I Don't Know What A Title For This Post Would Be....

I was subbing the day it happened- not there, not in that school, that town, that state. But I had been surrounded by the magic of children all day. I was in that glow bubble that I get into when I teach. I was in the thick of joy when I walked in my front door and saw the candle on the mantle piece. My husband met me at the door.
"You lit a candle, that's so nice." I said, smiling up at him.
That's when I saw the pain- but before I could ask- he said, "It's for the children."
I was puzzled, "Our children? They aren't home yet- what children?"
"The ones killed- in the shooting this morning- at the school in Conneticut."
My breath left me, "No, don't say that. No!" I whispered,  as I began to shake.
That's when he told me and I started to cry.
Like so many, I remember Columbine- but I also remember others and one of the first school shootings- the one at Simon's Rock College in December of 1992. Not many people remember it or have even heard of it but I remember. I was young and I remember hearing that the woman who was checking vehicles at the gate was on the phone with her husband when she was shot. And I remember thinking how awful that must have been for her and her husband and how scared her husband must have been- helpless at the other end of the phone knowing that the one he loved needed him and he couldn't get to her, couldn't stop what was happening. I can't find any details on it now but that is how I heard it back then- when it happened 20 years ago (minus a day) from the shootings in CT.

And with Columbine, I never remembered the shooters' names but I remember sitting on the floor of my room watching our tiny tv clutching my baby son to my chest and sobbing. It was the look on the parents' faces that did it more than anything, that look on their faces as the camera's focused in on the tragedy. The look that said, "Please god, please let me wake up- this can't be happening- where is my baby?" and the look of fear and hope as they scanned the buses for their children, for the face that they held with bated breath, to see. The look on their faces when their child didn't get off the bus, that was what tore me in half- the frantic look of a parent who has lost their child. I sat there wanting to hold them close and make it better.
Years later, when a dear friend lost her daughter to SIDS at three and half months old, she told me that the firemen had to pry her daughter from her arms because she couldn't figure out how to let her go, how to function- the instinct was to scream and hold on and will life back into her child. And those firemen, strong, trained and burly, they wept as they pleaded with her, they wept- all of them- as they gently took her daughter and wrapped her up.

And there is was again, that lost look of a parent whose child is gone. That look that tears a heart in half. I dreamed for months that I found her daughter alive and well and carried her back to her mother's arms and all was right again. I dreamed it over and over again but no amount of wishing or dreaming changed it so I wrote a poem for them- about her and the gifts she had brought during her brief stay on this planet, and I gave that- a poor substitute for their baby girl, but the words were all I could find.
Months later she said, "In every language there is a word for someone who has lost their parent, in English we say 'orphan' - or someone who has lost a spouse- we say 'widow' - but no language on earth has a word for someone who has lost their child. That is how awful it is- it is unspeakable- a pain that can not be named- not in any language on earth."
I, in no way, wish to imply that there is less pain in the loss of a sibling or parent or spouse or friend. Losing anyone that you love with all the fibers of your being will tear you to pieces- there are no exceptions.
I always find myself wanting to gather those in sorrow and pain up and hold them, rock them and let them release their demons and weep with them until they have emptied themselves of the darkness and can be rekindled into light.
I want to give them back that which they have lost and make it right for them so they will no longer suffer and it is always startlingly painful that I can not do this for them. I can only weep next to them, stranger or not, and wish I was stronger and full of magic- the magic of fixing things-- Fixing the lost, the sad, the broken, the pain, the rage-- this is for both the one acting out and the ones being acted upon. I weep for all of them and that it couldn't be fixed or stopped or soothed or changed into something light and right and well. I want to fix it and make humanity well again- whether it is an individual or a country torn apart by war. I want to understand the reasons why we fight and hurt each other and why we lose something- or someone- precious-- in hopes that somehow, in that knowledge, I will know what to do to make it better, to hold peace for them so they can rest and know they are loved and held.
This race of humanity is a hard one- we strive for the light but so easily find darkness and sometimes- like The Nothing in Michael Ende's book, The Neverending Story, it takes us from ourselves, and from our loved ones- and sometimes it takes them from us and we are left keening.
So, I wrote a prayer. May this prayer ripple out- across county lines and state lines, oceans, rivers and mountains, countries and continents. May this prayer be felt in the hearts of everyone around the world so that we can know we are loved in light, so that we may heal each other:

May we all find our way back to the light together,

Helping each other to find solace when we are lost in the darkness of this magical, painful, confusing and amazingly, brilliant life. 

May we remember that the life that courses through us, connects us all.

And that in order for us to hold the light collectively, we must take the time to truly see each other.

 May we join hands in recognition of each other's individuality, and in honor of our similarities 

As we walk forward towards the light, becoming one with every step.

This is my wish, my prayer and my hope for this planet. It is my hope that this prayer can be heard around the world and answered with true peace and light from all.

More Presents? Of Course- I've Got to Get My Creative Fix!!

We are still at it- all that making of art craziness- in this house that has yet to be named. I see something- whether it is a piece of fabric or a pretty picture and suddenly I have a new idea. This time, I saw big giant dragon tears and then I saw the magnets at the dollar store and suddenly I remembered a project a few years back where the children drew tiny pictures and we Mod Podged (see- there's that indespensible Mod Podge again!) then on to the flat side of the dragon tears and then glued them on to a magnet and Wham! there was cool magnet art going on.
Inspired by the fabric covered light switch covers, we cut teeny tiny circles (well, the size of a quarter or so) and used that handy-dandy Mod Podge to put that fabric on that flat part of a giant dragon tear and once it had dried, we hot glue gunned it on to a magnet. And suddenly we could do sets- mushroom fabric light switch cover and mushroom fabric magnet!

The children got into it and had fun and we have many more to make. Up next- origami boxes to hold the magnets which will go out to local friends as gifts this holiday season.

Here a Gift, There a Gift, Everywhere a Gift, Gift

Warning: Gift spoiler alert to any family members...... Don't look if you don't want to know what you are getting for the holidays.

So much for a daily blog- "Really, I'll be on top of it- I promise! Come and read." But, uh, yes, well, things have been different. We'll use "different" because it keeps words like "good" and "bad" out of the conversation. This is not a simple situation. So much change in such short time and I am a slow processor with certain things. When thrown into a situation I can usually adapt and accommodate but with this- a life change, I am a slower adapter when it comes to the long run and the details.
I brought the enthusiasm and then I lost a little bit and a little more and things unraveled from there. But you know what started the regrouping recently? That would be the creativity needed to make gifts for family and friends.
Wracking my brain- and then I got it- Mod Podge!! I know- something I didn't know anything about as a child and since then, I have embraced.
So here is a peek at our holiday gifts- the first peek- Light Switch Covers. The switch plates were about $0.47 each (the non-breakable ones) and the fabric we had though you don't need much for these (about 3 x 5). Then there was the Mod Podge which we already had.

Using words cut from newspaper and written by hand, we Mod Podged the fabric and the words and created little works of art for our friends and family. We sealed them with a coat of polyurethane. We have other things in the works as well and I will keep posting the different treats as we create them.......
Art is one of the most healing things in the world and as far as this momma is concerned, it is a life saver.

Crazy Cabinets in the Kitchen

This old house has its issues and the kitchen which appeared in the photos to be the one room that was pretty much redone has issues too. The stick on floor tiles are popping up, the counter was never screwed down and squeaks when you lean on it and those cabinets look nice but, though solid wood (thank goodness!) are cheap and sort of, well, plain- for this momma's wild taste.
So, I considered the chalkboard paint option- one that we love, love, love but getting a bunch of colors at $13 to $15 a quart was a bit pricey on a budget that is $0. So, I went back to the drawing board. I considered painting patterns or taking panels out and inserting mesh or other things we could find to make funky door panels but then a new friend said "What about fabric?" And it evolved. What if I Mod Podged fabric on to the panel of each cabinet- except for the ones I paint with chalkboard paint?
So, the work began.

 

I carefully took each door down- some days it was one or two at a time and some days I took a bunch at a time. Between filling orders and working odd hours at my part time job, I finally finished. When I put the final coat of chalkboard paint on the three chosen panels, I sat back. The kitchen was full of color and fun and funky and suddenly everyone wanted to be in there.

The ingredients? Well, that would be: fabric, cabinet door, Mod Podge, a little cheap paint brush, foam applicator/brush thingy & polyurethane. I followed the rhythm of cutting the fabric to panel size, applying Mod Podge to the panel, carefully putting the fabric on the panel and then Mod Podging over the fabric. I did two coats of Mod Podge and once that was all done and dry, I did two coats of polyurethane. And suddenly I had cabinets that I no longer wished to replace- EVER.

As I Make My Way Back-

Back to the land of light, to the spirit of who I am and gather some of the pieces I lost- and re-establish my spiritual footprint on this good green earth, I am starting with the images that inspired and are breathing life back into me. (The incredible wood carving is done by the amazing & talented- and wonderfully kind- Ron Cowan)

It's Been Brutal- There Were Many Tears But I Think I'll Make It- I Hope

I haven't been wanting to post. I have been struggling with the changes here. The way I feel ripped wide open and lost and spun from all the newness.

My first (and, hopefully, only) venture as a single parent has been burly and I am trying to catch myself and stand up. I keep promising people I am far more balanced than I appear but how are they to know that?
There were a myriad of incidents this week that led smoothly into a culmination of craziness, to the brink of insanity. I was seriously tempted to just step off and have myself a good long nervous breakdown but, somehow, I managed to step back- I don't remember doing it but I did.

Yesterday was the worst- that was the culmination- just days after that doozy of a new moon and on the brink of one of my favorite holidays- Mabon, the Autumn Equinox.

I actually thought, "Screw this crap! I'm done, this was a huge mistake! This is the WRONG thing to do! What was I thinking? All my careful planning and this sucks!"

I called my darling husband and ranted, cried and sobbed harder than I have in a good 8 or 9 years about how I wasn't going to make it through, how I needed to lie down and take a long rest. How I was tired of battling children who each took a different path- all of them seemingly away from household chores and their mother's requests for assistance. How I was cold and it wasn't even winter and we have no heat. How I feel weak and hideously lost in the face of this potent aloneness that haunts my days and evenings.

I am not alone with my children but I am overwhelmed by the responsibility of being their sole care provider. I find myself shying away from the conflicts and the energy needed to keep them going. This move was magical. This wish for a house whose mortgage equaled a car payment every month- something that people shook their heads at- and then to find that- fulfill that wish and be faced with the reality of the dream. Surely I would not follow this long strange path away from financial security and warmer climates and all that is familiar only to lose my mind to solitude and loneliness. Surely that can't be the destiny of this epic trek.
But it felt that way. It felt like the worst mistake ever- something I couldn't take back and remedy. Something that tore our lovely family apart, separating soul mates, children and their father- all for money. The money is the key. How will we survive if we can't pay? That is what it keeps breaking down to.

How will we do this? And my damn earth sign eats away at my trust in the universe until it is tattered and torn and the panic starts.

So, the panic took me- on a long and wild ride that has left me exhausted.

I was so upset that I was certain that skipping the giant organic festival this weekend that draws people from all over, was the right decision. Why would I go? I needed to find a job- My art wasn't selling. Surely I must find something. Now. A fair is not necessary, it's not a need.

But it was. A need, that is.

I woke, got the children off to school and went to the fair. I drove and drove and then I was there. I stepped out and fought hard not to cry (there've been far too many tears in the last week) and so I walked. I walked past the farmer's market where I stopped for potted rosemary and sage- a splurge I assured myself was worth the medicine I can make from those two plants. I walked past the horse drawn carriages and the musicians, past the amazing organic food wafting at me beckoning me to come and eat, past the many wool vendors and past the artists.

I stopped, I visited-- and suddenly I realized how not alone I am. These artists, these brialliantly beautiful tree hugging, art making, wool spinning, yarn knitting, organic food growing, natural food cooking, clothing making, dirt loving, nature loving people-- these were my people. The ones that inspire me to be better and more evolved. The ones whose houses smell like a co-op and nag champa or just nature and drying herbs and brown rice. These are the people who grow and make their own medicine. These are my definition of hippie-- and I could suddenly breathe.

So far from my beloved city, the place of my familiar, I found familiar. I walked in, and among, familiar-- and I smiled (and tried not to cry).

As hard as this is turning out to be, I am beginning to believe again that this will be worth it. That we are, in fact, headed towards the light that will bouy our spirits up through the days, months and years and that we will find our joy- even if it sometimes seems that this road is impassable. That in the face of the darkness, we will always find the light- and ever evolve towards it, spiraling upwards in our ascent.

Gratitude Friday

It's Gratitude Friday and it has been one tough week- thus the reason that there aren't a lot of posts (or any) from this week-- so this is a hard won list. What's on your list?

I am grateful for:

*A strong mother who is a positive and forceful guide and inspiration to me

*Family close enough to drop in for a stay

*Aunts with fantastic energy and adventurist spirits

*The ridiculous cuteness of baby creatures

*Children who wake up every day trying to do better

*Dogs who make me smile and adore the hell out of me- and I them

*The bravery my son shows

*The enthusiasm my eldest daughter shows on the soccer field 

*The voracious reading my littlest does

*The special animal connection that third child of mine has and the way she smiles and laughs

*A husband who stays calm in the face of my crazy phones calls and emails when things fall apart

*My couch

*The sunshine

*Weather just cold enough that I can snuggle under duvets at night

*Autumn in the air

*A laundromat 10 minutes away

*A fridge that seems to have repaired itself at least for the present

*Fresh food from friendly neighbors

The View Up Here

The children started school and I was suddenly surrounded by quiet. I haven't ever had that experience- the solitude so often experienced by parents when children shuffle off to school hasn't ever been in my scope of experience.

It has been working at the children's school, one too young for school and/or homeschooling- never me, just me, alone. What a concept. The dogs were here of course- draping their large and small bodies all over the house where ever the sun hit the floor through those many windows. I didn't know what to do. I honestly didn't.

There were so many things I could do- call my mother, workout, clean up, do laundry, bake, felt, walk the dogs, choose paints, go grab those groceries we ran out of- so many options. Of course we had the appointment to have the furnace serviced to prep for those cold months headed our way. So that's what happened- the furnace got up and running (not that it is needed quite yet) and then I walked over to see a neighbor. It was on the way home that I crossed the bridge and looked down at the water below. 

It was flowing slowly (it's still low) and I stopped to watch the fish and the rocks below. The view was amazing and all I could think was "Is this real? Is this what a day alone is like- me, my dogs and the river? Wow."
Maybe I'll get the hang of this soon- or maybe I will flounder a bit and stop to watch the river flow and the leaves turn and fall to earth. We shall see but the view is not to be missed.

The Bad Days

As much as I would have everyone think it is all hunky-dory over here, it would be a lie. There is always a hard side- a difficult day or week- or month.
I ran into my first really hard days here- I missed my friends and community. I just thought "What have I done?! What was I thinking?!" I was terrified. I had to start out new and I'm not getting any younger and I have these amazing children to take care of and I was overwhelmed and scared of anything and everything that could go wrong.

My heart hurt with it. I was full of dread and I called my beloved and told him and he said, "I know it will be fine. It will. There is a reason for all of this." And he was comforting and gentle and kind and I got off the phone and cried- long and hard. Unconvinced and tired from my grief and fear.
It was a hard week to work through. That fear of the unknown- the uncontrolled- the fact that control is an illusion to begin with. All of this tore at me. And then, yesterday, I felt a shifting and had the sudden drive to pull the eiderdowns out and prepare them- even though it was 80 outside. I woke up to 59 degrees in my room- the old windows thrown wide for the fresh night air and I was grateful for the blankets as were the children who were hunkered down with the dogs and cat. In my lost place I had followed an intuition in this new place that told me to pull those warm things out. It didn't make sense to me but I followed it.

It was the first day that felt like autumn was moving in and I had to smile at that lift in the air- that little piece of energy that makes you think that if you turn in just the right direction and close your eyes and lean into that wind a little bit you just might take flight. Pure magic. And the fear, it will ebb and flow and I will learn how to let it go and live with it and trust the deep places that tell me to be patient- that tell me to love the now in everything.

Gratitude Friday

It's Gratitude Friday here and I have a new list- how about you? Please share what you are grateful for....

I am grateful for:

*The blessing of a blue moon on this special day
*The working furnace even if we don't need it yet

*The mysterious flat of delicious, fresh tomatoes that arrived on my doorstep

*The smiles and waves from the town folk- known and unknown- as they drive by my house

*The friendly bus driver and the fact that she is taking the children to school leaving my days more open and free

*The neighbor who talks of spirits and old times and the way things feels more than the way they look

*The river that flows constantly through our lives here

*A husband I can't get enough of and want to talk to all the time

*A mother who is supportive, creative and constantly optimistic

*Children who are kind, good hearted and smile more often than not

*The opportunity to teach locally

*The possibility of a good job for my husband

*The kind people who offer their help and support on a continual basis

*A furnace guy who teases, smiles and offers viable and creative options to heat our home

*The sale prices at Sears at a time when our fridge is on its last leg

*Hardwood floors- even ones that need refinishing- because they are beautiful

*Happy dogs

*Food to eat and bake and cook

*The local ice cream place

*A doctor covered by our insurance 

*The sense of work ethic and responsibility my son is gaining as he hays local fields with new friends

*A strong heart and pensive mind

Piecing It All Together

 I settled into the complacency of not doing anything more to this house so desperately in need of having things done. Since we aren't sure how finances will go and how we will earn a living, we have to tread carefully on what needs to be done and what we want to do.
Currently it is the question of heating for the upcoming winters months- the house is large- not To the Manor Born large- but big. So, the heating will be tricky in this colder climate and wood stoves will be necessary and- low and behold- there isn't a one to be found in this house.

So, painting and patching and all that, well, it doesn't feel as pressing.
When I recently visited a friend's 200 year old farmhouse, I was amazed. It was inspiring- 42 years of loving work was put into that house and it is gorgeous. I came home and looked around and thought "Hm, maybe I should paint a couple rooms- only a couple." And began to wonder which ones need it. Well, the ones that need it most can't have it done yet so it will have to be the ones that aren't desperate because those need drywall too. Se la vie.

So, it is about choosing the colors and shades and figuring it all out as things come up. We will get there- it may be years but we will get there.

Gratitude Fridays

There isn't enough gratitude in the world. Lots of complaints- from me too- and lots of TISU (That Is So Unfair from this post) and it made me think that perhaps a practice of taking at least one day a week to be grateful and to list those pieces in a conscious way would be good. The glass is half full, right?
So, I am proclaiming Gratitude Fridays. I welcome comments on what other people are grateful for. Spreading gratitude will change the world.

I am grateful for:

A stove that works
A house that I love and the roof it puts over our heads
My family and the love they give
My husband and the hard work he puts into keeping this whole thing moving
My dogs and the smiles and enthusiasm they bring to life every single day
My cat who has finally become a kindred spirit after about 8 years
A comfortable couch to relax on
Good books
2 fantastic drying racks and a laundry line with pulleys
My daughter's new found love of soccer
My other daughter's unique style and enthusiasm for animals, food and funky clothing
A relatively clean house
The new friends my son has found
The new friends my daughters have found
$1 movie nights at the local movie theater and a child old enough to go with friends
A big back yard
A clean river to spend time in
The people we are meeting
A loving, hard working husband who is giving up so much to provide our family with the help we need to make this happen
My mother and aunt and all the amazing work they put into to helping us
The workers who have helped fix, hook up and make good this home
The fact that there are fewer mosquitoes in the house this week than last
That we aren't reacting to the mosquitoes as much as we were before and so we no longer look like we have chicken pox
That fridge is still working at this moment
The good people who surround me in this new place

What are you grateful for?

Adjusting to the Slowness After All This Time

This may end up being a "part one" of many as I am sure there are more adjustments to be had to this slowness.
My days are different than before. There is a slowness that is delicious and seeps in without conscious effort to flow through the day and color it accordingly.

Before, in the city, I would wake up and wander into the kitchen to make food- or not- the children were pretty hip on the whole quick oatmeal front. Funny since I love old fashion oats but they liked that they could quickly prep their own oatmeal and flavor it to preference (usually honey, butter, cinnamon and a splash of vanilla extract). Then I floundered a bit, not sure where to put myself even after so many years in one lovely place. I called friends and tried to make plans - to keep busy and social. I am so social afterall.

Now, I wake up, walk down with three happy dogs around my feet- so happy at the prospect of right now and life- period- to let them out. I gaze at the yard and our little woods and the river and shake my head in wonder- this little parcel of land with everything that was on our wish list back when we were trying to manifest this that people thought was impossible.
Then I put the kettle on and some oatmeal with raisins and almonds- all organic from my thoughtful mother who made sure my cupboard, freezer and refrigerator were full when we arrived- with all my favorite foods (can you say 8 packages of breakfast sausage??!) and look around at this house to see where my efforts will be best used for the day. I know, it has only been a couple weeks but it feels new and fresh with wonder every day- and old and worn in with love from us and others- all at once. I know this place and my heart is settling in to what is- this house is alive and it speaks with love everyday to everyone who crosses the threshold.

I give the dogs their food on the back deck- following the pack order carefully so that there is no confusion- and then the cat wanders up to cuddle and I give her her bowl.
This morning I cleaned the stove- the big gas range that happened to arrive with the house and thought,  "Thank you for this stove- it serves us well, thank you."
I opened the fridge to retrieve milk for the tea and remembered the dairies I had driven past with the same image from the carton in my hand on the side of the barns and smiled that I had seen those cows in the fields and barns.

  

I let the dogs in and watched them wag their tails and smile at me- they do that you know- dogs smile a lot- like dolphins-- some species on this planet just have it down pat. Don't we all need more smile lines?

Then the children started coming down and the oatmeal was self served and we talked about the rest of the day- the visit to the middle school for a tour and to meet the cool principal in person (someone who was talking astrology with me within 10 minutes of our initial phone conversation), errands to run including grabbing hotdogs for a bonfire in the back later today.

And through all this there is no urgency- no feeling that I am being pressured to move faster. The funniest part is that I didn't know that I was feeling the urgency to move faster than my natural pace before now- before the urgency fell away. But I understand this now.
I understand that without meaning to there was an energy of constant motion and constant needs that should be met but the origin of those needs were so ancient and old that they were almost unidentifiable. So, I answered them by thinking that I must go out and do and earn money and buy things and purchase a life that looked right and full- though anyone will tell you I am not a big spender at all.

But there was a drive to fill a hole somewhere deep inside and now, as I remember the depth of that dark night sky full of stars, uninterrupted by city lights that we saw last night from the back deck. And I wonder at the shooting star we saw blaze across the blackness. And as we watched those bats dipping and diving for mosquitoes (another thank you), I realized that the hole in me was filled by the presence of the natural world around me. That ache that was so present that it looked like so may other things and was therefore never full, was suddenly less, only a whisper, as it was soothed.
I wonder how many ailments we have that would be healed by moving into nature, settling into the country and quiet and looking up at that night sky.

Would we find ourselves in the rustle of the leaves?
In the sway of the grass in the fields?
In the flow of the water of oceans and rivers?
Would we see ourselves and the star dust we are made of up in the dome of that infinite black sky?
I don't know about you but I'm up for the journey to self and I can only wonder how we got so far from ourselves and all the soil, leaves, stars and dew drops we came from.

These Are NOT the Cartoons of My Childhood

I don't know how many people have noticed how different cartoons are now but I have- on those few times we have seen them. In fact, I am disturbed when I have had the misfortune to watch them. Since when does Velma and Shaggy get crushes and kiss each other? What is that craziness? And when did the Smurfs start swearing- granted "smurfity smurf smurf and smurf" isn't cussing but it is close enough.-- Not that I am opposed to swearing in certain circumstances but still- it's a Smurf for goodness sake! Where's the innocence?

I'm going to date myself here but when I was a kid it was the Saturday morning cartoons on USA network- only for that one year my mom let us watch once in a while. The Grape Grape Ape was a favorite and the Smurfs, HeMan, She-Ra, My Little Pony and Rainbow Bright. All those old shows- not to mention the Flintstones, the Jetsons and others. Back when they were not digital and computerized. But now, it seems they can just bang them out without much thought or enthusiasm and though we don't even an own a tv, it is frustrating that on the rare occasions we want to watch an old cartoon of sorts, they are hard to find.

It's like the newer Nancy Drew and Hardy Boy books they brought out when I was a teen in hopes of catering to the new generation- a presumably less innocent generation by the books in that series I read. Suddenly, the Hardy Boys were toting machine guns (well, maybe not quite but it was close) and then there was the one book where Nancy makes out with one of the Hardy Boys. Where did that come from?? Is this perhaps a time when a sequel or spin off is a bad idea? I would have to vote yes on that one.

And as silly as it seems it kind of speaks to the fast pace we keep in this day and age- everything faster, more "convenient"-- and quality so often is left behind. Now, mind you, I am not saying cartoons are particularly quality but there is something to be said about the old Flintstones, the Jetsons and the like- there was this feeling that someone really put a lot into it- they drew them, wrote them and designed them. They were homemade cookies and now- well, now they are store bought and it's just sort of a sad thing.
I'm just not so into the store bought cookies and the various forms they take these days.

The Creatures That Live Here

There are so many furry friends around here- the 30 odd cats next door, the cows, the horses and neighborhood dogs.

Our own lovely dogs (including our new addition who had been awaiting a home for about 3 weeks at a local shelter before we happened upon each other- more on that later) bask in the glow of a giant fenced yard where they can run and leap, a river at the edge of this wonderland, a big house and plenty of people hugging, petting, cuddling and feeding them all day long. The guinea pigs who weet and eat and weet and eat and get fawned over all the time. The cat, suddenly restricted to the indoors, is being loved on and massaged and getting almost annoyed by all the attention she receives. She deals with it rather well by going upstairs to the bathroom and getting stoned (catnip style) and sleeping on the window seat where she can occasionally open an eye and glance out the window. She's such a stoner.

I am certainly an animal person but I fall into the dog-person category if pressed to make a choice. Which is not to say that I don't sincerely love cats and all sorts of other animals. I find that it happens to many people - this strange preference for either dogs or cats-- though I don't run into many people who are opposed to a particular species.

The idea of all the chicks, ducklings, goslings, goats, possible piglets and so much more headed our way makes me quake with joyful anticipation and fills my heart.

But right now, we are cuddling our dogs and cat and befriending the human and animal beings around us and reveling the goodness around us. What a world to live in....