I want to share a piece of news with you. I will be writing more and reflecting upon my life changes. In July my husband of almost 28 years and lover and friend of 30 years,( a month shy) passed away from a stroke. He had been sick close to two years with ulcerative colitis and had lost a lot of weight.
Now I’m experiencing grief in all its forms. I can’t express how shocked I still am and the need to focus on distractions to keep afloat. So my posts will look different than in previous years but I hope you’ll still see the real me in them.
Icy fingers of chilled air caress the features of my face. Venturing through drifts of glistening mounds of snow, I spy animal tracks. One is of a coyote and the other a deer. The defined tracks wind and lead the way into the woods. I think of the deer and his/ her possible frantic getaway from the predator. An intense sadness sweeps through me, yet I remember that this harsh reality is nature and how it’s supposed to go. Suddenly I feel a prickly heat generating under all my layers, long johns,warm long sleeved shirt and sweatshirt with my Columbia winter coat encasing it all. The coat is unnecessary….and so I unzip, letting a rushing coolness sweep in. Ahhh a relief, a fresh feeling. The northern New Hampshire air feels exhilarating!
As I immerse my thoughts into the beauty of nature, my heart revisits gratefulness. Quite often I tend to practice this, remembering how it keeps me grounded. When troubled times trip upon me and my family, praying to God for strength and peace helps me. A simple uneventful walk in our woods clears my mind and brings me full circle back to being thankful for what is, instead of focusing solely on what could be or what isn’t.
As I tread upon the crunchy iced snow, my heart soars when I spy a curling gray plume of smoke rising steadily from our chimney. Within minutes I’ll burst through the cottage door, greeted by a warmth that penetrates the bones. Our black kitty will probably be nursing his old age by the fire, his sleek blackbody stretched around the hearth. My husband will be either feeding the raging stove or watching wildlife tv shows.
Now you know how I ground myself in the winter. What is your peaceful practice? Does it involve exercise or gratefulness? Id love to hear your thoughts.
For the last couple of months I’ve been blessed to have a personal librarian. Ramona works in our kitchen at school and loves to read as well. She has been lending me great books to read. I’ve read Ruth Ware, The Dry by Jane Harper and now Winter Garden by Kristin Hannah.
I’ve been distracted this week from reading and writing. My son Branden fell on the ice walking his dog and broke his ankle and leg. He’s been in the hospital since Monday. Surgery was successful and now he’s having pt to get stronger to go home. The problem is that he lives on the third floor and has a dog Jasper, who he usually walks during the day. Once he learns how to walk the stairs, he can go home and recover. I think his job teaching Animation to high school students will continue but by remote. Emma Jo, Branden’s girlfriend ,has asked friends to help walk Jasper as well as hired a dog walking service. Please pray or think positive thoughts for him! ❤️ All My Best,
If you are surrounded by snow and have to shovel it every storm,this poem may speak volumes to you. Shoveling and scooping snow is indeed an exercise of the body and your will to succeed. Sometimes you shovel into a resistant ice or your body slows down because of exhaustion. Take a break and then return to it, you’ll be happy that you did it!
Many women have learned to live life with fear, either by being taught this or by being immersed in the fear cycle through emotional or physical abuse. I’ve always been fearful…starting as a little girl I was afraid of anything and everything. To this day I still need to remind myself that I’m stronger than the dark cloud of fear and that I can overcome it! I’m tired of the pattern it knits and how it makes me feel inside.
What has helped me tackle it is trusting God and riding the storm with his sheltering umbrella over me. It’s not to say that it creeps up now and then, but it keeps these feelings at bay and under control.
Recently I had to venture alone down south on busy route 93 to pick up my son close to Boston. I had scattered fearful thoughts of what if…my car breaks down? What…
It’s February 4th, a snow day for many people in New Hampshire, including me. This is the first significant snowfall of this winter, producing over a foot, maybe close to 14 inches!
The day has consisted of cups of coffee, leisurely reading, and watching snowplows bustle up our road. The task of brushing off the heavy wet stuff off of my car turned into a monumental chore, lasting 30 minutes. Instead of bothering with my little brush/ ice scraper, I resorted to the kitchen broom! It’s a great workout digging out and even trudging through the yard of drifts.
While Tom’s out fastidiously plowing for our little town, I am watching the glistening snow continue to fall in a winter wonderland. It is my opinion that a pounding snowstorm holds a magical quality about it, one that people not living here may not appreciate. The beauty of nature shows with every flake sometimes ruined by a charging snowplow.
As this day flies by, so does winter. The days are slowly getting longer here and before I know it, I’ll be gardening. This snowstorm will simply be a memory, only thought of when visiting my photographs. Until then I intend to truly appreciate the splendor and peace this brings.
This post is from a few years ago. I’m sharing it once again.
This morning as I glance out my kitchen window, I see mounds of glistening snow everywhere. A two foot high drift frames our driveway. A tall pine tree stands guard on the right, several feet from our dwelling. Beyond the yard a quaint little pond rests with ice frosting and weary cattails still standing from last year. Just skirting the ponds edge is something pretty special and a source of many magical moments with binoculars. It’s a game trail leading from our woods.
This is a good view of the trail. To the left sits our pond and the trail skirts by the sturdy oak and across the road into the woods.
A week ago I busily raced home from grocery shopping. It’s quite a process, the store being 20 minutes away and the effort of shopping…
Our old kitty Smokey prefers sleeping and eating to any other kitty adventure. Usually he sleeps in our green chair, his thick snoring buzzing like a machine. Sometimes his dreams send his body into interesting twitches and convulsions. Maybe it involves little gray mice and a plump squirrel he watches from a window.
I think its amusing to watch where Smokey sleeps.
Sometimes on the top of the old comfy couch…
Sometimes in the rolled up towels on the bathroom shelf…
Sometimes under the side table…
This is his God given right, to sleep wherever he wishes!
Both Tom and I love our kitty and enjoy his meow language, which is quote often.