Something Important

There was something important I had to do this morning even before taking a shower. I woke up with an inexplicable urge to put nesting materials out for the birds. 

Hurrying to the basement, I harvested handfuls of dryer lint and wads of old used fabric softener sheets from the little trash can I keep in the laundry room. For once I was grateful that my husband never fully completes the job of taking out the trash. I found several week's worth of lint and dryer sheets... 

...then to the studio to raid my stash of left-over cotton yarn balls too little to make anything with but too good to throw away.

I sliced up strips of dryer sheets, cut strands of yarn, and fluffed up the lint to make it easier to be carried by beaks. Grabbing a sweater I rushed outside in pajama pants and slippers carrying the new home construction materials, all the while planning their easily accessible placements.

The deck table provided a good spot for a basket of soft white strips.

A basket of lint was placed on a post...

...and another found a home in the peach tree.

Colorful yarn strands were hung on the boxwood....

...and on forsythia branches.

Don't think I didn't go unnoticed. The birds saw me in their territory right away. One yelled in a staccato voice, "Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!"

Another asked, "What-Cha-Do? What-Cha-Do? What-Cha-Do?"

A bright red cardinal perched on the birdfeeder must have approved because he cocked his head and chirped, "Pretty! Pretty! Pretty!" before flitting away.

Now I wait, wait, wait, wait.
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?
I'm going to take a shower and feel pretty, pretty, pretty.



Mosaic Monday: March Rain

aI decided to join in on the fun at Little Red House and post a collage for Mosaic Monday. 

Rain, rain go away
Come again another day.



More Home

Home is...
A vintage tray that holds my stuff

 Black pens, highlighters, & all the stuff that I need to write

But home is really...

A Daughter

A Son
And the light of my life, a Grandson that calls me Mimi

As the age old cliche goes, home is where the heart is


Home...Post 2

Home is warm and safe when the world is cold and dangerous.

Home is generations of love.

Home is a room of one's own in which to create.

Home is a place to be generous.

Home is where grandchildren bring their own special brand of joy.

Home is a snug bed and a good book at the end of the day.




This week Nana and I will be posting photos that say "home" to us. 

Home is...

Beef stew & biscuits made from scratch with love

Brown eggs, locally gathered, resting in my mother's and her mother's Bennington dish

A first time making tapioca that turned out a delicious success

Home is baking, cooking, and using fresh ingredients. It's flowers in a teapot, mix and match silverware, and a crocheted lace table cloth my mother created all supported by a sturdy old walnut table that could tell the tales of generations if tables could talk.  



Seriously Seeking Spring

It’s been a long winter, but March is here and there’s snow glistening on the ground while overhead sunshine beams down and the world smells fresh and clean. How could I not venture outdoors on such a day? Could I find evidence of the promise of spring?

I looked up and beyond the branches of the tree in the front yard a dazzling blue canopy hung happy in the heavens. 

A few yards down the street bud-bedecked branches reached for spring...

With camera in hand and the sun warming my face I walked on toward the ornamental flowering fruit trees that create a lovely aisle of late-spring blossoms.  New buds positioned close to shriveled fruit seemed to be nudging the old out.

Across the highway and down a dead-end street a stand of trees flanked a creek where sunlight created a starry morning against the trickle of water.   
A few days later and the sun shines warmer.  A high in the 50s will melt what's left of the snow and I believe spring is just around the corner.
"No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn."  
~Hal Borland



something simple to share:

Tulips in the window on a winter day.