Summer Rhythm

She looks for me.
She waits.
Pitiful as possible.

Some things I see only if I'm looking, and then only at the right time.  These flowers open only at night, and in morning are already beginning to close.

By midday, tight.

With scary looking seed pods.

The ancient apple tree.  ("...don't care 'bout spots on my apples, leave me the birds and the bees..." remember that song?  this tree reminds me of that)

I always know where I can find love, devotion,

and hate.  It's a princess-cat-I-used-to-be-a-stray-now-I'm-grumpy-leave-me-alone kind of thing.

But what I've turned to daily this summer has been the music. 

A definite favorite.

Blindsided

I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I was too busy to write and I was. So I stopped. And the camera sat untouched. But what I thought would help, didn't. The writing continued in my head and had nowhere to go. The pictures continued in my mind and had nowhere to go. They tossed and turned inside and the outcome was, well, unsavory.

So I creep back in. Slowly, feeling rusty, feeling different, so much has happened. So much change, so many hard things. But through it all knowing love changes everything and that is the lifeline to which I cling.

I lost a very dear friend just over a week ago. He was like none other. The surrogate father figure to so many of us lost children. He loved unconditionally, truly, to so many, yet each of us felt as if we were the only one. I treasure knowing him, his loss in part has led me back here.

I miss the way things were.

Music, reading and running have filled so much of my early morning and late night hours. A very welcome change. The fact that six miles can be a pleasant experience has me thinking about possibilities rather than middle age. So nice.

And new life, a whole slew of plants from the children's great grandmother in turn gives me new life. Funny how caring for a growing, living thing can touch something deep within, bringing forth hope, joy and a glowing ember of warmth spreading outward.

Before my friend passed on I found this song so moving, a lump appeared in my throat and tears in my eyes with the first few notes. But since then I'm dry, though it remains a favorite and good for a dreamy early morning run through the fields with the deer and the dew and all the spider webs spun the night before.

Inspiration all around

1. this, my newest favorite running song. makes me feel like I can run forever.
2. the smell of the lilacs, they're in bloom everywhere.
3. watching my husband play baseball with the kids while running to song in #1 and inhaling giant breaths of #2.
4. texting binges with husband in #3 when we can't be together.
5. being told "I love you" while getting a strong hand squeeze from a very sick, very dear friend on my way out the hospital door. some things you just can't take lightly.

Mother, mother thyself

I went to bed the other night at 9:30. Signed off. Lights out. Pillow over my head and I was gone. Done. Exhausted. I felt it was the only option. I'm glad I heeded my own advice because the next day was much better than the three prior all put together. But that's how it gets doesn't it, when we run ourselves ragged? Perhaps at least one of you can relate.

I've never been that good at taking care of myself. I find it much more comfortable to focus my attention outward. So it fits that I clearly remember a rather mundane conversation I had in the hospital with my nurse after having my first child. I think it was the first day still and I was so excited, keyed up, and asked for some Excedrin because I was getting a headache. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "NO. You need to go to sleep. Go to sleep."

I was a little taken aback, I'll admit. I didn't want to go to sleep, I'd just had a baby and wanted to stay awake for hours on end just staring at him of course. But she was right. What I really needed was to sleep. I was exhausted. Beyond tired. So that's what I did and when I awoke I was ready for the next thing. She was right as much as I hated to admit it.

I guess my point in all this rambling is that as much as your friends might look out for you (and they do--as much as you'll let them), or as much as your employer may say they care about you (maybe they do), and as much as your family loves you (I'm sure they do), it's really up to you to take care of you. Sorry, but that's just reality. Good news is it works. I felt great that next morning like I could do almost anything.

What's new

I'm plugging away over here. Filling orders, running kids to practices, watching things bloom, running, feeding everyone and everything under my care including 6 new baby chicks...I swear there's not much cuter. Anyway, enjoy a couple more necklaces before I slip into the weekend. A simple and new version of my double-stranded black, and a very dark purple. I'm not a purple fan but when I saw this particular bead I knew I had to snatch it. So very pretty. Here's to a wonderful weekend and a great big wish for warmer weather!

Bring on the bells

Some time ago I introduced a little red bell necklace to my shop, I don't know if you remember it or not, but it became a quick favorite on Etsy and all that I had, sold out. I couldn't duplicate the bells exactly, but luckily my searching turned up some different red bells and a few other colors so now I have a few new styles to show you.

First, the one at the top, that is sort of a blue-ish green swirled with tan that reminds me of the earth as it looks from far off in space. I know, kinda out there on that analogy, play along.

Then the green one with brown beads below,

and finally a re-creation of the favored red and carolina blue color combo below.

My last bead store trip unearthed a whole host of goodies that I can't wait to get my hands on, so stay tuned for more new styles to hit the shop in the coming days and weeks.

Spring is finally upon us and as the weather turns so increases my jewelry-making. As I throw off the winter bulk, warm my skin by the sun and hope for the first bits of a tan, I find myself awake with ideas, perhaps more ideas than there is time. But then you've heard that story....

Anonymity, gossip and the city girl

Gossip is theology translated into experience. ~Kathleen Norris Dakota: A Spiritual Geography

I picked up the mail the other day and right on top was a big, shiny, brochure for a professional conference in the large city where I grew up. I opened the pages and saw the bright lights, the tall buildings, the familiar names and places that seemed so exciting and the center of all I once knew. I felt the pangs of memory, of familiarity. I considered attending.

I remember first arriving in the small town where I attended college and had my first of what was to be many experiences of being an outsider upon just walking into a local restaurant. You know, the kind of place where you walk in and all heads turn in your direction, eyes roam over you from head to toe as if to scan for viruses. I vividly remember remarking to a friend that I wished I could be back in St. Louis where one could be completely, unequivocally, almost absolutely anonymous in any hundred restaurants in town. I remember longing for that degree of solitude, the feeling of fading into a sea of people, of being able to do anything I wanted without constant monitoring.

Flash forward to what seems a world away from those days to yesterday at the local post office, just a few miles up the road from my house. It is a friendly place. The postmaster and I are on a first name basis as she is with probably 80% of the folks who walk through her doors. She knows whether they pay by cash, credit or debit. She knows if they want "insurance on that" or shipping confirmation. She never has to ask if there is anything perishable, hazardous or illegal in your package. She knows the answer. We exchange pleasantries, mothering stories. She knows my children.

While there I ran into two "country" neighbors (not the kind whose house you'd hit if you threw a stone), one I go to church with, along with his wife and 10 children. They recently sold the wine distributorship they owned for many years. They now run a growing Montessori school on their farm. They are a singular, unique and driving force in the community and I am glad to know them. The other I know by pure chance. He is a business partner with his wife, who herself used to work for Martha Stewart Living. They now own and run an exquisite stationery company. "God is in the details" they state in their business profile and it is clear with just one look...he is.

Turns out, we all three knew each other. Of course we did. And we all knew the postmaster. She knew us.

I wonder if these are the things I missed out on in that sea of anonymity in the big city. I wonder if it takes a special sort to search out the small places and stay here, where we have our wide openness, our aloneness and yet nearly all of our comings and goings are common knowledge. There is not much that passes by unknown in a small town. Word travels fast. Networks are tight and farreaching. Sins are dark and deep as in any other place, only here we pull for each other.

...the tales of small-town gossip are often morally instructive, illustrating the ways ordinary people survive the worst that happens to them; or, conversely, the ways in which self-pity, anger, and despair can overwhelm and destroy them. Gossip is theology translated into experience. In it we hear great stories of conversion, like the drunk who truns his or her life around, as well as stories of failure. We can see that pride really does go before a fall, and that hope is essential. We watch closely those who retire, or who lose a spouse, lest they lose interest in living. When we gossip we are also praying, not only for them but for ourselves. ~Kathleen Norris Dakota: A Spiritual Geography