I wanted to “pop” in and let you all know that (with the exception of Wordless Wednesday) I will be taking the next few weeks off. April is a tricky month for me. It marks the passing of my Step Father and the birthday of my Mother. It is a month that tends to knock me off of my feet and leave me emotionally drained. BUT…. when I return (which I am expecting to do on April 26th) there will be a new schedule and format. I have realized (or maybe I have always known…) that without a schedule or … Continue reading Please Stand By….

Our little “Stinky” is (almost) all grown up. It is a stage that suits him well; a cross between young body and old soul. I suspect he has always known, deep down, that he was meant for more than tree branches, milk crates and gravity. Always known, in the hollow of his bones, that he was conceived from a union between sky and stars; moon and darkness. Has felt the pull, from his Earth bound beginnings, to something bigger than himself. Has known he was meant to rule the heavens, soar just this side of angels, pierce the veil, and … Continue reading Growing Up, Branching Out, Moving On…..

“Stinky” the Owl has claimed his piece of the sky. His awkward flutters have turned into confident soaring. He flits around from tree to tree. Gliding from one side of the street to the other; observing the world from the highest of branches, hiding in plain sight. He blends into the shadows, is camouflaged by resurrection fern, is cloaked in Spanish Moss. But….he is not invisible. He is not off the radar. Although I have trouble finding him among the labyrinth of limbs and the maze of branches, my husband does not. He easily picks “our owl’s” voice out of … Continue reading Hiding in Plain Sight

The bugs seem to think it is summer. They buzz around our heads, nip at our heels; converge on bare skin, leaving welts on ankles and necks. Luckily we are dressed in layers. Winter, not ready to admit it has worn out its welcome, clings to the corners and smothers the sky. Spring however, knows this is her season. She will not be hurried along or delayed. She coaxes and cajoles the flowers into opening; writes her own invitation, celebrates her own arrival, settles in and makes herself at home. Continue reading Spring Has Sprung…?