In Between and Starting

 Some rooms stories come round full circle...a little like this one...

                                                     
I haven't really been by my blog much lately. There always seems to be something else just a bit more urgent. 
We have tackled a few little 'spruce me ups' around here....

                                  

                                               a spot to write..
                         

It always starts somewhere, and this one began with freshly painted walls...

                      waiting for its first visit from daughter..
I have been wanting to try an all white room for some time. There is so many lovely ones here in blogland...

  the before; originally it had four colours when my youngest two shared it.   While it was cute for a while, they were happy to leave it and head to a bedroom in our basement..It waited like this for a while before it's walls were transformed into a more elegant mood..                                          

                                                   
 another lifetime's...

story..
                                                     

                                                           
    Simplicity and solitude..                                                       

                                         a quiet corner..

Then we decided we would also rip up the old carpet in the bedrooms here on the main floor, and put in laminate. It is a refreshing change, and I am quite pleased with hubby's hard work.

                     (had fun painting this desk for in here...)


Sometimes it's a scary thought that I have a spare bedroom. When all five children lived here, space was a premium, but time passes all too quickly with one daughter married, and suddenly there is a room to redo for second  daughter when she comes 'home -home' as she calls it. 
                                            

                                                            sweet dreams...


 I have also started working part time at a restaurant. I've enjoyed the change that it brings to my life without compromising too much of my valued time at home.
                                          

                         found the art work at a thrift store, I thought it was perfect..

So there in between life's coming and going. The having and holding, the silence and songs, I stumble than soar and start over again.

                                                                 

                                      
                             coming together with a few final touches..

            
                       Thank you for visiting my new white room!

Saturday Stroll

This morning afforded me a rather rare commodity these days....

with three of my girls still snoozing in their beds and hubby and son off to work on a job elsewhere, I found myself strolling through the sun drenched morning with my camera in hand...

the whole world has burst into a song of green and I for one am a rapt audience....

      down the patio stairs through the shrub arbour...(sometimes forgetting to prune can be a good thing:)

there is love, there is duty...

                                                       then there is lilacs.....

                                                       still.

                                        the sheep and horses have returned to pasture....

                                                         potential in a pile of gravel...

                                   

                                            my hubby makes these beautiful cement birdbaths...

                                             my vegetable garden is slowly coming to life...

I continue my stroll...past silent swings

                                          floral fusions...

                                       
         to the front ;where the morning sun lends itself to tranquility in the shadowed yard

 I see the tree. Last week I came home one day to see the crew of hydro workers cutting off some of the trees that were growing too close to the wires. I know they were simply doing their job, but it made me sad...I remember thinking to myself.....trees are like children. We think they are ours, but they're not really. :)

I have planted some of my planters. Took this baby in the last few nights as there has been a risk of frost...

                                    a favorite spot to sit in the afternoon...

                                        Back inside I pour myself another cup of coffee.....

                                           
                        I notice my latest thrift store finds ...a tin bread box, and a new toaster...
(I joked with my husband that I was blessed for buying him his long coveted white bread for finally finding my tin bread box I've wanted...:))

                 I gaze out the window to a world which is constantly changing, a world that at times leaves me feeling small.....

but I am grateful to the One who loves and is over all.

Happy Saturday!

Is This The Beginning?

                                        

Hello, sometimes blogging feels like a crazy dance between inspiration and exhaustion for me. When I'm inspired, I often don't have time to write,
 but when I have time to write, I'm not inspired. 
Back and forth I go,until that rare moment when I am in sync with my muse and we mingle momentarily.

The piece below came from sitting through a commencement ceremony for second daughter.This is the final awards/graduation from high school and into life..(aka work or further education etc.)

           
              I forgot my camera,:( thankful my friend had hers for some pics she'll give me.)
                                          so these are from google....
                                       
                                         
My eyes are riveted at the feet passing by. I am a couple chairs away from the aisle.The band is  playing triumphantly to signal the finish of
commencement. 
The finish of commencement. Can you finish a beginning?

The feet draw me. First I  watched their faces, but  soon I dropped my gaze down low to the floor. 
I like shoes, and there  is every kind of shoe here.
Outrageous high heels,classic heels,wonderful wedges, practical flats, flirty flip flops, shiny gentleman shoes, tired running shoes, cowboy boots, hipster boots, no rubber boots I guess:)
Personalities expressed in foot wear passing by in a blur to begin.
Ready to end the formalities and begin reality.

We all walk away from commencement.  We all have shoes to put on.
Shoes we thought would help us navigate  the lifelong lesson of learning.
Learning about ourselves, about others, and this great big but shrinking world.
We learn to look out, away from ourselves for happiness, for belonging. 
We experience love, acceptance, hurt and betrayal. 
We  out grow the shoes purchased for commencement and realise we have a long way to go before we arrive.

The room at commencement was filled with promise and potential.
Three hundred graduates ready to pursue their purpose and calling.

I am inspired sitting in the audience,  just me, but a small sphere of influence in my own small world, encouraged by youth, by passion and vision. 
Encouraged to dream, to live not recklessly, but faithfully.

To walk gracefully and full of grace, in spite of shoes that may not always be comfortable. 

                                   

    
    my daughter kicked off these heels and ran barefoot to our vehicle.
                 It's hard to chase dreams in heels I guess...:)

Sunday Afternoon Reiteration

                     

                         


I am sitting on my porch swing.Behind me I hear the soothing trickle of water from the fountain. I hauled it out of my tool shed this week and set it up. Not only is the ambiance of water pleasant, it also serves as a water bowl for our dog when necessary.
Behind me  I hear the cadence  of children's voices.The girls ate on the trampoline and the boys are at the patio table.The girls high and lilting, while the boys lower voices and raucous laughter sifting through, each decibel seems to say to me how quickly they grow and change from boys to young men.
The horses over by the barn are enjoying the breeze that is blowing through the gate. I watch the tail swish lazily as if it is keeping time to the languid moments.
I am here in the sunshine, my husband prefers the shade. we have always shared amicable differences and that's okay.

I am grateful for Sunday's that bring a break to regular routine, for sweet friends my children have to play with....for barbecues and watermelon and voices all around me, while I close my eyes, my heart sees the beauty....

I wrote this in my mind while I was sitting here yesterday, not wanting to move......
now it is Monday- time to move....full 
laundry hampers, and much else waits 

To Summarize and Commiserate With An Artist....

I can't say I consider myself an artist. After all artists are more flamboyant and free than I think of myself. I know I'm generalizing here and I do realize Artist is a very broad term- ...I do believe...We are all creative in some way...and everyone is an artist in their own life.LM~
One facet of art I am drawn to is writing, and that is a skill I would love to hone and own a little more freely... I love words, pondering words, hearing new words,and no dear hubby I do not make up words...:)
These two books entered my life recently and I've been delving into them intermittently..

Amy, had mentioned Rumors Of Water on her blog and recently I purchased it and have so far enjoyed it's lilting flow and subtle humor.

Letters To A Young Artist was one I picked up at a thrift store.An older,experienced artist,is writing letters to a younger artist struggling with many emotions, including turbulent self doubt,ego and fear.This book is brutally raw and honest,and while I can't 
argue that it is written from a Christian stand point, there are certain times she alludes to God, his plans and His ultimate creativity.

I hope you like this excerpt as I did;
Dear X,
You write, the odds are stacked against me.Let me be blunt.I think the odds are a drink of emotional poison.
No one invokes the odds who aren't trying to keep you from committing creativity.For one thing your odds of succeeding immediately increase if you try succeeding.You may think I'm being facile,but I think I'm simply responding to spiritual law; God helps those who help themselves."Ask, and you shall receive, even, Knock and it shall be opened to you."
When we believe the odds are stacked against us, we are choosing to believe that the odds are more powerful not only than our own gifts but also than God. If the tiny mustard seed can become a tree,if the acorn can become the oak, why can't our ideas flourish into mighty manifestations? It comes down to the question of self worth doesn't it?We tend to believe we must  deserve good fortune, but what proof do we have for that notion?
 Did the lilies of the field earn their place in the sun? No, it was God's nature to care for them,and it is likewise God's nature to care for us and our brainchildren.
When we see our work as an extension of God's work, and not as an act of ego, it is easier to believe that their may be a plan of goodness for it.
If we believe not I, but the Father doeth the works"than we really do not need to worry about the question of odds do we?(Julie Cameron)

Congrats, if you read all that:) I really liked the way that was put. Artists (everyone) have many inner struggles,and so much of our success is dependent on us placing our trust, in the One who created us ... and us doing His work for Him.

as I handed Jasmine her laundry pile I said"you could do a spring sock clean, if there's any with holes throw them out..."a little later I heard the sewing machine...this is what I found on the couch this morning...

there must of been a LOT of holey socks:)apparently they all have names too!
reminded me of this quote....

Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when you grow up.
                   ( Pablo Picasso)

now....
449-my lunch duty job,450- daughter's birthday and surprising her,451-tea kettles,452-the wonderful feeling after  exercising,453-cheese and crackers,454-a balanced life,455-glasses for my vision,456-vision,457-creative children,458-daughter taking bus home last week,459-food to make lunches even on days the cupboards seem empty,460-paying bills,461-credit card statements with a 0 balance,462-my camera,463-acceptance of things I can't change,464-snow is melting,465-Oliver,the cutest little boy at school and the way he came up to talk to me yesterday made my day:)466-coffee with a friend yesterday,467-a good nights sleep,468-happy daughter who was accepted to a mission she had applied to,469-the peace that I feel about it, (mostly)470-how God created us,uniquely!

Embracing The Old

The Imperfect Perfect

There is something comforting about things that are rather well worn and a bit tattered per say.

One of my children's favourite books was Old Hat, New Hat by Stan& Jan Bernstein.  
Mr. Bear is shopping for a new hat and after trying many hats on,he puts his old one back on his head and declares it "JUST RIGHT!"
What makes certain, old things so alluring?
Is it the story behind it, or the lack of expectation we may have for it?
After all, it's old!










In decorating it's called( shabby chic.)

 

 

Lovely way to describe a easy and simplistic style that is comfortable because it is lived in and the old is embraced.

 





Hosting guests can at times be reason to stress, especially if I feel somehow things need  to be perfect.
Over the years, I have learned some of the best times were had when company showed up without a lot of notice. This way everyone can relax, and I don't have time to stress about the details!

                 


        







          So next time you're feeling like things are less perfect than you've envisioned,
     Take heart ;and remember ,this could be a big step
     in the direction of ultimate perfection.

                          I love old gardens best- tired,old gardens
                               that rest in the sun.
                                        (H. Bellaman)





more gratitude here...29.waking in time to see sunrise,30. five  children around table eating warm cookies and milk after school,31.seeing girls share happiness,32.a father in the dentist office holding child while looking at a bible story book, 33. no cavities, 34.the words" I'm sorry."35.sunshine,36.a new day,37.prayer,38.encouraging friends,39.hydro,40.time spent outdoors,










 

Must I Be Melancholy?

It's true, I had fully intended to leave that moody door called melancholy firmly shut.
Besides I am no stranger to this and I have learned if I open it even a crack, it seeps into too many aspects of the present,spoiling the potential of new moments waiting to be released.

via pintrest

But then, even the sky had opened up in torrents of tears.

So a few of my own  did not seem out of place at all.

Why does the beginning of a new school year always remind me so harshly , the passage of time and years in my children? Incredulously I realize that my baby is the only one left at the small school that I have had a child attend since 1998. Really?

I am happy though, as no thing can remain intact forever. Why would I want it too?
I love seeing my children discover their  potential and do things I have never tried, and succeed and sometimes fail.
I love giving them wings; this is a parent's prerogative.

The tragedy lies in letting them fly away with a piece of my heart.





 

"the eldest ready to begin her second year in college"

First day of school jitters,concealed by beaming smiles. I just love that I get to be home and see them off with hugs and prayers.I am so blessed.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPQ9WvSZnF0&feature=related