Mother's Day

Something magical about this day, I have to admit.

I try to not buy into the "Hallmark Holidays" (Valentines day, Secretaries day, Grandparents day, Pet day) Holidays that I feel were made up to generate overly-priced card and flower sales. But Mother's Day? Yes - I'll take it! Not for the Hallmark cards and store bought flowers - but for the simplest moments of love and grace. 

Some moments I want to remember today: 

Norah waking up at 3am (thinking it was morning) and asking me as she sleepily heads down stairs 'Mommy, are you hungry yet?"  

Norah waking up at 6am and asking me "Mommy, are you hungry yet?"

Eating my blueberry muffin in bed at 6:04am with Norah snuggling by my side

Homemade cards made with love 

Lots of hugs and kisses 

A sunny, warm morning - forsythias in bloom!

Coffe on my porch in the spring sunshine

A phone call to my mama

 French toast made by Caleb with butter and warm maple syrup

A Skype session with Emma (far away in Potsdam)

Lots of help in my gardens - with more hugs and kisses

A mud pie 

A walk with Norah picking dandelions

Beehives!  

(Not really part of my mother's day gift - but delightful just the same)

Flowers from a friend who biked up the hill today

An amazing and satisfying dinner made by my husband 

Enjoyed with family close (and friend)

Sitting on the porch at sunset, listening to bobolinks singing their funny R2D2 song and watching them joyfully swoop in the field 

And look at this! The hills are turning green again - spring is here to stay!

Small moments, yes. A string of moments that make up a day. This space, this blog, gives me an opportunity to absorb and assimilate some of these small moments, lest I forget. It's like sitting in a rocking chair on the porch at the end of the day - any day! - when all the work is done. Reflecting on all of the little gifts you've been given without expectation. Receiving them. Saying thank you. 

"Journal-keepers are creating a life-long record of their encounters. The habit of granting each day its singularity lays the groundwork for seeing into the hidden seasons, and seasons-within-seasons. The seasons, and thousands of other things that move us, reveal themselves in unmeasurable phenomena, like Thoreau’s “sheeny light” on the bent grass in the meadows."

Today was a good day

Lest I forget.

~ j

Right now  I am:

-Listening to the rain and the first distant thunderstorm of the season.

- Happy to have the windows wide open - to have slept last night to a symphony of peepers, coyotes and wind.

- Enjoying the field of green I see outside my window. 

- Loving this Wyeth-esque view from an upstairs window.

- Wearing my first summer dress of the year.

- Smelling the corn muffins Norah is baking (made them all by herself!)- and thinking about how good they will taste with some mint tea.

- Noticing how pretty those eggs in my egg basket are - in abundance now that the days are longer!

- Enjoying this Mother's Day gift made of construction paper, Elmers Glue, and 2nd grade sweetness.

- Realizing my construction paper and Elmers Glue Mother's Day gifts will be coming to an end in a couple of years.

- Remembering all the mommies in my life: the amazing circle of woman whom I learn from and lean on and am inspired by every day.  

- Thinking about my own mama - my grandmothers, and great-grandmothers, and great-great grandmothers.

 -Grateful that they loved and brought me here.

~ j

   

Things are growing around here.

Our garden plot has been tilled and we optimistically planted the first of our spring seeds on a chilly grey day in the still-cool earth. 

In a few months this empty plot of land will be filled with a jungle of green: plants and weeds alike will be fighting for space to live, and we will (with any luck) be spending a lot of our time tending to this little patch of earth.

The seedlings we planted indoors last month have begun to look like the plants they are - peas, tomatoes, basil, zinnias, onions are all awaiting their time to be put in the earth (when it becomes just a little warmer ;) )  

Our chicks arrived in early April:

And now, 4 weeks later:

Change is all around me - daily -

 as the earth shifts before my eyes from white

- to brown 

- to green.  

Color popping out of the earth and sky like jewels.

Here's to all things growing.

~ j

As we settle into Spring we find the days are getting warmer, and more work is to be done outside as we begin to clean yard, coop, and porch and ready for the productive and oh so glorious days of summer.

Some of these days still retain the coolness of winter and

 I find solace in the friendly sun greeting me earlier in the morning and staying with me later into the evening.  More of a constant companion! 

On these cooler spring days, I find a spot next to a sunny window - eyes closed, face turned up to soak in the warmth and brightness. A smile spreads across my face.

 Yes this will do just fine...for now.

~ j

"I had a dream I found a baby girl in our barn!" a then 11 year old Emma excitedly told me upon waking.  Emma wanted a baby sister and thought this might be an omen.

9 months later Norah came into our lives. I always tell Emma she willed Norah to us.

When Norah was born, the nurse looked at her and said "Norah is a strong name. She will be a strong woman."  She said it like she knew. 

In a family with 2 Libras and 2 Cancers - plenty of water and air - Norah is our earth.  She is our Taurus.  She is intelligent, strong (body and will!), comforting, steady and reassuring. Her strong will sometimes gets her in trouble (bedtime anyone?)- but I know it will serve her as she grows.  

In addition to her strength and intelligence she is full of little-girl-magic: singing, dancing, make-believe, belly-laughs, sparkles and glam.  In this moment she is still in a realm of innocence - and I treasure this moment - I know that these next few years are a threshold.


Emma gave me a gift  when Norah was born -  a tiny matchbox with Norah's newborn picture tucked inside like a little treasure. On top of the box she wrote:

"You've gone

through a lot

and have had 

good times

and poor -

in this box 

is what you've 

been working for."

Since then, I've added 2 more wee pictures to that box - for all 3 of my loves I am most grateful and humbled.  And today - on her 8th birthday, for Norah.

timeless |ˈtīmlis|

adjective

not affected by the passage of time 

 I am unconsciously drawn to images, moments and people who are not affected by the passage of time. Which, I think,  explains my attraction to this old home and these surrounding hills and valleys. 

Driving through through the hills of East Otto it could be now, or 100 years ago. A car or telephone line will give away the true date - but look closer and you will see the valleys unchanged by time; the slow and deeply etched lives that resonate here. 

 Being a child of the 1980's it seems impossible, this attraction - seeing as I was culturally inundated by the materialistic confection of the 80's.  But I was fortunate enough to have a place to go with my family that was the essence of timelessness.  An old farmhouse my Grandpa bought when my father was a boy.  Each weekend I would step out of suburbia, and the leave the plastic, flash and glitter of the 1980's, and let my soul drink in the essence of the old wooden house and surrounding hills.  Oh - I wasn't an enthusiastic participator at the time! And I was known to smuggle some of that flash and glitter with me if I could.  But the hills eventually worked their magic on me - and now I am deeply grateful for the times spent there with my dad, mom and brother; cousins, aunts and uncles, grandma and grandpa.  How precious that experience, and how it has shaped me into who I am today.

Things of fad, media, pop culture hold no allure to me - no value. My heart sings at the lo' of a cow in the pasture down the road - the slow walk to the barn to gather the smooth warm eggs - the low light in the evening untouched by the flashing blue lights of a TV.  And the deep sense of calm in knowing that as time goes on - some things will always remain. 

~ j

The birth of spring is a promise. 

This was the hardest winter in a long, long time.  Relentless snows, unending frigid temperatures, endless grey skies. We can fight and resist and complain - or walk hand in hand with the seasons, embracing all of their moods. 

Because no matter how fierce, how bitter, how biting; the cycles of the seasons promise us:  - All will be green again! - All will be fragrant again! - All will be alive again!

Isn't that promise enough?

 I must admit,  March and I have never gotten along. I used to despise the muddy, ugly, cold and rainy month. I would put on my spring clothes even though the temps were still barely past 40 as if, by doing so, magically, spring would appear. I would complain. A lot. I would resist. A lot.

I've made peace with March.

Now I  meet March as she is.  Unkempt, unpredictable - mud and all!  I don my mud boots, winter coat and hat (for one more month).I walk up and face her and smile knowingly. Because I know….

I know she is only preparing us for what comes next:  

The first signs are inevitable.  For all of time, the birds have returned to build their nests and the grass and buds have risen out of the cold earth. 

 We wait.  We trust. 

And our hearts soar at the first signs of spring.

~ j