Where seeds of thought have room to grow
Category: My Country Life
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I opened the mailbox Friday morning on my way to work, expecting the usual foul contents – bills and junk mail. And there it was, sitting on top of the pile like a glittering jewel – a package containing a T-shirt from my artistic, doodling, blogging friend Cyndee Starr, aka She Who Doodles. …
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Summer and autumn traded places while I was gone. The purple flowers have faded, and the splashes of gold have moved from the blossoms that used to line the road up to the trees. It's amazing the change a few days can make. “Friends show their love in times of trouble.” ~ Euripes I…
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Ping-pong season has arrived! Afternoon temperatures are still flirting with the 90's, but cool fronts have pushed the mosquitos and most of the humidity off of the front porch, so Tom set up the table Saturday afternoon and we played for the first time in months, listening to music and talking about random…
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I'm adding these leaves to a bouquet Nancy at A Rural Journal is gathering for fellow blogger Leontien at Four Leaf Clover Dairy , to show her she's in the hearts and minds of many. Leontien is battling melanoma for the second time. The leaves are budding from a tree near the creek we thought we'd lost…
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Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers, why not gather your own bouquet? ~ unknown For the first time in almost a week, I went for a walk with my puppies this morning. I had a chance to work at the elementary school, but I turned it down, and I've only…
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Last week Tom discovered a dead turkey down near our little pond. There were no signs of violence or obvious cause of death. We suppose it died of natural causes. I'm sure that happens occasionally in nature, doesn't it? Well, Belle was with him that day. We're not sure if she acted alone, or if…
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So here I am, walking through the woods in the gray light of morning, ducking under barbed wire, dodging scraggly cedar branches, stepping over fallen logs. My puppies are a dozen feet away, noses to the ground, investigating rocks and brush and just oozing with the joy of life, as usual. I come to the…
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We stood on a small hill Friday night, Tom and I, waiting for the Blue Moon to make its appearance. This hill is just a small rise in a neighborhood down the road. A weathered asphalt road, gated at the bottom, winds to the top. I guess someone planned to build a home up there,…
Long Hollow 