One Morning at the Farm

Spent my morning at my best friend's backyard homestead. Visited with Burdie & the girls.


Ophelia enjoyed watching the chickens,


She even was motivated to check out the raised beds.


Pulling carrots,


Admiring the onions


We were even sent home with some produce & eggs!
Lunch was compliments of the farm experience,
A yummy salad, warm from the sun.
The experience made me so excited for our own homestead...

Top

Feeling oh so inspired to make something for my little lady....this is the pillowcase dress. Ophelia who is now on the move, often times is impeded by her dresses while trying to get to her brothers across the room. I decided why not a top? I love the way it turned out. Perhaps when she's walking I will make the dress, till then I think I will work on bottoms to match.

When I see beauties like this
Resting in the Shoprite parking lot, I feel a little blessed.
The rarity of sighting so old, but running, gives me a thrill. I feel the need to take the photos. So I remember.
Makes me think of my Dad, my grandfather & my husband. The greasy hands, the struggle to maintain or to get those old ponies out there on the street.
& the feeling of the ride.

bee balm

Bee Balm
Also known as Bergamot
when taken as an infusion
is good for many ailments
headaches, nausea, sore throats
to name a few...

Today
as I sat in traffic,
with no directions, a crying baby & hungry boys,
already late for a party
& only a faint idea on how to get there
I started to weep
I brought my hand to my face
& caught the scent of it
which transported me to
the morning
where I sought a moment, alone
& went to our old garden
upon arriving I beheld
with great surprise
the bee balm that I had planted
last year
grown full & overflowing the narrow brick border
the honey bees were gathered
and busy, & although I was hesitant to disturb them
I felt compelled to pick a few
bring them into my world of toys and cooking

It was
the scent liongering on my
fingers
a true balm for my frazzled
weary soul

Trumpet

If I pretend quite enough
The car horns I hear in the night
Could be these amazing flowers
Sending their music
Through the window
To herald their summer magic.

What's he building in there?

This old nugget
Rests on the top of Chestnut Hill
It appears to be empty
But,
I can faintly hear a tink, tink
& can only imagine
What's he building in there?

Camping

Visited Hickory Run State Park,
Communed with nature
Ate s'mores
Listened to thunder & rain in the quite night approach
Cradled a feverish baby
Watched a mama bird feed her babies under the eaves
Swam in a lake
Watched the baby splash and kick
Smiled.



& returned to boulder field after a 32 year sojourn
I think this time I will remember it.

the fernery

price of age

Its beginning.
The lines deeper around my eyes,
my abundant cheeks falling.
Its in my hands with their veins,
my hair corse with gray poking through.
My joints, aching
my hips stiffening on rainy days.
My eyes, weakening from all the reading in the dark.  (My parents were right)
My scars in abundance, tracing lines on this old familiar.

& with all that I feel in my body,
what I see of myself,
I have never felt joy deeper.
The absolute delight of a sunny day.
The joy of playing freely with my children in the afternoon light.

The price of age.