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-