My Piano Man Captures a Sweet Family Moment

My in-laws’ garden grows all sorts of beauties. This summer, we were greeted by bright roses, fragrant basil, and a black-eyed Susan dressed in blushing autumnal yum.

The garden was the center of this year’s vacation. My Piano Man spent most of his time building a raised garden bed. Watching him work was fun and then some… *giggles*.

Yes, I helped. I needed a socially acceptable reason to have fun with a sledgehammer, an ax, a cutter mattock, a shovel…

Don’t believe that it was all work. There was county fair enjoyment, birthday celebration, sunset delight, relaxing at the beach…

…the Little Princess made herself into art and everything.

My favorite picture from the trip: while my Piano Man tries to capture a sweet family moment (he shared his intent), the Little Princess completely ignores him (she was busy screaming at crows), my in-laws don’t hear him (they were looking at a barge that was transporting a house), I show my maturity and attentiveness by sticking my tongue out. But, be honest, he is so handsome that you probably wouldn’t have noticed us anyway.

Our trip to Friday Harbor is always the perfect end to the summer. It gets us ready for the madness to come. October is nuts around here—fall shows for my Piano Man, pre-winter tests for me, and Nature doing her yearly striptease… one leaf at a time. Perfect.

 

High on Spring Blues

I wrote this poem a few years ago, on the first spring after my little brother flew out of his flesh and bones. I remember thinking that loss alters the way most of us relate to everything… even the changes of the season.   

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There’s birdsong on my page…
words I planted in midnight soil
are blooming memories of you.

Louder than death and time,
your soul sings to me of life:

“Dance your sobs
into undying laughter,”

I hear you chant,

“let the joy lift your heart
(high on Spring Blues)
and stitch our eternal tale
on the ventricular walls
of my forever home.”

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Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

Of Skulls, Wild Blessings, Pain and Ink

I got out of bed counting skulls. I always find healing in the act of counting blessings. If you know me a bit, you aren’t wondering about my use of the words skulls and blessings in the same paragraph—I love skulls, and recalling the tales of how they got to me is quite soothing.

Take the skull in the photo below, as an example. It’s a gift from my friend Lynne, mistress of the Insomniac’s Attic. She gave it to me during her last visit to New York City… in which we delighted in old books, got lost looking for an antique shop that insisted on hiding behind a delivery truck, and witnessed a rather irresponsible New Age seller tell a customer that onyx stones would give her telepathic powers.
Weeks later, the outrage I felt towards the seller’s statement (and the amusement my reaction brought to Lynne’s face) makes me laugh like a maniac. Laughter heals. The same is true of rituals and symbols. That’s the idea behind the grouping in the image: a frog from Stacy, a skull from Lynne, rosemary from Gina, and a mini-book from Emma, every piece sitting on a stone and a shell that holds its own tale. Even the black ribbon has a story, and telling myself all those tales (and laughing) pushes the aches away. Yes, it’s magic.

After saying goodbye to the frog, skull, rosemary and book, I started breakfast and made my bed. The quilt filled me with warm grins. It’s a handfasting present from my Mother-in-Law. As my not-so-perfect picture shows, the squares make an M or a W (for Magaly & William). And yes, the stitching forms lovely hearts. How cool is that, my Wicked Luvs? How could pain and exhaustion ever compete against the love put into such thought-filled gift?

Some gifts are unexpected treasures. The memories of when I first saw them always rush through me like a wave of ecstatically surprised endorphins. Yep, I’m referring to the bee kissing crabapple blossoms in the photo below. I was gifted this glimpse into Nature’s crafty magic, right after having spent a couple of hours searching for mushrooms. The search was a total fiasco… So, I was justifiably disappointed. Then I saw the bee… and the blooms… and I was delighted. Oh yes, I’m grinning like a lunatic, just thinking about it.

I’m writing this post while my heat pad does its magic on the pain that kicks my back. And “Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!” I’m smiling, as I think of gifts… of friends… of spring… of skulls… of wild magic… of every experience life has inked into my blood… and of how lucky I am to have the strength to craft them into poems and stories to share with you.

Do you count personal blessings? If so, do tell me of a wee blessing that brings all sorts of gigantic smiles to your face. Yummy grows yummier when spread. Really. 😉