Friends, Then and Now.


Having and making friends as an adult is different. As a child, it seems to happen naturally, almost organically, wouldn’t you say?  As children we’re thrown together in heap, and left to sort ourselves out.  “You like gymnastics?”  “Me too!” Instant friends.

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I have been blessed with a few very good friends over the years, for that I am grateful.  But, I found myself sitting and wondering,  why was I was sitting alone on a beautiful saturday afternoon. I soon came to the conclusion, I only had myself to blame for that one.  I have chosen a life that requires me to be near home all if not most of the time, There are animals to care for, gardens to tend, stories to write and paintings to be painted.

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These are not things you can do anywhere. Granted, I could slip away from time to time. (I will work on that, maybe)

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I still feel the warmth of friendship, though I may not see them as often; lives change and family and responsibility lead us in different directions.  I suppose you could say we have grown apart. Grown separately, maybe. Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.

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As Jane Austin once said, “There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

My life is full, and I have no complaints, I enjoy my company.

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Time and commitment, now…this, this is truly my dilemma.

Be well,

Jess

 

The courage of the Life, Delicately Balanced.


It is harder for us to see the hidden pain, the physical disabilities, and ailments are easily noticed.

Personal courage is almost always ambiguous.

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Bravery and courage can be seen at every turn, if we are looking.

Courage may be moving on alone, to protect those left behind, and living with the pain of a decision made.

Bravery may be waking up every morning with thrashing reality of love lost.

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Courage is stepping away from abuse to persevere.

Bravery is the strength to walk away — not toward anything, no where to go, no one to go to, just away.

Courage is endurance, to live; in the fog of reality.

Bravery is stepping back in to bring love home.

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Courage is facing that demon head on.

Bravery is knowing he is just around the corner.

This kind of courage is rarely impulsive. Nor does it emerge from nowhere.

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Whether you have survived a trauma or not, the psyche is still a dark forest of scars and tender spots. Each relationship is intricacy piled upon intricacy, fertile ground for misunderstanding, separation, perseverance, reunion and joy.

My life was:  Stay focused on staying busy.

I survive as I always have…I survived by keeping my emotions in check – by maintaining my composure and tucking it all away. I managed to stay under the radar, skating through without anyone truly remembering I was here….oh, to stand out would have been unthinkable. Life in my world, was designed to stay busy, less time to dwell…You can’t control what you, are not responsible for…so you carry on, life carries on. I guess you just don’t pay attention. I think you’re too busy attempting to fade…until one day, you realize; I don’t need to hide, I don’t need to keep my head down. I have survived!

My husband and children are awesome; my life full of hope and love.

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A life clearly marked with moments of struggle and overcoming.

Courage, determination, pride…that’s what little girls are made of.

Joy!

Be well,

Jess

‘Merica


Some words can be carry their meaning across hundreds of years and thousands of tears. These are such words. We need to find our pride and resolve. Come together as one. Stop fighting each other. Build on our strength and God given resources, treat all peoples with equality without saying so. Love all not some. What constitutes an American? Not color nor race nor religion. Not the pedigree of his family nor the place of his birth. Not the coincidence of his citizenship. Not his social status nor his bank account. Not his trade nor his profession. An American is one who loves justice and believes in the dignity of man. An American is one who will fight for his freedom and that of his neighbor. An American is one who will sacrifice property, ease and security in order that he and his children may retain the rights of free men. An American is one in whose heart is engraved the immortal second sentence of the Declaration of Independence..

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“They tell us, sir, that weareweak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.”
― Patrick Henry

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A general dissolution of principles and manners will more surely overthrow the liberties of America than the whole force of the common enemy. While the people are virtuous they cannot be subdued; but when once they lose their virtue then will be the ready to surrender their liberties to the first internal or external invader” –

Samuel Adams

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“May our land be a land of liberty, the seat of virtue, the asylum of the oppressed a name an d a praise in the whole earth, until the last shock of time shall bury the empires of the whole world in one common undistinguished ruin!”

Joseph Warren

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“The American flag doesn’t give her glory on a peaceful, calm day. It’s when the winds pick up and become boisterous, do we see her strength. When she unfolds her hand, and shows her frayed fingers, where we see the stretch of red-blood lines of man that fought for this land. The purity of white stripes that strips our sins, and the stars of Abraham’s covenant, broad in a midnight blue sky. The rights our forefathers established. As it waves high in the currents of freedom, where the Torch of Liberty shines over the sea, does she give meaning to unity. When we strive as one nation, or when it drops half-mast, to a fallen soldier.” Anthony Liccione.

Enjoy America’s Day of Independence.

They warn us to not align ourselves with a patriot view on social media, so as not to bring the attention of evil doers. How can this be? Bravery in the face of adversary is what our country was built on; how can we cower now?

Brave is when you have to do something because you know it is right, but at the same time, you are afraid to do it. Do it anyway.

Best,

Jess

Wishin’


I have dreams, I have hopes, and I have aspirations.

Can I wait around for some fairy Godmother to to tap me with her wand?

Nah, probably not; I’ve got things to do, time is awastin’, and I’m not getting any younger.

Because I don’t speak of these things much, (until I am ready to share); it may appear to others that I just jump into things, willy-nilly. This could not be further from the truth, I research ad-nauseam. Make a plan, then research some more.  (Are you nauseous yet?) I am almost ready!  We’ve spoken to our local LDC and are set for our second meeting.

The Llamas are excited. Really they are.

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The goats delirious. Can’t you just see the excitement in their eyes?

Seriously? What?!

Seriously? What?!

No? Look deeper.

I thought we talked about this behavior.

I thought we talked about this behavior.

…and the dogs, well, the  dogs could give a hoot.

Don't worry, Finn; I've got your back.

Don’t worry, Finn; I’ve got your back.

There are no balls, bones, or games involved, so they just choose to ignore the happenings around here.

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They pretend they can’t see the yarn wrapped around their paws, in their water dish, and atop their heads. They lie on top of fabric scraps; try to take freshly stitched sweaters for their own, try to wear cowls, and make chew toys of thread spools. 

Try to temper the excitement Finn, really.

Try to temper the excitement Finn, really.

It is going to be lots of work, lots of fun!

Diesel,

Diesel, “I swear I never saw anything.”

And the best part; I get to do it all in our freshly(to be) built barn.

I know, I know, Lexi…you slept through it all. Right?

I know, I know, Lexi…you slept through it all. Right?

The dogs really do like that part. 

Do I look like I would cause any trouble?  Diesel did it.

Do I look like I would cause any trouble? Diesel did it.

Alright then, let’s get to work.

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Hello…

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Hey?!

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Uhmm, where are you all going? We’ve got work to do.

Ah, well.  There must be something in self-reliance.

“If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If you’re a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!” ― Shel Silverstein

Be well, Jess

Complication is an Understatement


It has been quite a summer, I don’t feel as though I am any further ahead than when I began.

I do suppose, our crazy, busy, complicated lives are very different, though much the same.

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We try to keep it simple; life is a lot.

A lot of dreams. A lot of work. A lot of family and friends. A lot of expectations and a lot responsibilities.

Inevitably there is a lot of juggling.

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The juggling game changes from time to time, it moves from juggling your own needs with the needs of sick family member; their needs take momentary precedence.

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The juggling changes when a loved one enters your life anew. You welcome the ball changes.

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Life is never enough.

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Never enough time.

It flies by, try as  you might to capture it, holding it close so that it doesn’t slip through your fingers…then it’s gone.

Years pass, you hardly notice.

Wish as you might, they are gone.

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Never enough energy. There is always one more task to be completed.

Just when you think you’ve reached capacity, another undertaking manifests. You find a new spark.

You do.

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Would it be conjecture to say you feel the same?

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Accomplishing more than you ever thought possible.

Daring to dream of that which should be unattainable.

Be well,

Jess

 

 

Those moments.


I have been crazy busy, trying to get the gardens back in shape after the long, cold winter, and two seasons had passed by with little to no attention.

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What a job.

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I sheared a friend’s llamas and the goats are sheared; of course today is 50*.  I’m certain they’re questioning my motives right about now.

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With a life so busy and full of to do lists, it’s easy to miss the pocket-sized moments of beauty and wonder, isn’t it?

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I need reminding, from time to time, to lift my head from my daily tasks ~ listen to the birds chirp their own particular warble…

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this gives nesting a

Notice that one cloud, as it moves past the sun, beams radiating warmth on your upturned face.

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reminds me of Nemo..

Let nature take hold of your soul, breathe her in, fill your heart.

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Be well,

Jess

 

 

Rocket Surgery


Do you ever say things, but they didn’t come out exactly as you had planned? One of my daughters, Jenn (actually both) did often as a child, she mixed 2 sayings into one – often. Rocket surgery was but one; still makes me chuckle.

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Usually used when I was helping with math homework. “It’s not rocket surgery, Momma”;. Immediately followed by, “When will Daddy be home”?

 

My other daughter, Juli; well,  if she didn’t know the words, she would just make up her own.  Once she officiated a marriage, she “married” my husband and I, at age 4. Complete with a gown she hand crafted, a very creative soul she is.

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It went something like this:

Howie, do you take Jessica to be your awfully bledded wife? As long as she lives.

Precious she was. (still is)

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When our youngest was born, she was certain we should watch her “extension cord” carefully. Always the caring sister.

Juli & Jenn

Juli & Jenn

As I was driving home from the dental hygiene clinic today (Jenn is a student hygienist), I was thinking how fast she has grown; and how funny she was as a child, though she was sure she wasn’t funny at all. She would try to memorize jokes, from the elephant joke book bought at the school book sale, in  an effort to be as funny as her older siblings.

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Juli was a natural princess actress and wasn’t about to lose her crown, she didn’t find Jenn amusing most days…on the other hand, Juli’s rendition of Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President ‘ was a hard act to follow.

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Aah, the memories they provided.

Be well,

Jess

 

 

It’s a Grey Day…


A grey day with a beautiful soft rain, a day to be productive ~ indoors. Reluctantly.

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Today’s rain is the perfect kind, tiny fine droplets, causing everything it touches to be canopied with gossamer mist.

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Earlier in the morning, I stood filling the coffee pot , gazing out at the garden. A chubby robin sat perched upon the grape arbor. He shook himself to be free of the moisture and he was surrounded by droplets larger than were falling from the sky. I wish I had my camera in hand.

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The peas are in the garden*; it’s a perfectly timed rain.

I’ll add more Chard and Spinach this afternoon, and the lettuces tomorrow, they like the cooler weather.

*If the thunder-storm in the early hours of the morning didn’t wash them away, that is.

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The dogs are sleeping in the kitchen, soaking in the silence.

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I better be moving on, I have dresses to be altered and pants to be hemmed.

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Be well, enjoy your day.

Jess

 

 

New Furry Babes and One of Cast Iron.


With the arrival of warm weather brings with it fluffy babes of gold.

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Buff Orpington chicks.  They are so sweet and docile, and after our experience with Mr. Nasty, ( one time he jumped up, thrust his feet forward – right into my husband’s…yup. Right there.)

So, I did a bit of research; I wanted a more docile friendly breed. I thinks these will do just fine.

We were also lucky enough to add this beautiful girl to our pasture.

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Darby.

She is a half sister to Our Phantom of the Opera; a  big boned, heavenly fine, lustrous fiber. Delicious. Would you just look at that face. ( Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

Last fall she had a haircut, a full body haircut. I can’t wait to see her fiber when it has grown out a bit more. (insert little girl squeal here).

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When I put her in the pasture with the other girls it was clear I’d need to move the Angora goats girls to another pasture; she had no clue what they were and she was not eager to be friends.

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So, they ate my dress. Well, not all of it, just a nibble; but it was an ancient cotton dress and tore easily. I was a little embarrassed to be walking about the pasture with my bottom wobbling in plain daylight. They didn’t care, they gave a look back, stuck out their tongues and walked away.

Do you think that could be a goats version of pants-ing someone? Let’s move on. No need to give them much attention for bad moves.

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We get a little giddy around here when new animals arrive, but I have to say I was over the moon with this arrival.  A vintage 1970’s era, cast iron, work horse of a tiller.

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Troy built. Please dry out this week, garden, please. I wanna till.

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Isn’t she lovely.

Be well,

Jess