Tuesday, April 8, 2014

A love story

The shining drop clung, magnetic, to the quirked tip of the waxy leaf, managing to convey, without words, blush or motion the entirety of the longing passion that a lover feels in the vacuum of absence. 

                           "Coffee or tea?" the smiling blue eyes asked.

                                                                                                        I am here.

Joyfully I returned to the water where we had lavished those red-tinged moments, but I found the

Friday, April 4, 2014

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

(from February 2014)

New Direction

I have struggled to find a consistent voice in this blogging medium.  Over the last five years I have written about gardening, crafting, parenting, cooking, organizing, faith, love, humor and probably more.  I have tried to follow in footsteps I admire, keep to a topic or make this a journal, but none of these things have stuck.  More than anything, I have written.

So, I have taken a terrifying step.  I am going to begin writing in earnest.  I am going to attempt to be a writer and, knowing very well that I may fail, ask for two things...honesty and grace.  This space is

Tuesday, March 18, 2014


Warm, soft, tender, whole. It is a mother's love wrapped in a stoneware embrace.  The gluten stretches like billowing linens on a wind-blown line full of the spacious final exhalations of tiny friendly microorganisms.  The homely crust is lumpy and brown, but pride lurks inside those wheaten-walls.  The pride of a mother's deep knowing of children fully fed, quietly nourished, and tenderly satisfied.
In a moment a steel grimace will partition this meal creating a serving where there once was a whole, but, now, while the fragrant heat slips into memory, this humble creation of flour and water stands as a symbol of home and family and faith.
One loaf made and broken again and again, giving each body the elements of life and each soul the vitalizing gasp of hope.  This two pound loaf represents to the disparate and time flung generations the hands that took up bread and gently changed the world.  Those hands, just beginning to show age, selected the humblest of foods to remind the world of the coming of a simple, gentle, mothering Divinity.  A new way and an enduring love both needing a metaphor: a metaphor of seed and growth and home and nourishment.  An alchemy of grain and water into sustenance and love and grace into hope.