Wednesday, October 8, 2014
And Mary was there, too, for those wanting instruction in crocheting. This little 8 yr. old girl was learning to knit and crochet...and having a ball.
And you can't beat having vendors on the premises!! LOVED looking at and purchasing some new yarns! I couldn't resist. Not many could. I found some baby alpaca and also a wool/silk blend. Both are soooo soft. I think the wool/silk blend is going on the needles next.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Why do I wait for the last few days of warmth to winterize
The jet ski, the lawnmower,
The ATV's, the wardrobe. Especially the wardrobe.
I've nearly waited too long...and now it seems like a rushed job.
In the last hours of summer warmth, the trailer bed got a another
coat of linseed oil,
As did the patio swing. I hauled in wood. I coiled up hoses.
Oh Summer, do you have to move south so soon?
The recent rains are washing away all your footprints.
I suppose the Australians are anxiously awaiting your arrival.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Monday, September 29, 2014
The Chuckers have returned. I saw them descend on my property last fall for the first time. And they're baaaack. What are they eating?? Some kind of seeds? I can't imaging what would draw them to this sagebrush bench, away from irrigated fields. But they are here, daily, for about a week.
|Over the hill they go.|
Saturday, September 27, 2014
I can't help myself. When I see yellow woods, I immediately think of Robert Frost's poem, "The Road Not Taken." Frost used themes in nature to share great insights into human behavior, choices, and rituals. I supposed I liked this piece from the time I was taught it, because I liked the idea that we sometimes stick to tough or unpopular or goal-oriented decisions, despite the uncertainty and entanglements that seem to await and challenge our progress. But when we've taken "the road less traveled," it often makes "all the difference." These paths, these experiences, were the very ones that helped expose latent talents... or untapped courage... or friendships you never expected.
It appears Frost wrote this poem in 1920... getting very close to 100 years ago. Just goes to show... Truth has no age.
|Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.|
|1. The Road Not Taken|
|TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,|
|And sorry I could not travel both|
|And be one traveler, long I stood|
|And looked down one as far as I could|
|To where it bent in the undergrowth;||5|
|Then took the other, as just as fair,|
|And having perhaps the better claim,|
|Because it was grassy and wanted wear;|
|Though as for that the passing there|
|Had worn them really about the same,||10|
|And both that morning equally lay|
|In leaves no step had trodden black.|
|Oh, I kept the first for another day!|
|Yet knowing how way leads on to way,|
|I doubted if I should ever come back.||15|
|I shall be telling this with a sigh|
|Somewhere ages and ages hence:|
|Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—|
|I took the one less traveled by,|
|And that has made all the difference.||20|
Friday, September 26, 2014
Thanks, Lyle, for the leaf-peeping tip. I had to go to Lander one day this week, and my plan was to extend the day into some picturing-taking opportunities. I knew that would pretty much "shoot" the day, but what what the heck. Everything else could wait.
When Autumn waltzes through, you've got to be ready to dance. Or, you'll be sitting, like a wallflower, either silently reprimanding yourself for not having more fortitude to get up and involved, or feeling sorry for your self-inflicted predicament. I prodded myself, "Come on girl, let's shake a leg."
After leaving Lander, I started climbing the pass, and sure enough,... there she was. Her costumes were lit-up by the sun's rays and scattered here and there, as if she'd left them drop behind her, enticing you to follow.
I don't know how she did it, but every garment appeared to be beaming in brilliant hues from its own internal light source.
The occasional breezes sent her scarves and skirts spinning.
I was riveted by her showy costuming... and delighted to watch her nature-choreographed movement.
She's a spectacular performer, if you can catch the show.
I drove down Limestone Mt. Road... stopping repeatedly to capture caches of color. It was glorious.