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Sometimes we just need to sit, breathe and observe the world around us. Perhaps the present moment is the safest place to be these days. May your weekend be filled with spaciousness and peace. xo

shifting

Look at the gorgeous spring sunshine pouring into our living room this afternoon! What a treat, after cloudy, rainy, snow-showery-days-on-end. The maple sap is running in our neighborhood and pickups are trundling back and forth on the road, between taps and sugarhouses. Melting snow is dripping from the roof and rivulets are running in the driveway. The dirt road is getting soft and squishy, as “Mud Season” is upon us. We try to do errands down in town early in the morning, while the roads are still frozen from overnight dips in the temperature. The snow along the byways is dirty and crusty, but a fresh layer of 9” of snow is due overnight tomorrow. A flock of redwing blackbirds serenaded us yesterday as they gathered at our feeders. What a lovely sight! Batman is planting salad greens down in the hoop house and pea sprouts on the windowsill. The days lengthen and folks in town greet one another with a smile as they pass one another. We are all thawing. The season is shifting.

I’ve just finished reading A Still Life, by Josie George, recommended by artist Hannah Nunn. It was sometimes a difficult read, because George has not had an easy life. But George’s writing is filled with insights, grace and beauty. I found myself just sitting with her words over and over again, digesting them, and then jotting quotes in a notebook. I recommend it to you.

I also read Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt recently (I think reader Gail N, suggested it to me.) It was such a fun read! If you have read The Soul of an Octopus and enjoyed it, you may find this a delightful companion piece.

I’m now halfway through Search by Michelle Huneven. A novel about the workings of a ministerial search committee, it has caused me to laugh out loud many times! Huneven has included recipes for dishes shared at the committee potluck meals. Such fun!

And dearest readers, thank you for your thoughtful and kind comments on my last post. Sometimes I struggle here with how transparent to be and also wanting a degree of privacy. We have a sweet little community here on the internet, so I will share just a bit with you. Along with everything else going on in my life, I am indeed navigating a medical diagnosis. Tests, results, consultations, waiting…it’s all a mishmash. But I have insurance, I have doctors I trust (who have been reassuring), I have a fairly strong and resilient body for my age. I have learned over the years that it’s not good for me to put energy into the things that I cannot control, but instead, do what I can with the things that I can control. So that’s what I’m doing. And, gosh, I’m reminded that each morning that we wake up to another day is a blessing, pure and simple.

Sending you love and light and hope, friends, from the thawing, messy and refulgent Green Mountains of Vermont. xo

treading water

In February, Batman pruned the apple trees. He brought an armful of the branches into the house and put them in a vase by the front windows.

Good morning, dearest ones. It’s been awhile. You know how it seems that life’s challenges “cluster up” sometimes? Well, the last six weeks have just been a jumble of things knocking on my door one after another. And there really has not been a way to triage. So I’ve been in the thick of it. For days. For weeks.

In a few days, they bloomed and filled the living room with light and hope and cheer.

And this is where devotion has helped me out. I’ve started most days with meditation. Sometimes it’s a very short session, but it helps. And I’ve looked for beauty. In waiting rooms, along the highway, across the valley, walking on the beach, in a barn. I’ve found solace in very simple activities…sorting laundry, washing dishes, shoveling snow, checking pantry supplies.

Snuggling with Sidney Poitier, when he was not yet 24 hours old. I met him the night before, minutes after he slithered out of his mama, Beatrix.

I’ve leaned on friends. I’ve leaned on family. I’ve kept an eye out for signs of spring amidst huge and beautiful snowstorms.

Sunset last night, as the latest storm lifted.

This morning, when I was lonely for the sensation of a thread pulled through the eye of a needle, but did not have the energy to dig into a project, I mended a small hole in a down comforter. I felt myself settle, to breathe, to calm.

Sometimes when we need help the most, we can find it in the simplest places.

Which brings me to my Department of Hope. Here in Vermont, the first week in March brings old fashioned Town Meetings to many towns and villages. Friends and neighbors gather to discuss how best to meet the needs of their town. There’s lively, respectful discussion. Motions and budgets are passed or voted down. Folks are nominated for positions from the floor. (Watch out for being “voluntold”!) Often, there's a pot luck lunch held after the meeting adjourns. In person Town Meetings were sorely missed during COVID times.

Our public radio station covered a story that had Batman and I grinning from ear to ear. Democracy in action in a big way! You can listen to the story here, “Elementary School Kids Hold Their Own Mock Town Meeting in Woodbury.” This story may restore your faith in the democratic process.

As I navigate the challenging days still ahead, I take comfort in knowing that there is light at the end of the tunnel, Persephone will return, things will find an equilibrium again.

And I remain devoted to you, my dearest readers, because we are all on this journey of life together. Near or far, I keep thoughts of you close to my heart. xo

standing still

waiting…

Hello friends. I have a winter "bucket list" and yesterday I crossed something off the list. It was a magical experience! I stood outside, amidst our 16" of snow, with some of it still swirling in the air. There was a very light breeze and I was well bundled up. I stood near our bird feeders, with arm outstretched, my hand cupping a mound of birdseed. I stood still and breathed gently while the little birds fluttered and chattered around me. They flew so close that I felt the air stir around my head. I stood for a long time, shifting my weight whenever I felt my legs falling asleep. I sank deeper and deeper into the present moment. A nuthatch perched on the feeder and cocked its head, looking at my palm. Then, in an ethereal moment it flitted down, perched on my glove and took a seed from my palm. My eyes filled with tears and I felt such awe and grace in that moment. It's so good to be reminded that there is sanctuary all around us. That we can find hope and calm and peace in the natural world.

daydreaming and book reading

green harbor, marshfield, massachusetts.

tide coming in.

quilting lines?

this pebble is just the color of some cotton fabric in my stash, hand dyed with madder root.

We were back in Massachusetts last week and as we took a morning walk on the beach I found all sorts of inspiration along the sand. I look forward to stitching a meditative hand appliqué wall hanging this spring. There’s a lot going on right now, and a small portable hand project seems just the right thing to start.

Back when we were dreaming about our house renovation, I hoped to have a little library, with space for shelves, a comfy chair and a vintage reading lamp. Alas, a library did not find its way into our final plans, but ever the clever guy, Batman suggested several little libraries scattered around the house. Brilliant! At the top of the stairs you can find our religion/spirituality collection. The top shelf holds my most recent book group titles. In the upstairs guest room we have a shelf on the wall over the dresser, with books about Vermont, and a few best sellers. In the alcove off of our bedroom we stash the fiction, children’s books, travel and home decor books. Our room of requirement holds our cookbooks, a small bookcase in the living room is filled with our poetry books. A row of low bookcubes sit under the windows at the front of the house. There you can find homesteading books, field guides and gardening books. In my studio you’ll find a wall of art books, craft books and quilting/sewing/ mending books. Out in Batman’s workshop he has a stash of carpentry books and “how to” books. Someday, we will need to cull all these treasures, but for now it’s a pleasure to visit our mini libraries, mug of tea in hand. It would be such fun if you, dearest readers, could wander with me and we could do some book chatting together.

I have enjoyed two blog posts lately, where some of my favorite bloggers share books that are inspiring them right now. Take a peek at Anne Butera’s post, here, and Hannah Nunn’s lovely collection is here.

The book group I’m part of is in the midst of our annual voting. I’m looking forward to seeing what titles we end up with.

What’s inspiring you, dearest readers? What are you reading? What project are you itching to get going on? Drop a note in the comments if you are so moved.

PS I will write about Meyer lemons in my next post!

xo

defrosting...

amaryllis ready to bloom on a very chilly windowsill.

bird’s eye view, yesterday, with seven buds!

opening this morning.

We made it through the bitter spell, when arctic blasts battered our cozy “bit of earth”. Two days of -24 degrees Fahrenheit, with a wind chill factor to -40. Whew! Maybe you had a dose at your place too. We had made sure everything was in good order when we heard the forecast, and we did not leave the house for a few days, except to fill the bird feeders! How lucky we were…to have food, shelter, fuel and the option to stay home.

Jigsaw puzzling, reading, sewing, knitting, cooking, baking, a bit of screen time…we were hunkered in. We watched the sky change, as the sunlight drifted in between clouds and then left again. Stargazing is best on chilly winter nights, but we did not venture out.

The house has been filled with fragrance. Meyer lemon blooms in our upstairs bedroom, paper white narcissus in the living room. The blooms are also a welcome sight as the view outdoors was filled with swirling and drifting snow. The “draft dodger” has been pushed up to the threshold at the front door. We pulled the sliding door across the breezeway and latched it. Snug and cozy. Just like these goofballs…

pull that box right up to the radiator!

mirror images, big and little.

In today’s offering from my Department of Hope, (where I’ll be sharing gems to help you embrace light) I’m linking you to Krista Tippet and her newest episode of On Being. These wonderful interviews are back after a bit of a break. Batman and I listened to The Thrilling New Science of Awe, with Dacher Keltner (and his Greater Good Science Center at Berkeley.) Just WOW! I think it may deserve a second listen. I really hope you will love it.

I’m still playing with my food. Yesterday I pulled a bunch of bits and pieces out of the fridge and make a chopped slaw. I chiffonaded Napa cabbage and kale, grated carrots (from the root cellar), sliced scallions, chopped a bit of yellow pepper, added pea and radish sprouts and sunflower seeds. I made a dressing with a bit of mayo, lemon juice and a pinch of dill, salt and pepper. Mixed it all together and voila, a healthy, crunchy salad in the midst of a wicked cold snap. :-) What have you been cooking/baking/making?

I’ve got a new quilt to share with you soon. It’s sentimental. And another one is on the design wall, a collaboration between me, Linds and Gretta.

We just passed through Imbolc, the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox…can you feel the light returning to our late afternoons and early mornings?

Lots of plans for February, with devotion leading me in wonderful directions.

How about you, dearest readers? Do you have a project or intention secretly percolating in your heart? Are you ready to share it?

Birch bark and hope and light

We read in a recent edition of Seven Days about an artist who prints photos on birchbark. Wait. What?

Last Saturday we were up in Montpelier for the winter farmer’s market, a trip through the co-op, the farm and garden store and lunch at Sarducci’s. We ducked into the small gallery where the exhibit was up and were blown away by Moore’s ethereal images!

Many of the images were taken in the streets and alleys in downtown Montpelier.

Moore has a lovely website, filled with many fascinating photos. His background is really interesting, too, including an MDiv from Yale.

Which brings me to the Department of Hope, a new feature that I’m adding to some of my blog posts. On my “about” page on this website I’ve written “I’m working slowly and deliberately to create this virtual space where I’ll share inspiration and a sense of calm and sanctuary with you.”So, with intention, I’m sharing a link today…William Barber to direct new Center for Public Theology and Public Policy at Yale Divinity School. Because we need to talk about morality these days. Because there are people devoting themselves to hope and collaboration and action. Because we are light seekers. Because it matters that we recognize the power of kindred spirits.

With deep hope and devotion to all that is out there to celebrate, I remain your friend. xo

in the flow

We’ve enjoyed trading jigsaw puzzles with our neighbors down to road. We swap them back and forth and back again to their original owners. Recently, L&N have loaned us several Charlie Harper puzzles and we’ve had such fun putting together his clever, graphic images.

N recently celebrated a birthday and in a scramble to make her something, I rummaged through my fabric stash. I knew I had some bits of Charlie Harper fabric left over from another project. Fortified with a mug of tea, I found the fabric at the bottom of a pile in the cupboard. I found a fat quarter of a sympathetic plaid and a bit of neutral linen and set to work. A few hours later, I pushed the chair away from my sewing machine and realized I had been swept up into that lovely zone of creative flow. I LOVE to spend time there! The world falls away and my mind drops into the meditative hum of my beloved Bernina. (Read about her in this very old post)

When I took the pillow out into the yard to snap some pictures to share here, it was still snowing. A few snowflakes landed on the fabric and I snapped a quick shot and thought again of Snowflake Bentley, a beloved Vermonter of yesteryear. You can read some recent and exciting news about his work here.

How do you flow, dearest readers? Where do you find that time and space to surrender to your passion? Drop a note in the comments, below. I’m curious to know the many ways we can get lost in time.

xo