby looks at me with soulful eyes and waggles his short tail
..the way a crockpot does all the cooking for me on a long day
..the way a song catches in your center and won’t let go and you’re glad for it to be there
..the way Jack reminds me of a muppet
..the way pizza can have any topping you like
..the way the first cool morning after a hot summer excites like love’s first kiss
..the way Bo adores the porch but thinks the yard is made of lava
..the way children giggle..at almost anything
..the way cookies go well with cold milk or hot tea or…come to think of it, cookies go well with everything
..the way clouds make movies in the sky
..the way Ellie snuggles just because
..the way friends encourage each other
..the way a grateful heart makes us mindful of the needs of others
Gratitude is not a thing. It is a way of being. Gratitude is the way you love everything around you…and then it is the way that everything around you loves you back…
Thank you kindly for reading and for being a beautiful part of my days,
321 Quote Me encourages me to tag three people to continue on with sharing their own favorite quotes about gratitude. I invite anyone who is so inspired to participate and link back to Rory at A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip
Early last evening I drifted off to the sounds of a favorite song on repeat. I wonder how they do it, the composers I mean. However do they know which notes to place beside each other. They choose so carefully. How can they be certain that these two will be more beautiful if they are together. The best music is that way. I can’t listen enough. It is over too soon. I only want it to go on and on…
When I awakened at midnight the song had stopped. But, the rain had just begun. It came strong against the roof. I love it when it does and I haven’t anywhere to be. If only the roof was a tin one…. I snuggled under the covers and deeper into dreams. There were wings there, so many beautiful wings.
I chose some flower bulbs a few weeks ago. The lilies will be a rainbow of colors. The clematis will climb and cover the fence. I am most looking forward to the hollyhocks. I’ve never managed them before. If all goes well they will be tall spires of ruffled pastels. I hope…They are waiting on me. The days are warm enough. There is plenty of rain. I even know where they will be planted. It is time.
A new bunny friend has taken up residence in the nearby woods. She drives the dogs berserk going through the fence at her leisure. She comes and goes as if she owns the place. “It’s been awfully nice, see ya soon!” she calls over her fluffy cottontail. Meanwhile Jack and Dobby bark in helpless frustration that they cannot follow. Good for her!
Have I ever told you that early memory at my very first home? The one when I was very young. The story of the yellow sofa. Oh, I must tell you that one soon. It’s such a happy thing. It’s nice to tuck away the sweet ones and keep them. Like the time you said to me….
Yes, that one’s very dear. I treasure it…as I do you…
Yesterday was the Easter egg hunt! I wish you could have seen the children lined up in a row clutching tight their baskets. They waited so patiently to be let loose in the grass. Anticipation filled the emptiness! I was paired with a new little girl who was heart sad with missing her daddy. But, for a while she let go of her sorrow to search for beauty at her tiny feet. I noticed her pass over the purples and the blues in favor of the pinks and yellows. It touched my heart the way she carefully chose what was just right for her. It wasn’t about having the most or even about having more. A few lovely eggs were enough.
Do you know what I love…that there was plenty…of everything. No one was left out. All belonged. All were found. Happy baskets. Smiling children. And the sky was kind enough not to rain until we had had our fun. One sweet face looked up at me in pure joy and asked – can we do that again?! All over again! I don’t think he even realized there was something inside of the eggs. The search was joyful gift enough.
Now, I’m in a quiet place, one I come to over and again. It’s a searching kind of place where the being here is gift enough. I’m writing to you as I listen to a favorite song on repeat. And I wonder how the composer knew how all those beautiful notes would be even more lovely beside each other….
Bird song and light footsteps on a woodland path, carry me.
loved flowers, oceans and woodland walks even though she spent much of her life behind office walls that bear the weight of busy concrete cities.
My ever sassy grandmother…
She baked a tender biscuit…brought order to an unruly boardroom full of men where she was the only woman…grew fairy roses like magic…and tended the loving spirit of a sister soon to depart the world…
She laughed brilliantly with her head thrown back in joyful abandon.
She cried the tears of heartbreak that linger in ways that others will never know…because one pushes them aside to keep on….
My brother arrived first in the family so, he bestowed her with her grandmother name. Bejo was one of a kind…
She gave me libraries, woods, old photographs, art and writing….we explored a thousand things when I was a little girl…
Bejo wore a cotton dress with her sensible boots, even in the wilderness. A walking stick accompanied her, just in case. No adventure would dare to escape her!
I can hear her still –
One must tend to oneself no matter where one might be in life.
Sit up straight.
Please and thank you.
Use a soft voice.
There is always time for beauty.
Paint just because you want to.
Write to me…
Thoughts on the circle of time, travel with me wherever I go…
I wander the forest with them…every day.
A Celtic knot returns unto itself.
Just as my walk circles and centers me.
When I return home, then I have completed another circle, albeit an off kilter messy one.
As long as it comes round to its beginning, doesn’t that make it a circle…
A Celtic knot spread is a circle.
A heart pushed in all directions to its outermost is a circle too.
I wonder over why a moment or an image or a thought takes hold of me.
I am helpless to let it go until I move through it mindfully
And make it my own somehow.
I write and write to clear my head and cleanse my heart.
always…there is more.
Souls don’t want to be told what to do…not really.
Bejo certainly didn’t!
She was the teller, never the tellee!
I think there is enough of that in the world already. Telling, I mean.
Perhaps, instead a soul wishes for a reminder that life can somehow bear sorrow and that love will always find a way…
At the age of 19 my grandmother married a man from New Orleans
who played minor league baseball by day
and a jazz fiddle by night…
She left him
Never to return
When my father was only three years old
They took a train back to her home in Texas
Hungry in both body and spirit…
I love mornings like this one…
If only I could be still for the whole long short day.
The whir of the fan, curtains drawn, soft light, quietly absorbed in transcribing the stories of my dreams. Breathing them into life.
Someone may read them…perhaps, no one ever will. Either way…it is ok.
How much I take in! Every day…All the time! Even as I sleep I gather notions in the reflection of my nightscape. Gather and tend. Gather and tend. Sometimes it is too much. I cannot hold it all at once.
Some of it falls in the lined pages that hold my thoughts.
Letters slanting to the right, edge to edge becoming words, one beside another until a page is filled and my thought comes round in an ever widening circle.
Do I feel better…that I have taken time to listen.
For a few moments I have stopped the whole busy world, except for my hand.
I give myself over to a thirsty pen, rich with ink, making every last thing bright with possibility!
Some mornings I have a tight grip that fights its way, leaving me with a worn feeling up and down my arm. Those thoughts come painfully. Soreness follows them. Sometimes those are just the sorts of words that need to be written. Some days are like that.
But, this day is soft,
Sky and heart and words…
I don’t know what it will become.
Joyful or crowded or silly…only time will tell.
….the edges are blurred in a lovely disarray that leaves me hopeful.
There is the comfort of listening….to music, to my heart, to that which carries me backwards and forwards and everywhere at once…to take out of nothingness and make something worthy of an eager pen.
Bejo lived more circles than I have ever tried to count…and loved deeply, often unnoticed.
A woman who changed her name when that wasn’t done.
And worked as many hours as they would let her to provide for an extended family during the Great Depression.
A woman so formidable that she had Two birthdays!
To be honest, Bejo was not overly fond of me when I was a child. That was just her way. We came to know each other when I was well grown. Then, she took me into her heart and showed me the depth of herself that she seldom shared. How grateful I am…
Professionally with precision
Advisingly with a sharp tongue
Personally with a woman’s heart
And she did it All without the benefit of the Internet!
She wrote letters longhand
She taught me to write letters longhand
We lived far away from one another for most of my life
She kept my childhood letters
And I kept hers
I have them all now, tucked safely away.
She loved me I think…as I did her…
I often feel her close in spirit
Reminding me…of many things…
So when I pause
to wander my thoughts
and gather brilliant images
to create a new old story
one that I so long to share…she is with me…
another lovely circle coming round in beauty and grace
Write…she dares me…all that you live and love and dream and are…write to me…