Butterflies and Buckeye with Hafiz

Coming down the mountain after a romp at The Lake, I noticed Buckeye Blossoms right at my level.  So I pulled over the vehicle, grabbed the camera and walked back up the road.  What a surprise to find that there were butterflies all over the place!  Busy with sticking their noses deep into the fragrance and brilliant white flowers, they didn't seem to notice me zooming into their breakfast world.

Imagine this as your kitchen counter.  Nice to fly away when satiated.  No need to scrape dishes, take out the compost, wash dishes, sweep the floor.  Just flutter to the next diner.  Might make metamorphosis worth it, no?

I Took It as a Sign

Someone sent a band to my house,

And it started playing

At five in the morning.

I took this as a sign

God wanted me to sing!

Then the moon joined in

And a few of the tenor-voiced stars,

And the earth offered its lovely belly

As a drum.

Before I knew it,

I realized

All human beings could be happy

If they just had a few music lessons

From a Sweet Old Maestro

Like Haviz.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Haviz

Love you all over this blustery Spring Day!

xoxoLC

Are We Ready?

Eeeeewwww.  No, I do not like these, either.  Even though I do admire their tenacity and work ethic.  Maybe they even have the perfect political system, you know, autocratic dictator monarchy.  I doubt that they have tea parties on the side, or revolutions, or even scholastic debates.  But then, I do not know this:  They may really have a perfectly good system.  Ha ha.  I am sure that the day after tomorrow, when everything ends, that they will still be scurrying around doing what they do, with not an eyelash disturbed.  Apparently they haven't sinned enough to be disturbed.

I stopped my car yesterday, with intention to photograph a flock of cliff swallows fluttering in a roadside puddle.  They looked like butterflies, all fairy motion and soft colors.  I pulled off the pavement, gathered up my camera, and snuck up on them.  They flew off, circled back around, and left, every one of them.  I thought, fine, I'll just sit here and wait.  They won this round.  I really really really want to catch them doing this mud gathering.  I noticed again this morning, this gathering in the puddle, but I was in too much of a hurry to stop.  You know, with the end of the world imminent, it is imperative to complete one's list.  Note to self:  it is exquisite to sit in the sun and wait for swallows.

Who would live in that little box on a pole at the top of the knoll?  A troll?

What happens when lightening strikes?

Storms have been blowing through our landscape, creating splendor making it difficult to drive in a straight line.  Fortunately all of the little country roads lead to where I am trying to go, so, eventually the destination becomes a reality, not just an endless journey.  No wonder I am not an ant.

This morning, before I was awake, so I didn't even know it was happening, a brisk and cool wind came up and blew open the front door.

Luna Dog was asleep in her chair.  I am sure that she looked up, sleepy-eyes long gone, and noticed a grand opportunity.  Oh yes.  All she had to do was bang the screen door, and freedom would extend its morning promise to her, kind of like life is a bowl of cherries, or something of that nature.  So, she calmly slipped out of her chair and did it; seized the opportunity.

Wild Man was asleep, until he heard the screen door bounce against the side of the house.  He leapt, in one 80lb bounce, using Wayne as the launching pad, onto the rug next to the bed.  In desparation to catch up with Luna, he hurled himself into the livingroom, gaining no traction on the slick floor.  This is when Wayne and and I woke up:  the noise was deafening, what I would imagine rolling up the floor would sound like, using hammers, winches and scraping tools.  When we arrived, to find the door waving in the wind, chairs askew, rugs piled in the hallway, the obvious conclusion was that the dogs had escaped.

Now.  I am wondering.  What are they escaping from?  They are not mistreated, they have food, shelter, cars, their needs are met every moment of every day.  What is the problem?

Oh.  I forgot.  The world ends the day after tomorrow.  There are cats to chase, chickens to frighten.  There is barely-light early morning.  There is feeling every muscle put to the pursuit of careening down the lane.

Oh.  I am seeing a lesson forming here:  What am I going to do DO for these last remaining days?  I had better get busy.

I love you.
xoxoLPC

Very Late Mother's Day Post

A Rose Garden.  Why didn't I ever take Mary Carmelita Paine out there?  Realistically, she did not spend enough time in our town to get her there, as she was usually driving straight-through to Nevada, stopping only long enough for a cup of instant Folgers coffee.  That woman had an iron constitution.  For the second year in a row, we have celebrated Mother's Day at the Russian River Rose Garden, a dazzling place at this time of year.  Of course, we wander and bump into each other, admire the blooms, and reminisce about MCP; my Mom, my kid's Gramma Mary.  We miss her.  Maybe she's touring the gardens with us?  We know for certain when certain mischievous thoughts enter our minds, or we trip over unseen obstacles, or a honey bee lands in our hair.  She is with us.

The Garden has heirloom Iris as well.  Oh.  It is easy to see God at work in a Garden, no?

A nice man helped me round up this crew, got them to bunch up, and took a photo for us!  Thanks!  No pinching, biting and very little grumbling.  Yay!

Glorious, I say.

And I am now up-and-running over here : The new blog is my "official & and professional" website for my art.  I am still learning the crazy wonders of Wordpress: I am here to tell you, it is slightly complicated.  So please visit, say hi, and be patient while I clamber up this learning curve!

Just wait, I say.  One of these days I will have an ipad.

xoxoLC

Fabulous Friday

I have spoken of the frenetic goings on of these past weeks.  It continues.  I embrace this, and realize that stress arises, even when you're having tons of fun and excitement in life.  Does the Dogwood feel a similar tightening as it lets go into full-flowered brilliance?

This purple wonder is blooming on Sarah's fence.  She says it's three years old!  I say, what a marvel (having not noticed it for the past two years)!  She is busy too, sewing six Little Indian tunics for First Grade Performers.  Thank Goddess for sewing-stashes, Berninas and can-do-it Creativity! Oh yes, and coffee.

I have set up a blog for my artwork over at Word Press.  When I am more up-and-running I will do a post here with more information and a link!  Ha!  The Learning Curve has been steep, more like a cliff than a curve.  Word Press is not easy, though it has some very interesting possibilities.  I have registered my domain.  I am making myself snort and laugh with this vocabulary, I mean really.  Register that domain.  The simple truth is that if you do not, when you decide you really want to, or need it... ta-taaaaa!  It's gone.  Or better yet, it's for sale.  That's right.  Some one will SELL you your own self.  Capitalism at its finest: take the free out of freedom.

Sonoma County unfurls at this time of year into a colorful splendor of wave after wave of wildflowers.  These are the colors in my current painting series.  I am loving stopping to stare at the flamboyant combinations  Mother Goddess flings about the fields and roadsides.   The upcoming Wedding's (I know, I haven't done a post about this, either!) "colors"are orange and pink, maybe red, too?  Oooo.  It is all going to be so gorgeous.

Emerson is having his first Gallery Experience, right now.  He walked well from the car to here, only pulling badly once or twice.  He smelled everything inside, including the other Gallery Dog's (Phoenix & Peanut) food and water dishes, and bed, and did NOT pee on anything!  Whooo hoo!  We are making big progress, as the nut-Labbie grows up.  He is whining now and then, as I have him in his crate while I'm chatting with you, but he is doing a fabulous job of being a Good Dog!

When we were young, we called this "Rattlesnake Grass."  These flowers become seeds, and yes, they rattle in the wind even now so young and green:  Adding these soft hues with burgundy to my palette.

This weekend, starting tonight, must be one of the most busiest on record.  Major Events are piled on top of one another from one end of the area to the other.  How to manage?  Just jump in, I say.

Where ever you are, I am hoping that you are caught up in joy, laughter, and love.  Remember to share your beautiful smile.

Hugs.
xoxoLC

Marvelous Monday

I am working these days, with a sort of frenzy about me.  Must get this done, N.O.W.  "Get it while the getting is good," my Mother used to say.  Of course, she said this in reference to picking fruit at the exact right moment of ripeness, or a blossom at its perfection, or snatching a cookie right out from under your nose.

Spring is sprung here, in N. California.  Dogwoods are spackling the wild woods with bright white.  The Buckeye is all leafed-out, many already sending their flower spikes upward.  Little League is in full swing.  Orioles building nests, whistling while they weave.  Nature supports me in my hurry.

I've begun a new painting, well, I began it a few months ago, but it feels as though it is renewed in its development.  Yesterday it became pink.  A color I do not ever remember using as a serious color.  Let's not judge at this juncture.  Pink.  Anyways, I like pink.

A Self Portrait.

A few nights ago the rain doused all the rosey blooms with clear pearls.

Morning light sparkling, reminding me of my affinity for spirals.  Mother Nature loves Spirals.

I love you.

xoxoLC

You'll Have a Blast

Often I load photos, and start the writing.  The images tend to lead, I type as quickly as possible to keep up the with flying ideas.  I talk in my head faster than I can type.  Often a day presents me with multiple gifts of insight, memories, inspiration, tears, laughter.  

Each of my three daughters has two children, and a blessing for which I am grateful on a daily basis is that I am able to see these Grandchildren often, and yesterday one spent most of the day with me.  This One's name is Annie, she is seven.

Yes.  She reminds me of her Mama.  Completely.  Even looks practically just like her.  Is it one of the perils of being Grandmother that I compare every little twinkle in the eye with one of my own children?  Or maybe, just maybe, it is one of the joys of being at this vantage point on the proverbial "hill."  

Leaves are popping out right and left.  If I stand and stare, I swear that I can see them unwrinkling, opening their little factories to the Spring sun, revving up their engines for the work at hand.  Do you know that this morning, while I was on the phone with my Cousin Up North that the Mockingbird was splashing in the fountain, the Oriole sipping at his feeder, 15 Hummers were zooming, a bright red pair of House Finches singing and nibbling seeds with various brightly feathered sparrows and a Blue Jay, not to mention a pair of sunbathing Quail and two Ring Necked Doves, were all in my front yard?  They were, all at the same time.

Annie and I buried a Robin, and she took over the grave decorating duties, with rather spectacular results, including a prayer written from A to Z.  Like I said, she really reminds me of her mother. 

Yes.  Totems appear when one allows children into their life.  Mystical.  Mysterious.  Powerful.  No, there is no explanation, nor scientific reasoning, or anything.  They just appear.

Yeah.  It's true.  C'mon over.
xoxoLC/Nonie

Exquisite

One of my kids is 26 today.  My First Son, fourth baby, born on a spring day.  He was quite the miracle, being born into a family of five already-there sisters.  Brave little fellow, no?  For quite a few years he was the most fabulous, though now and then a rascally, pet.  We were all so amazed at how he was such a BOY!  And yes, being a seasoned mother of daughters, I am here to report that boy babies are much different than girl ones, and I don't just mean their gender.  This little man roared when he cried.  No.  My girls did not sound like that at all.  He stomped on bugs.  No.  The girls collected and cared for bugs, or threw things up in the air and took off in dramatic flight.

I spoke with him this morning.  Teased him about his rotten choice of MLB team; we always laugh when we talk.  He is hoping for a Berry Cobbler for his birthday, but he is out of luck, since I have quit baking altogether (and lost 28+lbs!).  Wow.  It is just hard to believe that he is 26.  Kind of mind-boggling, if you don't mind my saying so.

Having a typical spring day, with a burst now and then, of sunshine, then dark and blustery with rain, and in it all is the startling beauty of flowers, vineyards, the mountain ranges wearing shadows and new leaves.  A vision of heaven on Earth.

Happy Birthday, Seth Owen!  You are a Love, and so loved.
Hugs.
Mom