today's Etsy find

I love this necklace by Lau from Hong Kong! Isn't it sweet? Visit her Etsy shop for this and other great jewelry pieces.

almost Easter.

They are hope.
Tiny feet, tiny hands, they are hope.
Naked littles, fuzzy, soft and gentle,
baby blue, baby pink, pink, pink.
To think of them, my heart sings and fills to burst,
tiny feet tiny hands naked babies.
Soft and gentle,
rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye.
where have you been tiny ones?

So, it is almost Easter and with it, Springtime! Doesn't that always bring about thoughts of Easter baskets filled with sweetly colored eggs, and little fuzzy spring chicks freshly born? Easter, truly the time of renewal and rebirth, will be especially significant for our family this year as we await the arrival of our own little spring "chicks". My nephew and niece are expecting their first born. And their second born! A boy. And a girl. And our family, well, we keep peering into that Easter basket waiting for the first cracks to appear in the eggs. Waiting. Patiently. Patiently. Patiently waiting. And as the clock tick-tocks away the minutes, the hours, the days until their birth, I am sucked backward in time to the birth of another Spring baby, one who brought this same excitement and joy to our family nest - the birth of the father of these babies-yet-born. My sister's son. My nephew; the first baby who stole my heart. And it is only now that I find the significance in something written about him years ago:

M. M is Easter. I don't know why. He was the first born child of us children. He is sacred. He is an honor. He is Easter chicks and eggs and all pastel colors in a basket. He is softness and honesty and all that is right with the world and yellow ducks and hope. He is hope. And chirping birds, and springtime around the corner. Freshness. Winter is over and thank the Lord! here comes springtime. M.

in the vineyard

This bracelet, "In the Vineyard", is my latest jewelry creation! I have to declare it one of the prettiest things I have ever made in my entire life!! What do you think?

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.~ Joseph Campbell

making meatloaf

Today, on this beautiful Spring day, I'm cleaning house in preparation for my mother and sister coming for dinner. I'm excited for them to come, and am hoping to start a new "Wednesday dinner" tradition. It would replace a tradition I sorely miss with my family - "Sunday dinner" - something we haven't done since way back when my grandmother was living. Of course, that wasn't actually "dinner", it was "lunch", but us southerners really don't know the difference. And on the subject of southerners, tonight will be a purely simple southern meal: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, cabbage, field peas, fried okra, and cornbread, of course. Let's hope I can pull it off without scorching anything!

Anyhow, as I was multitasking - going over tonight's menu in my head, dusting the furniture, while halfway listening to the doom and gloom on FOX News - it occurred to me that, you know, our country is going to be okay. Even though Nancy Pelosi stomped her feet long enough and loud enough, and the dastardly democrats got their way with the health care bill, we're going to be all right. Because the politicians, republicans and democrats alike, well...they are just making meatloaf.

You see, some people put bell pepper into their meatloaf; others detest bell pepper, so they leave it out. But it doesn't matter - bell pepper or no - in the end you've got meatloaf. So, while the democrats want to toss a big pile of handouts into the mix, and the republicans want to leave them out; doesn't matter, it's all just another government loaf. One the U.S. citizenry will have to choke down, regardless of taste. The important thing is that the chefs in D.C. are always changing (many in November, yes!). And they are always going to be making meatloaf of one kind or another. And they can take away the bell pepper, even throw in some carrots, but they can't take away the recipe that is our constitution.

Well, you know. You can tell yourself anything on a beautiful Spring day.

because of him

I was thinking of my brother-in-law this morning when I awoke; missing him. Realizing how the world changed over a year ago with his death. Sometimes thinking of him causes melancholy to settle into my heart for the day, but not today. Today the thoughts of him are accompanied by joyful delight. And thankfulness. Because at one time, I had him in my life. at one time.

He was the big brother I never had. But did have. Because I had him in my life. And I try to imagine had that not been so, but can't. Can't imagine it. Because I learned so much from him, lessons indelibly tatooed in my soul; life lessons that will carry me through.

He was the person who annoyed the hell out of you by always saying exactly what he thought. Always, and exactly. No matter what. But then, he made you wish to have the courage to be more forthright in your own life. In your own relationships. And I am. Because of him.

He was the person who lived life on his own terms. He spent his hours and days doing exactly what made him happy. He didn't dawdle with the unnecessary. He built his job, one that he loved, around his life; not vice versa, like so many of us. Because of him, I was given that same opportunity, one that I could not have imagined existed for me. But he created it.

His family was his priority. His love. Perhaps most importantly to me, he took care of my sister. He made her happy - most of the time. He was her best friend. She was his. Their relationship one to envy - their togetherness; their oneness. Somehow they had melded and the two was bigger than the one plus one. Now she is learning to be one again. Or, half of two. But because of him, she is becoming much bigger than a half.

And his sons, my nephews, they are the living embodiment of his spirit. He took such joy and pride in his three boys, and he taught them well. Because of him they know how to live rightly. What more could you want from a father?

He gave to others who were less fortunate, and he always gave without want for return. Without any need to be recognized for it. Just because he wanted to. Because he could. And it brought him joy. If I were to guess, I would say that other than his family, doing for and giving to others was one of the biggest joys of his life. That, and golf, and friends. He knew what was important. Because of him, I do too.

And these, these are the things he taught me just by living.

His death? I learned from that too. Learned that life is short. Too short. You gotta' live today. Not next week, or next month, but today. And while you're doing it, love the people around you. That is really all there is.

one snoozin' little doggie

birds

This is today's Etsy find, original watercolor by artist, Christine Lindstrom. I love her watercolors! You can find her work at mai Autumn at etsy.com. Flitter on over. And take your paypal card:)

Another of her watercolor birds:

tossing and turning...

After having a vanilla latte at 10:00 last night, unable to sleep, my thoughts got caught up on my many imperfections and I was especially drawn to the fact that I have never mastered anything in my life. I have gone down a lot of streets, both career-wise, and hobby-wise, trying this and trying that, but never stuck with any one thing long enough to declare myself a "master" of anything. On the other hand, the few things I have stuck with - marriage, parenting, friendships - I haven't truly mastered. I do believe that as a wife, a parent, a friend, I will always be learning and adapting in these ever-changing life relationships, and will never feel as though I have completely conquered them, nor do I want to. So, I suppose that is the way it is with anything, be it a job, a craft, or a relationship.

It's like this: On day one of my marriage I didn't know much about what it meant to be a wife. I had some ideas, of course, but looking back on it, you could say the ideas weren't exactly on target - actually, they were way off target. Way, way. And after getting over the disappointment of not being treated to a candlelight dinner every night and learning that yes, sex can become a chore, I had to learn how to wife. And I didn't, after 10 or 15 years into my marriage, decide I had mastered the wife thing and declare myself an expert wife. No, I am constantly learning and relearning how to be a wife. And I will continue this until the day I die. So it is with a job/craft - you don't learn it, become good at it, then sit back and declare yourself a master. You continue to learn and become adept; it is a process; it is continuous and infinite. Which leads me to the conclusion that to master anything, you must continue it your entire life. If that is the case, I will never master a career, will probably never master a hobby; but when I die I will have mastered wiving, parenting, and friendship - the only things that are important anyway.

So I can stop judging myself so harshly about starting things and never "finishing". Because, I do finish. I just think that it doesn't appear so to others. The key is that I do something (job, hobby) long enough to learn all I want to learn about it. Then I go on to the next thing that intriques me. My philosophy is "life's too short", and I don't want to die never having tried the things I want to try. So, ultimately, my concerns all lead back to relationships - not jobs, not crafts - but concern over "what others think". And I really should not care what others think. No, I'll just stay true to myself, thank you.

Smile, It's a New Year

What better way to start the new year than with a new blog, resolving to share more of my self this year. My word for the year is Smile - setting the tone for 2010 to have more fun, play a little, and stop taking life so seriously. I hope to continue the journey begun last year of simplifying my life , finding joy and beauty in the every day, and being mindful of it all. For you, a smile, and a Happy New Year!