Monthly Archives: May 2014

the rain

grapesFinally, the rains come. I have lost two small fig trees and plenty of periwinkles in this drought. I am inside now – cozy with the rain at the window and the tiny sounds the coffee maker is making. I love this day of healing. I have gotten to a point where rainy days are my friend. Days of long ago, when children were small and needed direction, were difficult in this rain. Old and forgotten toys were brought down from the attic, tent houses were made over the harvest table, cookies baked and spoons were licked as deep breaths were taken (by me). Funny, but in writing these words, I find joy in those magical days of childhood that time has tempered. Anyway, fast forward and here I am in the same old house with a rainy summer day stretched out ahead that belongs to ME! I hope to paint and clean up a room. Yes, a room, not the whole house – my goals are very relaxed these days that I approach 60 – really, who cares?

I think about things and people on these kind of days and feel it is Nature’s ticket to go back and reflect – to slow down to remember and sort. The trees and plants are heavy with moisture and green from the nitrogen; they are happy and so am I. I am rereading The Invisible Garden, my cousin, Glenda’s favorite book, and my head swells with images of Concord grapevines, Ayers Pears and poles of legumes…the biggest garden ever. I strive for this outdoor pantry and hope I can physically do it when I have more TIME. I do despise excuses and I just made one…the TIME is now.

IMG_0240Anyway, I am headed to one lucky room today – the room that gets a scrubbing and when I am finished, I will insist on feeling satisfaction – no more lofty goals for me except to plant that pantry…

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Return to Pooh Corner

kaleIt’s the first day of summer vacation for me, release…I celebrated with a trip to the farmers market and drove home in search of yard sales. Our small market is unlike the Central Market in Florence but simple and quaint and the farmers are there to answer questions.

I am soon to be cloaked in summer. This morning, before the market, I ate the first methley plum from one of my plum trees, picked blackberries, visited the bees and saw how many figs were on my oldest tree – they will be ready around the 4th of July! My yard is a pantry and that makes me so happy. I will hang out laundry in just a little while, cut a watermelon and go to the nursery for another methyl plum tree. This afternoon I will come inside from the heat only to go out again at nearly sunset to water and watch the sun go down and the moon come up…I love this time of year and I love Mother Earth ! How ’bout you plant something today?DSC_0641

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no rules

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I tried for a while to be more towards the minimalist mentality but I give up. I’m going with who I am – a junker, a collector, a keeper of the memories, perhaps a borderline hoarder – I like my stuff. I have read the books, the posts, and felt the urge to de clutter but beyond cleaning out the laundry room and a few kitchen drawers, I’m done. The thing I really want to do is get far away from this forest of fictitious rules and single-minded guidelines that are all over this World Wide Web and all of this networking, including magazines that shoot pictures of people and places that are, again, retouched snapshots of “reality” .  I fear we will lose track of who we are with all of the influence and depictions of people’s lives that can bombard us every hour of every day. And nearly all of it is not for real, but are isolated moments that attempt to tell a story of how things are or should be.

Anyway, I am of a generation where we had time to think about who we were – we spent a lot of time “finding ourselves” and because of this blessed background, I am returning to that concept – we need to be ourselves and I, like clutter. There, I said it…

I also like the patina of my old furniture that has marks from childhood on its lovely scruffy surface and I like the way the post at the end of my staircase is worn and without paint from the hands of my family grabbing it each time they went upstairs and then there are the walls filled with paintings, mine and my kid’s, I even like the five little nails where stockings hung and still remain on the mantle from Christmases past, it is all part of the real story. summer 10 013

It is freeing to let go of that idea that things have to be perfect and that huge misconception that they even can be – perfect is just being you, not a picture in a magazine or a new rule to follow from someone’s post. I hope you do not consider this a rant or another set of internet rules to follow – I just meant this to support you or perhaps encourage you to leave social media alone from time to time and find your real self – that person that is perfectly you.

“There are three things extremely hard: steel, a diamond, and to know one’s self.” 

 Benjamin Franklin

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