THE LIFE OF RILEY: A WEEKEND AT THE FARM...

 The Life of Riley: An easy and pleasant life

We spent a glorious weekend at the farm, it was like living the life of Riley, an easy and pleasant life. 

We kicked off our shoes and lazed away an entire afternoon here...

Sheltered under an enormous pine tree we watched the wind sculpt pictures in fluffy white clouds, laughed over buzzards soaring overhead wondering if we were possibly dinner, talking quietly, enveloped in the soft scents of fresh cut grass and spring flowers, serenaded by birdsong...

Pine cones nestled and napped nearby...

The life of Riley:  an easy and pleasant life.

We walked barefoot in the old garden plot now a green carpet sprigged with the most delicate purple and blue pattern...

Where we found the very first wish of the season...

 Sprouting amid the golden coins cast about by the buttery sun...

We made the wish together, clacking foreheads, laughing like children, trying to see who could scatter the first wish on the wind.

The life of Riley:  an easy and pleasant life.

We inspected the grapevines just forming their new leaves...

Observed the gentle birthing of the soft Lambs Ear...

Meandering past the heady Purple Grape Hyacinth...

The life of Riley:  an easy and pleasant life.

Stepping onto a new carpet of Bluelets...

Near the aged stacked stone wall...

To better appreciate the infancy of the leaves and flowers on the Red Bud trees...

The life of Riley:  an easy and pleasant life.  A rare and beautiful moment in time.  Slipping away from our daily routine.  Letting sun and wind, color and texture, scent, sight, and sound, these magicians of spring, weave their soothing spell over our winter tired souls.

We could have seen any one of these wondrous things in our own backyard but they would not have been the same.  At home time marches on steadily keeping us in rank and file with everyday drills of "to do's" and the pressure of "must get to's" so that sometimes, really most times, these things go scarcely noticed.  We are held in strict formation of time and schedule to maximize effective use of our days.   

Daily life at the Quill is anything but the life of Riley, it is not always pleasant nor are all its days filled with ease.  It makes me appreciate the small snippets of time when I can break rank and come to parade rest, adopting a more relaxed and at ease position enjoying a different kind of attentiveness.  Instead of being focused on daily detail I can focus on the details of the making of a day, the birthing of a season, the unfurling of a leaf, a delicate blossom, a scudding cloud, the feel of sunshine and wind on bare skin, prickly ticklish grass under foot, catching whiffs of soft floral and grass cutting perfume, or hearing trills of birdsong.

These small simple pleasures are the essence of the life of Riley to me, taking the time to appreciate what is right before me.  They are within easy reach; making life pleasant with each changing season of new and comfortingly familiar discoveries.  They never cease to delight me and they never disappoint me.

If you could have a perfect life of Riley day, paint me a word picture in the comments, I'd love to share your vision.  

I hope you day is filled with ease and pleasantry.

BEAUTY AMONG BRIERS...

Gratitude: A feeling of thankfulness and appreciation
Gratitude is the first word that comes to mind when I think of each and every one of you. My heart has swelled with overflowing emotion at your kind words, thoughts, and prayers. I have read each comment over and over this past week and they have given me strength in the face of adversity. I have copied and pasted them, printing them out, and securing them in my gratitude journal to remind me that friendship is a blessed and sacred thing to be thankful for. Thank you so much for the outpouring of support and love.

I will be away for yet a little while longer as I maneuver through a week of doctor visits for my mother, she was in the hospital most of the week last week and is home now. It is a lot to process, these rapid changes in roles, as I become the parent and she more childlike in need of care. Fridays appointment should put a label on her condition, a mere formality really, something we dare not say aloud which will make it all the more real. Not nearly as horrifying as cancer but in some ways much worse, the losing of ones self, of ones memories, of ones mind.

We plod this familiar path having stumbled down it with my precious mother-in-law, at least we are not so blind as to what is ahead in the next bend of the road. As heavy as all this sounds there have been little bits of uplifting beauty scattered among the briers. I first took notice of it when I looked out the window towards the east woods. There among the briers of the bare blackberry vines was a rogue clump of miniature jonquils blooming in all their colorful glory against a backdrop of prickly bare vines and crunchy dry leaves...The skeletal tree frames are beginning to cover their nakedness with new frocks of green colorful costumes coming to life, only just testing out the barest hint on the tips of their bony fingers... I find these layers of life quite interesting, the pleasant and the unpleasant that seem to blend and dwell together so seamlessly. One or the other always moving to the forefront blurring the other in the background...
This season of spring that is teaming with new life and the breath of beauty has taken the sting out of the dry prickly brittleness of emotion...
Filling it with fresh hope. Although their heads are bowed the sunny lemon yellow faces of the jonquils radiate joy. Their strong sturdy stems support them. Their vibrant green leaves are spread and lifted, outreaching to the heavens in a stance of praise...Though they stand in circumstances less than favorable, among briers and dry brittle leaves...
They don't let what surrounds them dampen their spirit or hamper their ability to thrive in the place they have found themselves planted. Often, out of adversity comes strength and stamina that we do not know that we possess. And, if we care to look beyond, there is a fullness of beauty among the briers.

P.S. For anyone who might be coping with a family member who suffers from Alzheimer's, dementia, or memory loss later in life I highly recommend the reading resource The 36 Hour Day: A Family Guide to Caring for People with Alzheimer Disease, Other Dementia's, and Memory Loss Later in Life (4th Edition). This was an invaluable resource in understanding and coping with the care of a loved one with a memory affected disorder that I discovered while caring for my mother-in-law.

SPRING IN MY STEP...

"For, lo, the winter is passed, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of the birds is come..."

-Song of Solomon 2:11-12-

Today, there was a new spring in my step...

For the winter has indeed passed...

The rains of last week are over and gone, flowers are appearing on the earth...

The singing of the birds is come...

This morning I heard the call to arise and explore the world beyond my door. The first blush of spring is arriving here at the Quill and its sweet song puts a new spring in my step. I felt compelled to gather a few blossoms from the Hawthorne trees...

And who could resist jonquils like these?

What's this among the plants? A wee Butterfly Garden Fairy Cupcake Pick dance!

(To learn more about this and other Artist Class Garden Party offerings, please visit this link - be sure and use the discount code of: quillcottage to save $10.00 off the class fee!)

These first fruits of spring called out for an extra ordinary way to put them on display. Flea market frames...

And chubby little china booted legs...

Dance across the studio walls...

To the tune of Spring Song...

(FREE IMAGE)

(FREE IMAGE)

(FREE IMAGE)

A graceful and grown up sister perches on the old window pane...

While her twin practices her floating butterfly ballet amid sparkle and shine...

These happy accents of spring grace my creative space, bestowing fragrant beauty and blessings.

Praying grace, fragrant beauty, and blessings are yours today!

Blessings,

Miss Sandy

MISS SANDY AND THE BLUSTERY DAY, ANOTHER MISS SANDY MISADVENTURE...

The wind is due to "a gentle spring zephyr" rather than a particular holiday.

~Owl, Winnie The Pooh and the Blustery Day~

(A Very Blustery Day ~ Peter and Harrison Ellenshaw)

Yesterday was a very Poohish kind of day indeed. I observed the waving trees from my window but thought not much of it. A westerly wind was tickling their trunks as they shook in laughter. I noticed the gusts gathering thrust as it played its version of the big bad wolf against the side of our humble abode, huffing and puffing and trying to blow the house down.

Handy Hubby flew in the door with the hem of his jacket flapping out behind him like a kite tail in the wind. His cheeks were as pink as little Piglet declaring it to be "a ferocious kind of wind." He admonished me to be careful of the gusts and the occasional flying debris as I drove into town on some errands. I thought to myself, its just wind, no big deal.

I don't know why I bothered to fix my hair for as soon as I stepped out of the door it began to whip around on my head as the wind ran its fingers through it ruffling it up and out and until I had a do that resembled a porcupine. Not exactly the look I was going for.

Driving into town I was admiring the handy work of the wind. It tickled my fancy to see Sweet Gum balls scuttle across the ground in little clusters bouncing along like tiny tumble weeds. Layer upon layer of cream puff clouds were stacked upon a china blue plate sky. The leftover leaves of autumn gathered themselves up swirling in circles playing ring around the rosie. The bamboo grove swirled and swayed like a bunch of hippie chicks flipping their green tinted hair and upraised arms this way and that to the wild beat of the wind. And I wondered if Owl was right, could this be just "a gentle spring zephyr" or was it a particular holiday being celebrated?

(Winnie the Pooh Soccer by Peter Ellenshaw)

I was surprised by its unexpected rudeness as it literally shoved me along the parking lot giving one final heave as I entered the store almost making me stumble. As the doors swallowed me up I heard a great roar behind me as the blast tried to gain entrance too. How rude!

Upon exiting the store my scarf necked sweater fluttered out behind me in cape style fashion making me feel like a superhero flying into the wind. I saw two little girls no older than three running and leaping into the wind with arms spread wide as if embracing the invisible. Their giggles were carried away on the current, hair streaming out in golden stands, and I wanted to run and leap and giggle with them.

Pulling my attention back to the task at hand I opened my car trunk to deposit my packages just as the sky darkened. Buggies being pushed by invisible patrons began to roll across the parking lot and a certain menace filled the air. I should have heeded Handy Hubby's earlier warning about being careful but I was still daydreaming of flying on the wind with two little golden haired girls in matching striped shirts when it happened.

A sudden whisk of perfectly timed wind slammed into my open car trunk just as I was leaning in to deposit a package. The lid shot down and crashed into my head. Lets just say I was suddenly seeing stars and it was still day time. I was too stunned to move for fear of passing out in the parking lot so I stood stock still and thought how the wind was no longer my friend!

(Winnie the Pooh Spring in the 100 Acre Wood by Peter and Harrison Ellenshaw)

Did you know that in Greek Mythology that Zephyr or Zephyrus, Greek for "the west wind", is known as the gentlest wind and the messenger of spring? Well, he did not have to hit me over the head with the message! After all, I did see his calling card right in my own front yard as tiny sprigs of Iris and Daffodils are poking their sleepy heads from their warm winter beds as they untuck themselves from their blankets of soil where they have been resting all winter. A tad too early in my opinion.

I crawled into my car after chucking the rest of bags into the boot for fear of being stuck again and called Handy Hubby. He asked if I though I needed to see a doctor in case of a concussion but I said I thought I was OK and that my goose egg and I were going home. I was somewhat reluctant to unload the car when I arrived but the thought of soured milk stinking up my car spurred me into action. It would have been funny to watch me dare to reach towards the trunk extending my hand and yanking it back several times before grabbing a bag.

I made it safely into the welcoming arms of Quill Cottage to sit on the sofa with a bag of frozen peas on my birds nest of a hairdo complete with goose egg as the westerly wind laughingly lapped at my windows. I once again admired its handy work as invisible wind babies were being pushed on the swings of the swing set by attentive breezes. I liked seeing the shifting shadow puppet shapes cast on the earth through the sun dappled trees. And, I like that a whiff of spring was in the air.

I forgave the wind for its uproarious behavior knowing that it was with anticipation that a particular holiday worth a riotous celebration was on the horizon ~ Spring!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

Spring, Spring, Spring.....

"Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn."

~Quote by Lewis Gizzard in Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You~

I had just finished smoothing the covers in place when my task was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Puzzled at who would be calling at such and early hour I went to answer the knock. Even more puzzling was the fact that no one was there. "Strange." I thought to myself as I stood peering through the full view window. I opened the door and I felt her presence immediately.

She brushed past on a little hush of a wind bringing with her the heady scent of daffodils and the lyrical sound of bird song. Sweet Spring had come to pay a call. Her invitation to walk with her in God's Garden was more than I could resist so I left the task at hand and joined her. We slipped into the early morning light, she and I, not saying a word. We simply listened, looked, and lapped up the color, fragrance, and sound. We tread softly across the green carpet sprigged with the daintiest and most petite of wildflowers, Bluets, in varying colors from the almost white to a vivid blue~purple hue.

I smiled as we brushed past a purple patch of Henbit, often mistaken for Dead Nettle, a common weed to some but a strong tie to childhood memories for me. Henbit grew in profusion under the clothes line in the back yard of my childhood home. I spent many pleasant hours under a billowing sheet tent with rocks anchoring the corners against the pull of the summer breeze. I lay on a tattered blanket day dreaming or reading. Often I would lay flat on my stomach, chin propped on crossed arms, eye level with Henbit peeking over the edge the blanket. I studied every part of this tiny treasure. I always imagined that the tiny two lipped bloom had much to say but could not speak, for in spite of having two lips, no tiny tongue was visible in its open mouth.

Much to my delight we passed an enchanted Dead Nettle forest! Just look, can't you imagine wee-folk or a fairy or two living under there? I used to hope to see one when I was little. These weeds look like wonderful magical trees to me and I delighted in their details. Now when I look I no longer hope to see something mythical but instead see the hand of the Creator which is much more magical, knowing that He spoke all these delights into being.

We strolled along in companionable silence admiring the Spring Beauties, a wild flower also known as Peppermint Flowers due to their white petals being deeply veined with a bright pink stripe that makes them resemble the stripe of a candy. These delicate beauties only remain open in bright light and close up at dusk. Countless times in my childhood I would race out in the early morning to watch them pop open and lift their faces to the sun or sit at dusk and watch them close the day by folding their petals and bowing their heads. I always thought these tiny plants have much to teach us. At each days dawning to position ourselves openly before the Son, soaking up all His radiance in a posture of praise, closing out each day with thankfulness and gratitude, bowing in prayer and resting in Him.

Sweet Spring had a delightful surprise in store for me just around the corner. We stepped into an outdoor theater where a grand performance was about to begin. The flood lights ringing the outdoor stage were none other than the golden faces of the dandelion. The other day while running an errand with Handy Hubby we passed a yard positively full of dandelions that had gone to seed. In the late afternoon sun each fuzzy white orb glowed. We were sitting at a traffic light and I gasped, "LOOK!" Handy Hubby startled and thought there was an impending accident when he saw me pointing. Puzzled he responded, "What?" Nose pressed to the window in awe I exclaimed, "A whole yard full of wishes!" He said, "You mean a whole yard full of weeds." "No. Some people see weeds but I see wishes!"
The outdoor theater was bedecked with brand new foliage. A leafy green tree provided the perfect backdrop to showcase the performers. I could see them just off stage all dressed in white with hints of orange on the male performers costumes. Delicate pink blooms bordered the left and right edges of the stage completing the frame.

Tiny red velvet oak leaves were draped on the canopy above and golden tassels swayed to orchestra of birdsong. It was a most grand theater indeed!
I heard the musicians tuning up before we ever entered the theater. From the percussion section I heard the distinct rat~a~tat tat of the Downy Woodpecker. Rehearsals were quite chaotic with the Cardinal and the Blue Jay retreating into the bramble that served as dressing rooms for a few moments of quite before the performance began. The Eastern Bluebird had no problem warming up on a branch in the field a bit removed from the activity. The Mourning Dove and Junco followed suit only they chose to perch on rocks along the ridge line. Somehow all the taps, twitters, and tweets came together to create a heavenly symphony. A slight hush sounded as we settled ourselves on the wooden steps of the deck that served as seating and waited in anticipation for what was to come next.

A troupe of Falcate Orangetips entered center stage and danced a delightful butterfly ballet. Their gossamer wings moving with grace in tandem with their partner. In the air en l' an assembl'e, alle'gro movements ensued, depicting a grand chass'e as each dancer would ballon from blossom to blossom, flicking de cot'e, only to croise'e paths and begin the danse again. Translation: In the air, joined together, brisk and lively movements ensured, depicting a grand chase as each dancer would lightly bounce from blossom to blossom, flicking sideways, only to cross paths and begin the dance again.

I clapped in delight with a standing ovation at witnessing such a delicate and beautiful performance. After the royal ballet was complete refreshments were served. Dancers mixed with the audience of Dusky Winged Skippers, sipping sweet nectar and resting on peppermint striped stools. The percussion section headed on up to the buffet and dug right in!
Shy wild violets reposed against the rocks and gathered in tiny clusters discussing the dance. They were clothed in velvet gowns of purple hues ranging from pastel shades to deep rich jewel tones. Their sweet faces were bent in modesty. These dark beauties often hide themselves away in long grasses and their blooms are very fleeting. Their fragrance and color unveil their hiding places and I delight in spotting the first one every spring.

As a final gift Sweet Spring lead me around another corner and presented me with a glorious sight, one that reminds me of my grandmother. Perfect pink blossoms filled out the tiny shoots of the clipping she gave me last year. This bush grows wild near the rock fence surrounding the home where she used to dwell here on earth. I felt like I was given a little gift from heaven to see those tiny sprigs not only survive but thrive.
With a happy sigh Sweet Spring and I parted ways for I needed to return indoors to finish my chores and she needed to be about her business of birthing a new season. Knowing I could enjoy her company for many days to come I thanked her for the pleasure of her presence. She nudged me with her warm wind and sent my gaze upward, reminding me who it was I really needed to be thanking that my heart can sing, Spring, Spring, Spring!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

P.S. Darling Daughter and I were laughing over the fact that we take the same photos of the same things every spring! We cannot help ourselves we have not seem them in ever so long. Next week I will show you what happened when my camera took a walk without me and she was the shutterbug.