pic of the day - and so it begins

And so it begins. Falling leaves are a lovely occurance. I could get lost watching them coast one by one to the ground. It fascinates me how they just go with the flow, heading one direction than another until finding a resting place, only to be blown away again. I wonder what it would be like to ride on a leaf as it journeys from the peaks of the trees to the grass down below. I can imagine the sound of the air blowing past me, the excitement and leap of the heart when the direction changes, and the whew of peace when we finally land. Favorite thing #429 is to sit in my chair in the front window of my living room, curled in a blanket, with a good cup of coffee watching the leaves float down like rain drops in slow motion. Ahhh, fall.

pic of the day - out of the rubble

All around me I see examples of strength and perseverance. I see evidence of overcoming great odds to attain greatness. I see beauty, creativity, and vitality. I do not need to look to great athletes or figures of leadership to see this display. I do not have to watch the news to bear witness to such models. I only need to look in my own back yard. Dramatic I know, but I believe it to be true and thus it has great meaning to me. Behind my garage is a brick pad where my garbage cans live. Beyond that are stacks of firewood for my chimnea and bundles of branches to be used for kindling. I confess, there are also a great many weeds and I fear even more spiders and creepy crawlies. Most of all, there is also a patch of the loviest pink begonias. I did not plant these begonias. I've never even bought begonias. This is my fourth summer calling this house my home and it is the fourth summer the little pink beauties have offered their greetings. Now correct me if I'm wrong as I am certainly no green thumb guru, but I do not believe begonias are even perenial flowers, but rather are annuals that only live through one blooming year. These little buddies have survived at least four with absolutely zero horticultural nurturing, no food, no water other than rain, no soil preparation. They've fought their way through brick and weeds, they've grown despite 75+ days over 90 degrees this summer, dodged the weedeater, and they've withstood hurricane Bertie. They are surrounded by weeds, bugs, sticks, and the occasional stinky trash can. Yet they are fragile little pieces of gorgeous. I would be stretching it a bit if I said they didn't have their battle scars, but don't we all? They, like me, were fearfully and wonderfully made and each step, each struggle, each drop of rain all adds to the journey. They may have no other purpose but to bring me great joy and inspiration and they do so with passion. May I have such strength and perseverance. May I shine with the beauty, creativity, and vitality with which I was created. May I live and serve my purpose with passion.

pic of the day - night light

Some days some things just strike me and scream "Take my picture!" Today was one of those days. My grandpa passed away last June. His mental and physical health had progressively declined in the months before and he had not been himself for several years before that. Somehow in the grieving of his decline, we accepted a new normal and established new habits. One of the things I will forever have etched in my mind was our daily farewell. He had a certain spot on the end of the couch that allowed him, if he leaned to the left far enough, to see around the corner sort of out the front door. He always had his feet propped up on the coffee table and I can see him sitting there in his jammies, robe, and house shoes as if he were sitting right in front of me. I would always hug and smooch him and tell him I loved him, but when I got to the front door, I would stop, turn around, wave, and blow him a kiss which he would invariably catch, send back to me, or allow to knock him in the heart. So sweet! When he passed and was burried, I had the hardest time leaving him there, in the cemetery. I felt like I was leaving him there all alone. The first thunderstorm broke my heart because it felt like he was out there in that pouring rain in the dark all by himself. Granted, I knew better, I was not delusional, but that is just how it felt and I hated it. I decided he needed a night light. Again, I knew better, but it made my heart feel better. So I bought a double set of these pretty cut glass solar lights...kind of like porch lights...and they brought me comfort. I didn't feel like he was so alone then. No much time passed before one either got stolen or broken, and unfortunately, but budget didn't allow for the highest of quality and the second one stopped working. So, I brought the light home and it hangs by my back porch where I pass by it every day. It still doesn't work and I am so not a gazing ball kind of girl, but it's nice. Not that I will ever forget, but it reminds me of him each time I see it. Today, it was full of sunshine and lit up like a diamond studded disco ball. What a gift. I still turn around when I get to my car after visiting the cemetery, wave, and blow him a kiss. There's no one there to catch it or send it back or smack in the heart, but he's with me. He just sends his love through a diamond studded disco ball.

pic of the day - another sun sets

I believe that I have already established that I dig symbolism in my life. Everything means something in my world and I try to find a message hidden in every little gift that crosses my path. Sunsets are no different. There is the literal meaning in that the sun goes down and the day is done. There is the figurative meaning in that the sun has set on the events of the day, good or bad. It is time to put them away, rest one's mind and heart, and wake with the sun to a new series of occurrences. It can be, at times, the end of a chapter or the start of a new one depending one's point of view. It can also serve as the last page turned and the book is closed. My interest is piqued by the fact that I constantly find myself chasing sunsets. I often do not realize how phenomenal a sunset is going to be until it is fast approaching. It is at those moments that I find myself scurrying to grab the camera, convince Bertie that going "bye bye" is a fun thing so she'll let me leash her up, jump in the car and head west trying to decide as I go just which road is going to take me to the prettiest view? Often I take a new road hoping beyond hope that this is the road that is going to offer that "Hallelujah Chorus" moment that takes my breath away all the while breaking my neck to see around the bend or over the hill to catch a glimpse of what's next. Sometimes I arrive in time to see something beautiful. Sometimes I'm too late and the peak of color has passed. Sometimes I think I'm late, enjoy what I can, and head for home only to realize when I look in my rear view mirror that I'm missing the best part of the show. I am learning on this little photography adventure and on this little journey called life. I've learned to watch the clouds a couple hours before sunset. I've learned to gauge the humidity. I've learned to watch the farmers to see if they are harvesting late as the dust that is stirred by a combine makes for a really pretty light catcher. In life, I've learned to pay closer attention to the details of events and people. Something or someone that may once have not meant much at all might really be something special when it's full potential is realized. I've learned not to react quite so much but rather take things into my own hands and be prepared. I leave the tripod in the car. I drive out west of town just in case. I hope the thrill of what's around the bend or over the hill never goes away. I am excited by life and I am eager to see what's next. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy what's right in front of me though. It's ok if my timing is a bit off. I may not catch a prize winning picture but I still have a prize winning memory. Sometimes the picture is not made for print, but instead is just a little gift to me. Thankfully, I truly believe with all my heart that while I may have left too early a missed some darn good color, I don't believe the best of life is behind me. It is still around the bend, waiting for me to grab hold. I don't know what kind of picture it will be. It might be a lake. It might be a barn. It might be a tree. It might be glorious colors or a soft hue. Whatever it is, I'm ready.

pic of the day - my thankful list

This whole blogging experience has been very reflective for me. There are good number of things about myself that I probably already knew if I had to admit it that have become quite evident along the journey. For example, I knew going into this that I would start out strong and committed to daily pictures and posts and that the streak would not be a long one. I knew I would hit a roadblock at some point and miss a day. One day becomes two then three. Before you know it, I'm lucky if I get one picture a week. This was knowledge to me from the get go, but it still stung a little when I strayed from my plan. This is now the third day in a row, but I am more aware of my limits and boundaries and simply celebrate every day I can offer a post. Another example can be evidenced by today's picture. I thrive on tradition and nostalgia. I love remembering and find that symbollism is a very meaningful conduit for me. Just this third season of 2010, I have come to realize how many yearly Fall rituals I offer up. For that matter, when I think big picture, it's not just Fall rituals, but daily rituals to some extent. Today's picture is of my yearly thankful list. Each year around this time, I tape a piece of paper to the fridge and begin to list the many things for which I am thankful. I keep a pen nearby because as notions strike, I add to the list. This list stays posted until after the first of the year so that all through the holidays I am reminded of all that fills my heart with joy. For some strange reason, something posessed me last night to leap above and beyond the normal sheet of yellow legal paper to create a scrapbooker's masterpiece thankful list. It was so fun to sit and cut and layout and design. It was almost theraputic. When all was said and done, I had my thankful list and a tremdously full and warm heart.

pic of the day - my toothy friend

Carving a jack-o-lantern is a bittersweet thing for me. On the one hand, it is one of the most fun things I look forward to during the fall. I pick out just the right pumpkin with just the right swirly stem. Not too fat, not too skinny, not too tall, not too short...one that is just right. I love to scoop out all that stringy goo until the inside is smooth as silk. I wish I could say I loved the pumkin seeds because it seems like a novel tradition and somehow eco-friendly to roast them. However, my grandpa convinced me at a tender age that if I ate seeds, I would sprout a whatever it is in my belly and have whatever they are coming out my ears. So, despite being 36 years old and knowing better, I continue to opt for a seed free diet. I think it would make him smile. Though my artistic talents lie more in capturing art via photograpy (I'm not saying I'm good necessarily, I'm just saying that's where I lean) rather than creating art with say a paintbrush or pencil, I love to sketch out my jack-o-lantern's face and commence carving. The fact that my jack-o-lanterns have all looked pretty much like this one for the last, oh, 8-10 years should be convincing proof that I need to stick to my day job. I must confess that my original intent of this one was to be a sassy, chicy, girl pumpkin with big overdone eyebrows and a pouty Angelina-esque smile. Somewhere along the way, something went drastically wrong. Oh well. It was fun nonetheless. Here is where the story turns bitter. From the time I was a very small child, mean bully teenagers have found great thrills and fun from throwing my inspired carved friend into the street, smashing him to smitherines. Please tell me where the fun is in that? I don't care that I am a grown woman. I dread that morning when I find the result of their "fun and games" and am saddened when it happens. I seriously conisdered leaving the dead squirrel hanging last year to ward off such meanies. So, as much fun as it is to create a new pal each fall, it's eaqually sad to see him in a zillion pieces on my street. For now, I'll focus on the fun and hope that he makes people smile as they drive by. I'll get warm fuzzies fromthe toothy greeting when I pull into the driveway and I'll enjoy the sweet for now

pic a day - amazed and blessed

It never ceases to amaze me (after something like 4,963,792 instances and reminders) how very blessed I am. Obviously this reference in not in regards to today's pic of the day and my outstanding photographic abilities, but rather to what those three roses symbolize in my life. It is beautiful to me that lives that started at random points across the south and the midwest could collide in such a way at just the right moment with just the right amount of nurturing so as to produce lifelong friendships and kinships. Who knew that I would go to college at a place where the son of my great grandfather's dear friend and his wife would become my second parents? Who knew that Tina would come to visit JBC during my freshman year, stay with a girl who lived in my suite and that we would one day be roomies? Who knew that I would overcome my fears and come to love Carrie, the girl that in my mind threatened to take my friend Jake away? Not only didn't I loose my friend, I gained another (plus their two darling girls - and Tucker & T). Who knew that all these worlds would collide and that Larry would fight to give Tina the second chance no one else was willing to give and that he and Myra would offer their home to both Jake and Carrie? Who knew that their bond would grow when I came home? Who knew that guy named Palmer would someday wind up counting the hours until Larry arrived? Who knew that we would all swell with pride and honor because we know and love this country's newest Leutinent? And who knows what story is yet to be told. Our God knew because he planned it...each and every bit of it...he planned it. It was no accident, but rather by design. And he knows the next chapter, and the next, and the one after that. I am so thankful and I can't wait to see what's on the next page. I love you my friends!

pic of the day - sweet pansies

It would not be true for me to say that pansies are my favorite flower, but they are near the top of the list, just below yellow roses, sunflowers, and hydrangeas. Pansies win my heart over year after year for a variety of reasons, the first being the multitude of colors in which they come. Red, gold, down-right yellow, dark purple, light purple, lavender (yes there is a difference between light purple and lavender), white...I've even seen some that are such a dark shade of redish purple that they appear black. They are incredibly resilient and hearty. If I forget to water them, which I am prone to do, they just pop right back into shape when I do finally remember. They seem to thrive on the cool nights of fall, which really shoots them up on the list...we share a favorite season. Most impressive is that they provide that final burst of color all the way up until winter has officially made itself known. I have even seen pansies shining through a dusting of snow. Not unlike any other flower really, they are happy. My dad had an Aunt Pansy when he was a kid. Pansy and Bob (I think that was his name...Pansy seemed to stick in my head more than him apparently)...I've heard stories of them all my life, but cannot really say I recall ever meeting them. They may well have been gone by the time I came about, I'm just not sure. Regardless, fun was always had at Pansy's house. With a happy name like Pansy, how could you not be fun? From the tales I've heard, she too was strong and resilient, vibrant and full of life. Even though I've never met her, I have her pictured in my mind and I think of her every time I see my pretty pansies smiling at me when I pull in my driveway. I hope that strength, resiliency and vibrancy trickled down the family tree to me.

pic(s) of the day - so much more than applebutter

I think we all agree that Fall is full of many wonderful events, experiences, traditions, scents, tastes, and opportunities. In fact, while most welcome each season, ok, maybe not winter, with a friendly hug, I do not recall quite the ovation that I have ever noticed such a welcome as Fall has received this year. That could be because there were something like 75 days this summer with temperatures over 90 around here. Maybe because we have not seem much more than a drop or two of rain since April. Whatever the reason, I believe everyone is glad to see our friend Fall. One of the traditions I look most forward to is a day spent making my Grandma's homemade applebutter recipe with my momma. We have so much fun together and have mastered the whole process down to a science...ok science is not fun, but we are good! The past two years, we have started our day early with a trip to the local Farmer's Market for our apples. Now in my opinion, that is a great way to start any day, but especially applebutter day. We have met this wonderful German woman named Gina and the last two years, we have bought every apple she had for sale. Both years, she has been blown away and cannot believe we want them all. We manage to draw quite a crowd when buying every apple on the stand, then the drooling starts when share our events of the day. The events of the day...we offer thanksgiving to Pampered Chef for inventing the "Apple Peeler Corer Slicer" let me tell you. It is no small task to prepare 6 bags of apples for cooking. The chopping, the cooking, the spices, the warm smells...what a wonderful day. This year my Aunt Carol joined in the fun and made the day that much better. We laughed as we drank coffee and pigged out on oatmeal raisin cookies while the apples cooked. It is not just the applebutter that makes the day worthwhile. It is the years of memories, it is knowing my Grandma is smiling down on us so proud for making her applebutter taste so good, it is remembering her hugs and her kitchen, it is time with my mom, it is making something special in my home, it is the joy in my dad's face when he has the first bite every year...it is so much more than applebutter...so much more than applebutter.