Sleet was predicted for last Sunday night. So was snow. And rain. In other words, nobody really knew exactly what kind of weather to expect. So when the snow began, my children cheered because snow
Technology is difficult to get away from. And let me clarify here, by technology, I am referring to a small sector which has a big impact on our lives – electronic devices with screens. Some
I’m so glad I live in a world where snowflakes drop from the sky, sometimes each flake so fat you can catch them on your tongue, and sometimes, so small and fine it looks like
Nobody likes change.
Everyone except me.
I’ve heard, lately, that blogs are dead. Ah, my usual timeliness. Always on the downhill slope of a trend, or so it feels. So why write this at all? For a number of reasons –
I’ve learned, that some days… you can be at the right place, at the right time… to see something miraculous happen in just a few minutes. I hope you experience something miraculous today.
The last weeks of September saw summer crumbling apart with a few days of cool weather; I was ready to make a good batch of chili. We decorated, opened the windows, and let the breeze
Before I went on vacation this summer, I bought a book. I imagined lying on a beach chair, a cool sea breeze blowing my hair while my sunglasses shaded my eyes, book in hand, and
In Sitio de Mata, Costa Rica, sitting in a valley full of sugar cane and coffee beans and plant life as abundant as ants in their nest, is a home – 3 small bedrooms, a
Summertime is always the best of what might be. – Charles Bowden This year, winter didn’t come until Spring had officially begun, going out with a roar of 10 inches of snow. Spring crept in
If I could order up the perfect days, like we do our coffees and our lunches at local cafes, mine would have thin layers of laughter amidst chunks of peaceful moments, bits of sweetness surrounded
I am reading The Nature Principle, by Richard Louv. The subtitle is, Reconnecting with life in a Virtual Age. Fascinating. People, says Louv, who connect with nature, compared to those who don’t, are more creative.
Writing. Something I have been doing a lot lately and thinking about a lot lately and reading about and researching, watching youtube videos, seeing how others attack it, listening to ideas and generating new ones.
This site has been experiencing some technical difficulties which is why there have not been posts for awhile. Between now and my last post we’ve traveled to Iowa, had a surgery and recovered, had swim
I saw time in Scotland, watched it wash over the hills around me, and pass by, as if a stranger on a sidewalk moving faster than me. Here – in the frantic United States, within
Living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. Hans Christian Anderson
Gosh, wouldn’t that be nice? A writing space as beautiful as this? My writing space is my desk, crammed into the corner of my living room, covered with piles of my kid’s school papers, bills
“ Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul & sings the tunes without the words and never stops at all. ”
I take my kids outdoors because that is where I find inspiration and my soul finds peace. My parents did the same, driving us nine hours north of our home to a cabin on Deere
There is an entire city of birds which live in a nondescript tree over the line of my property. Actually, it’s my neighbors tree but it sits right on the edge so I can see
I am going to start a post called Photo Friday, where every Friday I post a photo from the week. This week includes photos from our recent trip to Scotland, a place which was above
When I was 23 I moved to California, working a job as a science teacher at a summer camp. The only time I went indoors was to sleep, and sometimes even that didn’t happen. With
Hate is such a strong word but it is true. I hate, or feel an intense and passionate dislike, for flying in an airplane. Because the scientist in me knows how flying works (Bernoulli’s principle)
Sometimes, we have to go home, don’t we? It’s just necessary, to taste the roasted chicken with creamy potatoes, to smell the lilac bushes which marked the dividing line between our house and our neighbors,
I love fall, the leaves turning colors and the smell of ’em burning. Hot chocolate and hot apple cider, pumpkins and crisp air. And winter, gosh, it’s so beautiful too. A cleansed palette of white,
A very wise woman told me I live with a lot of rules. When I have a few moments, as I did late Saturday afternoon, the voice me inside said, “You should fold the laundry that is
We woke up, surprised. Yesterday the sun melted all of the snow, revealing the new green shoots underfoot and today, nature was white again. We knew it wouldn’t last and felt called to explore. The
Yes, this is kleenex on the back of our toilet. Normally, it’s in a box. Today, the box was gone. The following exchange was yelled between the bathroom and his bedroom: “Hey, buddy, where’s the
He was helping me get dinner together, which wasn’t much since we ordered pizza, but there were the plates and forks and napkins and drinks to set out. So we were working together in the
In the darkness, in the hard parts of life, in the moments where our anger or doubt boil over and erupt, it is hard to see the good, it is hard to want to see
The robins are here and it is still January. Their robust orange/red breasts are difficult to miss against the dry, hay colored ground. There is no snow and I watch them peck at the hard
They call to me from the store shelf, crammed together so it is difficult to determine where one plant ends and the next begins, making a purple and pink and green carpet, speckled with yellow.
That is what January feels like to me. Cozy. In my mind, January is full of gray days, cold temperatures, warm sweaters, and soft blankets. It’s my time to put away decorations and de-clutter, to
Coloring, drawing, gluing, cutting. These are everyday occurrences in our house. You can’t totally see it but there is a basket on the table with cups of markers, pencils, glue, and scissors and a big
Oh, my writing. How I’ve missed you, the act of sitting down and crafting sentences, putting specific words in order hoping to make something magical. It’s been three weeks and it feels like years. But
I want to go back, to when I knew, beyond any doubt, that reindeer flew through the sky by the light of a little red nose, to when the most important thing in my day
I do my best writing lying in bed at night, right before sleep. I know, I know, I should set a notebook beside the bed and when these great ideas enter my head, grab the
Lately, I feel like a bird who just flew into a window, dazed and shocked because I didn’t see it coming. Life sometimes happens that way, doesn’t it? Knocks you down and leaves you there.
Intention. One of my absolute favorite words. According to dictionary.com, intention means, “an act or instance of determining mentally upon some action or result.” Did you hear that? DETERMINING. As if you have a say in the results of your life. Ahhh. If this definition
My ten-year old self who wanted to be a wildlife biologist, living in Africa, grew up to be a 20-something college student who had no idea how to pursue that job and frankly, allowed fear
Nine months ago I began working from home, my office window looking out onto my front yard. I would wake before 7, make some coffee, and watch the January sun rise over and through the
When I was ten, my family read a book called, “Cry of the Kalahari,” by Mark and Delia Owens, their story of studying wildlife in the Kalahari desert in Botswana, Africa (why we read this
“Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.” Marianne Williamson
When you don’t hear the good about your job enough or even at all, self-doubt creeps in. Or when a mentor, a higher-up, the boss, the director, blatantly criticizes you in front of your peers,
We are back to school here in Maryland, as I’m sure everyone is now. Look at those grins. Happy campers. Both them and me. They are filling their brains with all kinds of goodness and
This is my path right now. Hazy at the edges, an unsure future beyond the few feet in front of me, and no concrete idea where it will lead or end. But from what I can
“ Just living is not enough; one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. ”