no boring chairs

when the light falls like this, you don't need anything more than a lovely designer chair. summer is fading fast, but we are soaking it up, when it's not soaking us with torrential rain showers. i'm back to work after a couple of weeks of vacation and it's a slow start. most everyone will be back next week and then things will pick back up. it's nice to have a bit of a lull. i hope you're getting one too.

goodbye dear friend

i've been home sick. after all the travel in recent weeks, i have ended up with a head cold, slight fever and general aches. i think it was my body's way of telling me i needed to take a moment to slow down. the weather was blustery and there were squalls of rain off and on all day. but just before 6:30 p.m., i was sitting at my desk and the sun came out in a full blaze of glory. it exposed all those spider webs that have accumulated on the window, but even so, it was warm, golden and welcome. i turned my face towards it and basked for a few minutes. a few hours later i learned that our dear old friend cyndy was finally released from the bonds of her cancer, at right about that time. and i can't help but think that the beautiful, welcome, golden light was her, finally coming over to see me here in the falling down farmhouse. and it didn't feel so much like goodbye as hello. thank you for the light cyndy, i am sure you have found it. it was a privilege to know you and be touched by your enthusiasm, your words, your thoughtfulness and your kindness. godspeed.

clinging to the light

so much unnecessary madness today, i am clinging to the last, golden rays of autumnal sunshine.

more tomorrow.

believe me, i have a story to tell...

glorious, healing autumn light

these glorious mornings of spectacular light are precisely what i need to fortify me for the day. breathing in the cool, crisp autumn air, walking through the dew-laden grass, past sparkling spider webs, surrounded by the golden, warm light is the very best start to the day. i'm so happy to have animals to feed so that i get out there and savor these moments every day. some mornings, it's like the golden light flows into my very veins.

some days, i'm more grateful than others for the fortification of the soul that these mornings provide. there are days when it seems like the little things (colleagues who don't return your good morning, loud phone conversations that make it impossible to concentrate, displays of lack of respect for people's depth of knowledge and passion for their work) chip away at your energy, draining it away. but then, i think back to the light and the play of the fog and the cool, crispness of the air, and breathe on through it...letting the memory of the light once again deliver the healing energy and return me to center.

happy weekend, one and all.

gorgeous summer days are upon us

i'd say summer is here about a month earlier than it was last year. although we've had some rainy days, largely, they are filled with sunshine. and that means meals eaten in the garden.

i don't know if our mild winter and actual summer for what looks like two years running are products of climate change, but if they are, it's definitely working in our favor.

most meals have included fresh asparagus, plucked from the garden. asparagus is such an exercise in patience, you have to wait several years before you can begin to eat it, especially when you plant it from seed. this is the first year we've been able to really pick it. and we've definitely been enjoying it. mostly lightly steamed with a bit of butter or shavings of fresh parmesan.

even the child has been inspired by the good weather (and i suspect by instagram). she made this stack of homemade blueberry pancakes all on her own when she got home from school the other day. she's also taken to making iced lattes. most importantly, of course, is that you must photograph it all before you enjoy it. i think instagram is a good influence on her.

long, golden evenings stretch out in the garden. the child is constantly in motion and never far from her trampoline for long. she's trying to perfect handstands before her grandmother gets here.

but she can also do all kinds of flips. this is why she's signed up for a gymnastics-focused boarding school for the ninth grade.

the elderflowers are already in bloom. i looked through my photo library and it's a good three weeks earlier than usual. that means we'll have fresh elderflower syrup to make drinks for our upcoming party.

there are flowers popping up all over the garden, it seems like in bigger abundance than ever before. those who lived here before us were into gardening and i'm grateful for the flowers they left behind (even if i'm not grateful to them for much else).

there's less than a month to go before the solstice and the light begins to turn away from us again, but with this much of its golden glory, i think i can bear the thought of that.

summer light: the view from sunday night

saturday evening drink & draw. a blissful sunny sunday in the garden. the zen activity that is mowing the lawn. lots of discussions of our upcoming party. it doesn't get much better than this. plus the light was spectacular. feeling all recharged and ready to see what the week ahead brings.

signs of spring and sunshine

at long last, some sunshine and signs of spring have begun to show themselves...let's hope it continues! we really could use some warm days so we could open up the house and air it out!

monday is a good day for a manifesto

i want light and laughter and love and moments of perfect clarity.
to float with the unbearable lightness of being.
to live in love and creativity and happiness and contentment.

to be full of ideas.
to share them.
to release them into the world
to become what they can become,
like children.

to be open.
not to judge.
to let people be who they are.
and realize it has nothing to do with me.
to release control.
to float free.
to not be tied down by negativity.
to be filled with boundless energy.
and abundance in every way.

to be kind to the planet.
to use its resources wisely.
consuming only my share.
and leaving it behind better than i found it.

to grow...inside, but also in the garden.
to change...inside, but also the world around me.
to embrace...myself and my faults, but also those around me.

to be wiser about who matters and who doesn't.
and when to say no.
and even more importantly, when to say yes.

to run headlong through this life, open and aware and alive.
basking in the unbearable lightness of being.

* with thanks to gillian, whose manifesto inspired and to kundera for the unbearable lightness of being, and also to me, for being open to change and a whole lot of other things.

practice run writing a small stone

i'm planning on participating in a january mindful writing project. i was alerted to it by a facebook friend. the way it's described sounds like an extension of the already daily mindful effort i make in taking a daily photograph. only instead of a photograph, it's a daily snippet of writing and the project initiators call these little bits of mindful writing small stones, and we know how i feel about stones. so anyway, i'm going to give it a whirl (despite being a little put off by the new ageyness of the site). but just because they're new agey doesn't mean i have to be, right? besides, i want to be more open in 2013 - open to other ways of thinking and looking at the world and open to new people, experiences and opportunities. (dang, that's sounding an awful lot like a new year's resolution.)

i thought i'd give it a little practice run here, based on a photo i took because i noticed the golden light and the shadows it cast.

small stone ~ golden light, the sweet scent of hyacinth, short winter days mean the light must be embraced when it comes. but the light also embraces - a bobbaloo, a special mushroom, a unicorn and a papier mache head - products of creativity from people i love, bathed in golden light.

* * *

some spectacular photography.

* * *

the r boards on pinterest: rainbows. raw. rest.

from where i sit

a simple oak tree in a bottle.

a bowl of beloved stones.

a candleholder gathered on a favorite beach.

a whirling dervish.

a whimsical robot.

a window in need of cleaning.

and golden light lasting only a fleeting moment.

a glorious light between the squalls.
during the squalls, i wonder if we shouldn't have built an ark.
my favorite sweaters are back in rotation.
as are the scarves.

i've started to knit a bit again.
it's like starting all over from the beginning.
i'm actually the same way with playing cards.
i have to relearn the game, despite 100s of games of whist and hearts played over the years.

pepper cat had four kittens last night. 

they're so tiny.

and i fear it's too late in the season.

but so far, so good.

she's attentive to them.

we're entering a cake contest on friday.

and the regional t.v. folks are coming out to film us making our cakes that afternoon.

so we need a new house by friday.

and it doesn't look good for that happening.

by the way,
with my earlier post about the elderly having sex,
i didn't mean to offend anyone.
or imply that older people shouldn't have sex.
or even that people in their 60s are elderly.
because that's not really true anymore today.

i'm GLAD that older people are having sex.
i just wish they wouldn't talk about it so much on the radio.
mostly because i think that what sex feels like can't really be described.
it's so personal.
and i guess i'm enough of a prude
to think it should stay that way.

so if you were going to make a cake

for a cake contest,

which one would it be?

we know sabin's will be something like this.

but i haven't yet decided.

rainy day ponderings

early mornings like a painting. the rest of the day, one wonders if one probably shouldn't have gotten to work on that ark. the wind yesterday was crazy, whipping leaves and loose branches from the trees - leaving the road strewn with debris and husband's half-finished sawmill a bit in disarray. today, there's just steady rain, but not so much wind. and we battened down the hatches of the sawmill, so it will be ok.

after a busy few weeks, things have slowed down a bit. i'm writing proposals and developing new ideas. and even writing a press release for my local photo walk that's a part of scott kelby's worldwide photo walk october 13! it's interesting, getting used to the rhythms.

i'm participating in stephanie levy's creative courage course. it just started yesterday and already it makes me feel both peaceful and purposeful. there's a link to it on the sidebar if you're interested, i think it's not too late to join in. i haven't been making anything lately and i can feel that's not a good thing. why is it that the creativity (actual physical creativity) is always the first thing to go when i get busy? i know that's bad for me and yet i let it happen.

the first exercise in the creative courage course asked us to write down what we'd like to create in the coming weeks and what we'd like to release. we should actually physically get rid of the piece of paper with the things we'd like to release...a sort of symbolic release of the words. i think these are powerful acts. and while i haven't done it yet (i'm still pondering and wondering if i can fit everything on one piece of paper), i will. i think i'll burn up that piece of paper when i'm done - what more cleansing way to release than fire? tho' i have an image in my head of a rain-spattered piece of paper as well, with the ink rinsing away. goodness knows we've got plenty of rain.

one of the things i want to release is negativity - yesterday, i ended up coming across several articles (i will admit to a certain fondness for the phrase rugbrød fascists) and blogs about expats living in denmark who were very unhappy and after reading them a bit too long, i found myself feeling negative and unhappy as well. and tho' some of what i read rings true, not all of it does. and even tho' i do occasionally despair that i will ever understand the danes, largely, i like it here and it definitely doesn't do me any good to read a bunch of arrogant, bilious ranting from someone who doesn't.

what's interesting is that one of the proposals i'm working on is for a program which helps alleviate some of the things described on that blog, tho' i do have my doubts whether danes will ever behave nicely in a queuing situation. and i have little hope for my little troglodyte buddy (who behaved even more abominably than ever last evening). i do think there's hope in other ways.

~  *  ~

do you have a method of physically getting rid of the negatives in your life?

do you burn or rip up or bury or scribble them out or release them on the wind?

oh what a beautiful day

when the morning looks like this, you know it's going to be a great day. autumn doesn't bother me this year. the air seems clearer, the colors brighter, the light more intense. when i go out into the cool, still morning, dew heavy on the grass, to let out the chickens, it's just glorious. every single morning. and i have, at least for that moment, an intense rush of happiness that i live where i live and have the life that i have. and any worries i might have seem trivial at that moment - they dissipate in the crisp morning air.

and the same thing happens again in the evening, when it's time to close the chickens back in. they go in on their own, so there's no herding them or chasing them. they're always on their perches and they give little disgruntled, but friendly clucks when i open the door and tell them good night and close the hatches. and again, i feel that same rush of happiness and contentment that i feel in the morning.

to have two of those moments a day, it's more than a lot of people have and i'm grateful.

oh what a beautiful morning!

dew-covered spiderwebs sparkling in the morning sunshine and golden fields of grain make it almost ok that there's a crisp hint of fall in the air.

lovely shining monday

we took a little family outing to the west coast today. as we drew nearer, the sun came out and since it was about 10°C (or 50°F), it was downright balmy, despite the strong winds blowing in off the north sea.

 and the light. oh, the light.

an afternoon of sea and sand and wind and golden light has completely realigned my very soul.

i am definitely ready for the new year now! bring it on!

a sparkling spider kind of a morning

you've got to love autumn. for the light. and the spiders. who are apparently out partying all night, come home late, possibly drunk. and then spin their webs. in a state of drunken confusion. i'd like to have caught them in the act, but it seemed they had all gone to bed to sleep off their hangovers.