Welcome October

It is definitely looking like fall.  The stores are filling up with decorations.  I am making a few of my own.

ATC

Here is another piece I created using the ATC format.  This time I used a scrap of wrapping tissue paper (dots) and the limb and raven are drawn in ink.

Wishing you a wonderful October.

Tea Stands for Tuesday 4/19/22

When Tuesday comes around it means it is time for a Tea Party at Elizabeth's blog.  She has an interesting post this morning so check it out. 

Edit:  OOPS, I found out I left the wrong link for my page but have corrected that.

In the Before Time (pre pandemic) I used to be faithful about going for a walk most days.  It is time I returned to that practice.  Slowly, not as far and not as often to begin with.

I like to walk to Peet's to get my coffee.  They offer you a free cup of coffee when you buy your beans.  I take my coffee across the street, sit on a bench and people watch for a bit.  A nice break before heading home.

I will leave you with some poetry this morning.

Talk about Walking

By Philip Booth 

Where am I going? I'm going
out, out for a walk. I don't
know where except outside.
Outside argument, out beyond
wallpapered walls, outside
wherever it is where nobody
ever imagines. Beyond where 
computers circumvent emotion,
where somebody shorted specs
for rivets for airframes on 
today's flights. I'm taking off
on my own two feet. I'm going
to clear my head, to watch 
mares'-tails instead of TV,
to listen to trees and silence,
to see if I can still breathe.
I'm going to be alone with 
myself, to feel how it feels
to embrace what my feet
tell my head, what wind says
in my good ear. I mean to let
myself be embraced, to let go
feeling so centripetally old.
Do I know where I'm going?
I don't. How long or far
I have no idea. No map. I 
said I was going to take
a walk. When I'll be back
I'm not going to say.

Second on the Second 2/2/22

All those 2's.  Something amazing must be in store.  Meanwhile over on Elizabeth's blog we are invited to share an older post for the second time.  I'm joining Second on the Second with this post.  It still holds true.

Thursday, August 22, 2019

The Art of Disappearing

I seem to have taken this poem to heart.  My blog has become kind of a place holder.  I'm around, just quiet.

Northern California Valley

The Art of Disappearing

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time. 

Naomi Shihab Nye

Welcome September

 

Happy August

 

Happy Monday

 

February First

 

Welcome February

Cicely Mary Barker art

The Snowdrop Fairy

Poem and art by Cicely Mary Barker

Deep sleeps the Winter,

Cold, wet, and grey;

Surely all the world is dead;

Spring is far away.

Wait! the world shall waken;

It is not dead, for lo,

The Fair Maids of February

Stand in the snow!

Tea Stands for Tuesday - 8/25/2020

Along with the pandemic, California is undergoing another season of wildfires.  We haven't been in the path of the fire but have received our share of smoke.  A caution regarding unhealthy air has been issued over the past several days.

internet art - I don't have the link

Drinking tea helps.  Coming here to visit with friends and see what everyone is doing helps. 

We have a couple of apple trees on our river property.  We picked a lot and have told a couple neighbors to help themselves.

I made applesauce and baked an apple pie.  You can see we also harvested some tomatoes too.  Makes me realize that fall is coming soon..

Now that you've heard from me, lets go to the Altered Book Lover blog.  I am getting a second cup of tea and settling down to visit.

Tea Stands for Tuesday 7/7/2020

Good morning.  It seems hard to believe we are in July already.  We are still pretty much staying home and avoiding contact with others.  It is nice I can still visit and have tea here.

*Tea Celebrations
Alexandra Stoddard*

Here is a quote from the book. "Tea for one requires of us a vital ingredient besides some hot water and tea leaves: caring. We have to treat ourselves with the same tender love and affection as we treat a spouse, a parent, a sibling, a friend, or a lover. Just as our thoughts have a profound effect on our actions and reactions, when we do something for ourselves alone, we send a signal to our soul that our life has value."

I'm off to visit Elizabeth and friends  Why don't you join me?

Here comes July

So far 2020 has been quite a year.

Tea Stands for Tuesday 4/7/2020

Good morning everyone, I hope this Tuesday finds you well.

I used one of my blossoming teas this morning.  I don't have very many of them and have been saving them for special occasions.  What occasion is more special that our weekly tea party hosted by Elizabeth?

I'm adding a little bit of humor for you.  I think we could all use a giggle about now.  Please take care of yourself, be well and find ways to enjoy your days.

EDIT:  I posted the humor earlier but wanted to share it with the Tea group as I think we all need a little lightness right now.

Welcome March

trees are blossoming

Dear March - Come in
by Emily Dickinson
Dear March - Come in - How glad I am - I hoped for you before - Put down your Hat - You must have walked - How out of Breath you are - Dear March, how are you, and the Rest - Did you leave Nature well - Oh March, Come right upstairs with me - I have so much to tell - I got your Letter, and the Birds - The Maples never knew that you were coming - I declare - how Red their Faces grew - But March, forgive me - And all those Hills you left for me to Hue - There was no Purple suitable - You took it all with you - Who knocks? That April - Lock the Door - I will not be pursued - He stayed away a Year to call When I am occupied - But trifles look so trivial As soon as you have come That blame is just as dear as Praise And Praise as mere as Blame -

Leap Year 2020

"I don’t mind leap years. I know why we need them. But 2020 doesn’t strike me so far as a year that deserves an extra day."

Dan Rather

The Art of Disappearing

I seem to have taken this poem to heart.  My blog has become kind of a place holder.  I'm around, just quiet.

The Art of Disappearing

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time. 

Naomi Shihab Nye

Thoughts on Friday - 5/17/19

pen and ink, scrap paper

‘If you have never been called a defiant, incorrigible, 

impossible woman... have faith... there is yet time’ 

Clarissa Pinkola Estes 

National Women's Day

To all my phenomenal women friends.

“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”
— Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou

This morning's poetry

pen and ink on cardstock

What I know

I could put into a pack

as if it were bread and cheese, and carry it

on one shoulder,

important and honorable, but so small!

While everything else continues, unexplained

and unexplainable. How wonderful it is

to follow a thought quietly

to its logical end.

I have done this a few times.

But mostly I just stand in the dark field,

in the middle of the world, breathing

in and out. Life so far doesn't have any other name

but breath and light, wind and rain.

If there's a temple, I haven't found it yet.

I simply go on drifting, in the heaven of the grass

and the weeds.

- Mary Oliver

Happy Halloween 2018

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate.

knitted dishcloths - vintage Halloween postcard

Catechism for a Witch’s Child

When they ask to see your gods

your book of prayers

show them lines

drawn delicately with veins

on the underside of a bird’s wing

tell them you believe

in giant sycamores mottled

and stark against a winter sky

and in nights so frozen

stars crack open spilling

streams of molten ice to earth

and tell them how you drink

a holy wine of honeysuckle

on a warm spring day

and of the softness

of your mother who never taught you

death was life’s reward

but who believed in the earth

and the sun

and a million, million light years

of being


- J.L.Stanley

first day of November - poem

Good Morning.  I know it isn't the first day of November but it is the first Monday of the month.  This is the season to settle in at home.  Knit a bit, read a little poetry, make some soup.

 "Monday"
by Cindy Gregg

On this first day of November

it is cold as a cave,
the sky the color
of neutral third parties.
I am cutting carrots
for the chicken soup.

Knife against carrot
again and again
sends a plop of pennies
into the pan.
These cents,
when held to the gray light,
hold no noble president,
only stills
of some kaleidoscope
caught being pensive
and beautiful,
in the eye of this beholder,
who did not expect
this moment of marvel
while making an early supper
for the hungry children. 

Thoughts on Friday - 8/18.17

I was recently looking through some of my old sketch books and came across this which I'm not sure I've posted before.  I've been in a semi-arid creative desert for some time.  

Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets. This is what she has to say about doing our creative work.

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time."

No doubt I need to get out the tools and give creativity some time.