Spent

After blossom is gone, 

  delicate bones remain. 

Evergreen clematis blooms early. 

Empty pods reminding

me at a glance ~

 what once was 

 might be possible again. 

Fragile skeleton memory.

Mother Things

Here is a valuable piece sifted from Ruth Riechl's book, Not Becoming My Mother...and Other Things She Taught Me.  

She is the editor of 'Gourmet' cookbook.

The following excerpt from the book is a letter from a man who wrote to the author's mother after spending time with her one evening. It seems like he was older and wiser, nothing romantic. He saw so much potential in her that he couldn't help but write her a note and encourage her.

Go ahead into life, full-blooded, courageous and leap for the adventure. But you must do it soon---before the summer of your youth has cooled into caution. You are magnificently charming--and you come like a torrent. But you will be spent on the futility of little things. You are not a watercolor. you are carved out of life--and there can be no petty hesitancies about you. 

(This was passed on to me via my friend Emily. She reads cookbooks for fun. Marcella Hazan easily trumps Jamie Oliver and Julia Child both; when Emily has her apron on.) 

Gently Used

Quilts are pieced together with with forethought and love. The more they are used, the softer and more puckered they become. 

I'm sure if they had a say in it, they would choose to be cuddled until the colors blended and wore through. Tight hand stitching keeps it together even when the fabric gives way.

I love scrapbag antique quilts best. Re-purposed fabric from clothes. It seems like they whisper a better traveler's story. 

Someone said, 'we should be completely used up, poured out and worn to a nubbins when we die'. Or something like that. 

I concur. :)  

Spoonin'

These are called love spoons. I found them in Wales. It was impossible to pick only one. I was smitten with the handcrafted artistry.  

Traditionally, when a young man started courting a girl, he began the process of carving his first gift to her. Maybe he was admired for his craftsmanship and his choice of wife? Perhaps she was admired for being worth so much effort and symbolic care? 

Girls? We still want wooed. Pursued. Won. Courted with creative words and actions of love. 

Loverby still makes me feel like this, after 21 years. It doesn't look like a spoon ~ one bursting gift of creative inspiration to seal the getting part. 

It looks more like tender hearted loving kindness in action. Whenever it is now. He decides ~ day after grueling day to generously and continuously help me feel chosen, like Johnny Lingo's Eight Cow Wife. 

Some days it must be a most difficult task. Carving a spoon with only your fingernails would seem easier, I'm almost certain. 

Thanks for your steadfast, forebearing, never failing, stout heart, Loverby. 

iLike. iDo.

Finding Rest

This is an old, water damaged lithograph from the turn of the century. It hung with a companion piece in my grandma's house since forever ago. I keep it in our bedroom. If you'll notice, the STALLION has all his anatomy present and is using all that testosterone well. Noble beast. 

Tacked unceremoniously underneath is a simple quote from John Eldredge's Wild at Heart ~ 

There under the shadow of a man's strength, a woman finds rest. 

It reminds both of us what our best roles are. 

Craig's is to initiate and use his strength on my behalf. Mine is to simply respond. 

And when a woman is relaxed, rested, protected, fought for....you never know what else he might initiate that she'll want to respond to.  

All Tangled Up

Love is nice to hold on to.

 Clasp it tightly, without a choke hold. 

It can look messy. Tangled. Meshed. Interwoven. Impossible. 

It's a good way to climb. Nice support for each other. 

It makes a seriously tangled mess.

Beautiful love knots tied to an irrevocable trust. 

Succulent

Tulips are lovely. Delicate creatures. 

This one danced too long, finally succumbing to the wind. 

It blew her down. Apart. Fallen comrade. Bruised.

 Fragile. Short lived. 

She is busy making bulbs down below ground. 

She will bloom again, with her offspring; but it will take a year. 

These are succulents. 

This plant family is rugged. 

If a leaf is plucked off, an entire plant grows from it. 

It doesn't need much water.

 Roots will form without being buried properly.

 In fact it likes the cut places to dry out. Scabs are good. 

They are prolific and need split up regularly. 

Given away. Shared. 

They will live happily in harsh

places, cold winters, bad soil, rocky reaches. 

They squirm into unlikely nooks and crannies. 

Hot sun, rain, shade ~ it's all good. 

They don't need cosseted. 

Succulents stay juicy with life, storing their own moisture. 

They don't need prime living conditions, they adapt anywhere.  

They are an independent, forgiving plant. 

I like tulips, but would rather be succulent.