NOTHING TO BLOG ABOUT...

Think, Think, Think is a phrase often uttered by Winnie The Pooh when he faces a puzzling problem. It is usually accompanied by him sitting down and much head-scratching.  I have been sitting down this morning with much head-scratching think, think, thinking and trying to come up with a blog post.  I have nothing to blog about.

I thought about sharing a bit of Easter at the Quill but that is over with and this was the sum total of my "decor" if you can call grabbing a few things from around the house at the last minute and foofing them up with candy actual decorating...

Nope, nothing to blog about here.

Then I thought about talking about what new things are unfurling at the farm...

But then I thought that spring is probably being overdone so, nope, nope nope, no blog post here.

I think, think, thinked some more and wondered if a walk down the winding road to the singing creek would be blog worthy...

Where I followed little heart shaped Wild Dogwood blossoms as they rode on babbling bubbles across slippery moss and sandstone...

 Sometimes sticking long enough to pose for a picture...

And how the story weaver in me took off writing in my head as I clicked away at each little nature heart on its journey, but that was all just folly, nope, nothing to blog about here either.

I could have told you about getting caught in a sudden shower of glistening rain drops...

How Handy Hubby and I had to make a run for it back the farm house from the curve where old Johnny Marse slid clear down to the bottom of the holler backwards in his battered pickup one winter when the ice was on.   How he was pretty sure he was "uh meetin' his maker" askin' forgiveness for a blue blaze of cussin' when he slid off the ravine, he said he just sat back and waited for the end while it was just trees that flashed before his eyes as they whizzed by and not his life.  

How when the wild ride that would rival Mr. Toad's was over he ended up stuck in his truck wedged between two trees til some bypassing Blue Tick Hound set up a holler and Johnny's daddy come to see what he had treed, begin surprised that it was his son Johnny.  But, you don't know where that scar in the earth is at that curve of the road and since you don't know Johnny either and can't here the tellin' of this tale in his distinct voice you won't find it as funny as it really is so, nothing to blog about here either.

I thought about my favorite photo I took over the weekend of a small bush growing wild on the roadside with its tiny little bells for flowers...

But that is all there is to tell, not much to blog about.

My last thought was of how Easter morning dawned bright and clear at the farm and how it hit me like a ton of bricks that Handy Hubby and I were the only ones about the place and it would remain steeped in silence on this holiday.  No family, no big meal, no dying or hunting of eggs, memories of the past weaving themselves through the quiet rooms, laughter here, a snippet of conversation there, love everywhere and most present of all was the big lump in my throat that I could not seem to swallow.

Not being able to go through with our holiday plan for the day we spent a quiet time of reflection on the banks of the Buffalo at Tyler Bend where so many happy memories of summers past resided...

Sheltered by the bluffs, soothed by the sound of the lazy rivers flow, serenaded by the lone cry of an eagle we watched two adults with brightly colored totes darting across the river bank collecting stones as if they were prized eggs being tossed into colorful baskets as they called to each other, "Look at this  one!  See what I found!", tourists.  Easter egg colored canoes slipped past on the mirror like surface with paddlers waving and calling out, "Happy Easter!  Happy Easter!"  And how I wondered if I could possibly drag the most gorgeous piece of weathered water washed wood back to the farm to use as a curtain rod but we were in my car and the piece of wood was probably as long as my car so I sighed and left it there.

Not much of a story there either, think, think, think, nope, nothing to blog about here today.  

Blog fodder is such a puzzling problem.
Think, think, think...