Monday, June 22, 2009

The birds have it




Good mid-morning to you, it's too hot to mow, too hot to weed, too hot to even think about too much...ooooh boys, it's hot!!! Ah heck, you probably figured that one out already if you're a Midwesterner...we've had alot of moisture as of late along with the glorious sunshine mixing it up and creating the ever loving weather phenomena that we call humidity- see how close the word resembles humility?? Hmmmm, both are humbling...perhaps bringing you down upon your knees, I suppose I look at words more these days as Lily has decided to study Linguistics...very interesting, yes indeed. She's got the brains and patience for learning the many languages and roots of words...hopefully she'll share all that knowledge with me so that I may actually back up a bit and give more depth to my sentences ( with mucho less words...I am a bit of an enthusiastic express-er of too many, ummm...words....but, you knew that, and still you follow, out of curiosity or madness, either way- I will give you your fill of words and their quirky meanings according to my untamed expression of them.)



Well, much like the rain these days- quite the overflow above there, that last paragraph, hmmmm...perhaps I ought to go mow anyhow. Thanks for listening, I sure have been fatigued lately, dead dog tired as they say. Is it just the heat do you suppose, or the massive undertaking going on right now in selling a farm and relocating, or hormones or is it all of the above?!



Well, whatever it is, I hope it goes away in time that I might actually enjoy the look and feel of a farm at it's very pretty best. Perhaps it is the lack of chaos recently that has left me feeling as if I'm too tired to relax, too taxed to really rest. Aren't we a funny race, when things go well we wonder what's up? And when things get rocky we wonder how long do we have to endure this tortuous trail??!!



But then, I get to noticing the little birds all about, the Catbird with it's really pathetic "mew" calls, and yet it seems perfectly smitten with it's surroundings and self. And the little wren that sits on the cedar right off the porch, this beauty of a little thing that warbles the loudest little melody, I can't help but wonder how such a tiny bird could muster up such a big song! And then I peered through my binoculars yesterday and spied the oddest little sparrow-like bird with black beak and beard and white ring around it's neck, couldn't identify this particular bird in my book, wondering if it could be perhaps European Sparrow? If any of you birders out there might help me, I'd appreciate it. Brown thrushes in the hedge, beautiful creatures quite acrobatic. The birds have it. My gaze, my wonder my utmost thanks for all who gather here and call this little humble abode home. More words...less mowing, now is the moment to get it in gear and tackle the lawn care. Take care-


And please if you will, follow the link below- my friend Kristine is a writer/blogger/gardener and she said some very kind things and filled me straight up with all the good stuff.



Beauregard Farm


Monday, June 15, 2009

a heap of effort





In three weeks time we have done so much to make this little place of heaven I call home- even more gorgeous. My Big Fish has been here with his shoulder to the heave, sweat upon his brow, loving kind and gentle as always. He made his exit yesterday, late and lacking a proper gate time, missed his plane although he never complained at all. We made a bed out of doors and slept under the stars, as if we were in a palace made for two under the Almighty's right gaze. Each morning he greeted me with "Hello sweetheart, what's on the agenda today?" And it never mattered even one little bit if there was too much upon the plate, he dug right in, consumed with love and loyalty and a strong gentleness I have never known in another, I miss him so right now. But! The walls and floors, the attic and sheds, all done up right and ready for the next most bless-ed inhabitants. (And I could not have whipped it all into shape without the help of my most devoted friends- I truly do not know what I ever did in this life to deserve such loving support and encouragement.)




Moving is like molasses in a straw, sure takes a heap of effort to get it fluidly in motion. There hasn't been a day since I last wrote that hasn't been an all consuming moving experience. (Though moving is not the proper word...) This isn't moving, this is trudging along, a heave and a ho and a let that thing go, throw that thing away and wait a minute...that goes in my "Mom" box - just because.


Flat tires on old trucks, trees missing limbs, cedars splitting down the middle, Etta finding her way under my tire, (she's OK, her little leg is awful sore though), sleeping in a truck bed, sleek shiny floors, wet painted walls, flowers all in bloom, lawn looking lush- oh why oh why didn't I leave three months ago? Wouldn't have mattered I suppose, always beautiful, this place called Beauregards, always something, always more...winter spring summer fall, memories galore, tears and laughter joy and pain, wouldn't trade any of it, not an ounce of misfortune or beautiful remnant from a most beautiful day.



Waiting on an offer, offering more than anyone can know on first glance. This place will grow on a person's soul and they'll know what I know if their eyes are open and their hearts are true.

Listed and such last week, love for sale...freedom from the fray and Oh! The sunsets...





Take care-

Monday, June 1, 2009

if the boxes became butterflies....


Good morning and where have I been, you wonder to yourselves...or maybe, like me- this gorgeous May has got you all pretty darn busy, interests changing daily, and you just don't read the old blog-0-sphere stories so frequently. That's good. The sunshine and the rain, the flowers that respond because of all these wonderful planetary seasonal changes- good things to notice, good stuff that fills you right up and sticks to your ribs like a good meal. Oh my, that's five goods in a row there...hope I'm on to something!

Listen, you keep busy and I'll keep on cleaning out the attic of too many tears and surprises and stuff! And let's say we'll meet back here in, oh-I don't know, a few days?! I've been taking alot of pics, so beautiful, always beautiful, typically beautiful- is that a good thing?! The farm is sure doing it's naturally gorgeous best to sale itself. Except- it did not come with a self cleaning attic...

(...imagine what the world would be like if all our stuff that didn't really hold any true value after all would just evolve...if the boxes became butterflies and floated off into the wild blue yonder...if the pictures from long ago and far away, the ones that make you smile and remember so vividly, the love or the ones that make you cry and yearn for a smidgen of a yesterday that you could just hug one more time...imagine if you could take your finger and touch that spot from way back when and bring it to the present and somehow wrap it up and keep it safe...that's what attics are good for, I guess. You wrap things up, keep them safe, and eventually realize...the keepsakes aren't keepers after all- they are to be realized I suppose and then, like those box butterflies- they are to be let go...nothing grows in an attic- not memories, nor love...only cobwebs.)

So, in a few days friends, I'll be back- intact and armed to the teeth with my photo brigade of the beauty of Beauregards. Take care-