Monday, September 29, 2008

Award- I Love Your Blog

Karen, founder of, sent me a very kind compliment by naming my blog as one that she loves to read. It's an important affirmation to hear positive feed back from readers. Especially now that we seem to be bombarded with despair rather than encouragement. Thank you, Karen, just for being you. For never fitting into the peg and coaching others to celebrate their own uniqueness.

Life is not what you see, but what you’ve projected.
It’s not what you’ve felt, but what you’ve decided.
It’s not what you’ve experienced, but how you’ve remembered it.
It’s not what you’ve forged, but what you’ve allowed.
It’s not who’s appeared, but who you’ve summoned.
And it’s not where you’ve been, but where you’re going.

And this should serve you well, beloved, until you find, what you already have.

Now, in accordance with the rules, I'm nominating some folks whose blogs I love. I could actually add a whole lot more!! I am so grateful to you, ladies, for the inspiration you give so freely!

Elizabeth -

Rules of being tapped for this award.....

1.The winner can put the logo on their blog

2. Link the person from whom you received your award

3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs

4. Link those blogs to yours

5. Leave a message on the blogs of the people you nominated.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Photo: From our Wisconsin garden

Seeds of hope, nourished, encouraged, shored up, protected, tended... have granted us bounty. She continues to hold on to the last withering vine, as if to send a clear message of determined strength.

We thank her by taking in her nutrients, and then, again throughout the long winter. Proof of her beauty pose as if commissioned as a still-life of colored stacks in the freezer, colorful rows of jars in the cellar, or in color-filled bags to the neighbors.

I understand her unwillingness to give up the attention of the warm sun and the quenched thirst the heavens offer.

My father, at 80, still at work with my family's bounty in Texas. He says his daughter may get out of the farm, but the farm never gets out of the daughter. I didn't believe him when I left that small town heading for college, the big city, to accomplish big things. He was/is so wise. I miss harvest time at my family farm.

I miss my family.

"In a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart."
Louise Bogan