Sitting at your window, looking out at the world, what solitary thoughts hold your attention?  At age 93 do you still delight in simple pleasures, those little discoveries made when I take my early morning walks?  Are there mysteries yet to unravel, interests to be explored?  Does the cardinal at the feeder, the sun skipping across jonquil and hosta, or a delicate raindrop cascading down the windowpane bring a smile to your face?

During these quiet times, does your mind wander to the life you have lived?  Do you wonder how many more holidays yet to be shared with your loved ones, how many more crisp spring mornings, how many more golden leaves tumbling down from the canopy above, how many more first gentle snowfalls?

Are you marking time in months instead of years, fearful of what is to come, afraid of how you will exit this life?  Was this journey what you had hoped for or do regrets creep into your thoughts, pangs of pathos overshadowing all else?

You have always seemed the strong, silent type, keeping thoughts buried, not eager to share.  These past several weeks I have seen a much frailer man, yes, but also one who is animated, a man I am thankful to have shared a few private words, a few childlike laughs.

Since I came into your family I have chuckled at the way you seemed to have singled me out, asking my thoughts about complex issues like the death penalty and gay marriage.  Even when my beliefs have run counter to your own, they have never elicited a negative reaction from you.  You openly welcomed me into this family, tolerating the “huggy” kind of gal that I am.  I like to think that you secretly enjoy this aspect of me.

I pray that in your solitary thoughts you still find the joy in nature’s wonders.  I have discovered your love for my chocolate chip cookies, so I will continue to bake them, just to see that beautiful smile light up your face.

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She is a teacher, friend, confidante, protector, nurturer, counselor, cook, chauffeur, maid, a beacon on a stormy sea, unconditional love, a rare gem.

She is wise, compassionate, loving, patient, passionate, generous, selfless, insightful, strong, beautiful, devoted, always there to wipe away the tears, the best hugger.

She is this and so much more.  She is a mother.

Growing up in the midwest, apple blossoms and lilac bushes have always reminded me of the approach of Mothers’ Day.  Both are in full bloom in Ohio and tomorrow we honor all mothers, those who brought us into this world, as well as those unselfishly fulfilling this most precious of roles.

Happy Mothers’ Day!

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shrouded reverence

sunlight kissing misty fronds

foggy country morn

Swirling fingers of fog caressing aging barns, dew clinging to new leaves and tightly held buds, drops seemingly suspended in mid-air – morning in the country after a soggy rain-filled day.

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As we look around, the list of projects is long and the dangers associated with them real for two who wouldn’t win any awards for being handy.  What we lack in finesse, we make up for with determination and Terry has discovered a new-found love for power tools.  Just give me a wheelbarrow, a spade, and an occasional pitchfork, and I can do some damage!

One of our initial projects, before tackling the weed-choked flower beds and prepping the back yard for a rather large garden (with dreams of fresh veggies dancing in our heads), was to install slow-rise day/night roller shades in our RV. For those who have ever dealt with the pleated day/night blinds and restringing them, God forbid, the smooth, clean lines of these roller shades were a joy I could barely contain.  The worst part of installation was the tight fit in getting the valances off to install these little beauties.  Surprisingly, there were no expletives shouted during this project, well, maybe one when I received a puncture wound to the hand by an errant screw.  And when the sun is shining (and I’m told it does in Ohio), these shades are worth every penny.

From here we moved to the outside to begin checking off the long list of projects needing to be done to get Terry’s parents’ yard into shape.  Prepping the garden bed was the first order of business, and when we began to feel the move from nomadic hikers to farmers.  We are experimenting with raised-row gardening this year after I stumbled upon Jim and Mary’s blog.  Fingers crossed that something grows as I don’t think I’ve convinced the folks yet that a rototiller is not needed in a garden.  The word ‘interesting’ keeps popping up in their vocabulary when they see yet something else that I have done with the garden.  I believe this translates to”are you nuts” or “this doesn’t have a prayer of working”!

The joy of recycling is very real to me and there is plenty of that to be done here, as I don’t believe Terry’s dad has ever thrown anything out, always feeling there may be a use for a stray board or piece of twine.  This is clear when you peer into his barn…scary.  The largest project on the list is cleaning out this barn and we have already reclaimed wood to make raised strawberry beds and a compost bin so we are slowly making a dent in this clutter.  We are finding the challenge of using what we have on hand here to be rather fun (yes, we are a bit odd!).

The purchase of two 275-gallon totes for watering the garden was a great find and recommended on the Old World Garden Farm site.  We have had enough rain to fill them and another 50-gallon drum and we’re considering building an ark next as we listen to the steady downpour of rain on our roof!

Cutting down a few overgrown, dead and dying trees was also on the list and a job best left for professionals.  One rather large silver maple, removed from the center of the circular drive, will hopefully allow for easier access into and out of our RV pad, once the driveway is enlarged.  Getting into our space initially was not pretty…ok, it was downright ugly!  The driveway will need to be enlarged if we are ever going to get our little home out of here.

The tree trimmers used their wood chipper once the trees were felled and we then used the resulting chips to add a nice finish to the flower beds and ground around the blackberry bushes…ahh, symbiosis at work!

As we look around at what is taking shape in the yard, it has not been without its dangers.  Typically there are several knocks to the head for Terry (don’t know why this is always the target).  A gash to the head for him, as I realized upon lifting a water tote off the truck that “hey, these are heavier than I thought”, many cuts and scrapes along the way, and two bruised knees for me.  Ok, in the interest of full disclosure, those were a result of me making a less than graceful entrance into the folks’ kitchen on a hardwood floor.  At least we have kept all our fingers and toes, not for lack of trying on my mother-in-law’s part, I muse, as I sit in a flower bed pulling weeds, with her wielding a hoe within inches of me. Mental note:  hide the sharp objects from two who feel the need to work right alongside the kids, a topic that has been discussed with them already, and will be brought up again many more times, we’re sure (sigh).

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Reblogged from Zeebra Designs & Destinations:

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The more educated our species becomes, the more we seem to distance ourselves from Mother Nature. We poke and prod her as we extract oil and gases from her bowels, and we grind away mountains in search of precious metals or coal or even rocks and boulders. We harvest her majestic timbers and desecrate vast acreages for crops and pastures.   Pesticides taint the air that we breathe, the food that we eat and trickle into the ecosystem.

Read more… 1,100 more words