Autumn has been lovely. Another late harvest brought in the last of the volunteer arugula and tomatoes early in November. I was able to capture the sun from the growing season in jars of green tomato marmalade. Writing took a back door while gathering and prepping the fruits of our labor. The words continued to be gathered in my heart and eventually journaled. Now winter whispers this crispy morn. I am ready for more steeping hot teas and whipped cream lathered over hot cocoa while writing and reading.
So these are my grandchildren, Libby, Ella, Brendan (in the back) with Eli and Hannah (in the front). Yes, they are mine alright. They are loud and rowdy when they get together, like they had not seen each other in ages and catching up with each other’s news. They see each other fairly often as their mothers are best friends and sisters. I love my grandchildren despite their loud presence. I have actually learned to relax with children as I get older. It is guaranteed, they will bring a smile to my face and make me belly laugh when I am with them. Angels they are not, unless they are sound asleep on their pillows. This photo was taken on Easter at my parents’, their great-grandparents’ home in Pike County, Missouri. Libby is a precocious 8-year old, smart as a whip, and will say things as she sees them. She is a sponge with science subjects such as plants, likes to garden and camp. Libby thinks she is the ultimate authority on some matters; therefore, it is her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and teachers who instruct her differently with her reluctance. School of hard knocks, you know. She reminds me of her mother, my daughter Elisabeth. I adore them both. Then there is 6-year old Ella. She is one investigator, discovers and researches things. Inquiring minds want to know! She is a peaceful child, though can let stubbornness ruin “the moment” unless Mom or Dad steps in. Ella resembles me in so many ways. My Dean calls her “Mini Anna”. Then there is the 1st born grandson, my 5-year old Brendan. Reading in full sentences since age 4, on the go as a new adventure character, wrestling with Dad, yet makes time to cuddle with Mom. Now there is one long word to describe 2-year old Eli … whirlwind! Maybe another word … tornado! Eli is into everything! And definitely has those “terrible two” moments. But he will bring a smile to my face when he says “I like ‘hot cream'” rather than ‘ice cream’ or when he sits next to me and wants to read a book. Well, I just love to read to children, especially my grandchildren. And finally, there is my 1st grandchild, Hannah who will be 11-years old in November. Her nickname “bug” dubbed before she even walked fits her well. Hannah loves nature and animals, bugs included. I have a ladybug stepping stone her mother and her designed for me when she was a preschooler. Hannah is a “social bug” now, loves to be in the know of the raising teenage movie and singing stars, and has limited access to online chats. I imagine a cellular phone would be her 1st choice for a birthday or Christmas gift. See if Mom & Dad are ready for that yet!? Meantime, journaling and creating art are great outlets for her. Mine, five wonderful grandchildren!
Oscar Wilde once said, “It is through art, and through art only, that we can realize our perfection.” Art forms are many, and more is the artist in each of us. The contrast of a black and white landscape captured through the camera, the colored palette made from a weaver’s loom, the Gothic design of an architect’s arched door, a foodie’s crisp salad greens garnished with red nasturtium, artisan apricot beer accompanied with the baker’s cracked wheat bread, the wind sounds slowly dancing from a flute, the flow of a poet’s words; these all are the artist’s perfection. I find journaling and blogging the avenue to keep my artistic mind going. Time is an element for most of us, but I encourage all to take time to at least journal your thoughts. You never know what inspiration will come to you … Relic stepping stones for the garden are my next artist’s project. I cannot wait to mix up some concrete and artistically arrange my “finds” into a one-of-a-kind design.
Below is the gothic doorway of the Carmo Church in Lisbon, Portugal. I found the photo on the internet. It emphasizes the gothic arch. Accompanying it is a photo of my home parish All Saints Church in St. Peters, Missouri, a gothic style church. The parish was founded in 1823.
The written word seems foreign now. Particularily I am talking about the old-fashion long-hand letter writing and journaling. You know … what we did before Word docs, Word Press, LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter. Some of our famous poems and quotes were birthed in these letters and journals. Authors such as Thoreau, Twain, and Whitman are American classics. “Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart,” writes William Wordsworth. So I regret I have put aside my pen and paper. A letter or two to my estranged aunt, uncle, and cousin while wrongful imprisoned would be good for them as well as me. And I regret that I do not journal each day as I once did. In was my sanity through the most difficult days in my 1st marriage. Garden journaling would be so therapeutic, like gardening is.
I have found a writer’s colony in the Ozarks. My new husband and I will visit there this weekend. We have in mind to write a historical novel based on real characters we have known in our lives. These characters are full of whit, adventure, and stature. We are in the autumn years of our lives. And we have much to say as the winter years come quicker than we like to think …