I haven't looked at it in quite some time. Every so often - and randomly less, I will Google Map the farm where I grew up and zoom in on it. It is nestled in the bottom of a small valley. The white old farmhouse sits at the end of a long drive. (One that I always thought stretched truly straight to north from south, but apparently and according to Google, truly heads just a bit to the northeast.) The winding creek carves into the lower portion of the acreage and is dotted with large trees. The small grass hay field has just started to grow. Everything looks so green and lush. Dad's truck is parked in back with the topper on. I can see the door to the cellar, the sidewalks and the paths that led to here and there. The large garden is tilled and rows are just starting to be noticeable. The hand laid rescued brick sidewalk he positioned around the garden is clear. The obvious round patch is there where he would have planted his string beans that would raise up to the top of yet another wonderful (*and TALL!) metal creation of his. The shop that he built with his own hands, that housed the tools for his many talents and hobbies, is the largest structure in view.

But this picture must be at least 5 years old.

When I look at it, it makes me smile and a little part of me for the smallest instant, feels like he is still there. Most days when I take a look back, I feel warm and think fondly of it all, and time after loss has healed so much. But somehow today it is different. I miss my father so much and for some reason, out of nowhere, today it hurts horribly. I miss my father. I miss that farm. It is the place that he once called his favorite place on earth. I miss the smells. I miss walking around there. I miss the trees and the creek. I miss seeing his large garden and all the things that came from it.

There is so much of my father there in that one place. So many memories lie there for me. There are so many stories. I am sure one day the picture will be replaced with what is there now. But looking at it now, remembering how it was the last time I was there with him, I realize how lucky I am. So despite today's tears, it was worth a look back and sharing a part of that place with you. My creativity has been feeling a bit flat and somehow, just now, it filled again. This was the place that cultivated my creative side. It was the place I grew up somehow knowing I could do anything in life, and my father was quietly my constant support and foundation. My look back today will lead me forward - and all these memories will build me up.

There is something in the air. I feel it when I am out running my errands. I sense it standing in line at the grocery store and see it on faces of other drivers while sitting in traffic. It could be the fact that we haven't seen the sun here in days. It may be the post holiday feelings of "everything has to be perfect and then reality set in". Perhaps it is even our record breaking cold and snowy winter and the fact that we all have been home bound for far too long. Things are seemingly grey and gloomy and it isn't just the 5th strait day of freezing fog.



Can you feel it? And people are starting to take it out on each other! Admit it ... you've seen them ... those crabby "nothing can make me happy so I'm going to take it out on you!" types. They are in the checkout line in front of you or sitting at the table next to you while you try to enjoy a quiet dinner out on the town. They throw their arms up in frustration and rant at others in traffic. I do my best to ignore the drama of it all.



Many of us are here in the middle of our seasonal funk making the best of it. I admit it is sometimes easier to sit at home in my sweats than find the energy to head out into the world. Here at home we are eating as healthy as we can - buying fresh produce and eating more fish (yeah Omega-3's!!!). We try to ovoid eating overly processed and carb laden food that weaken our immune system and needless to say add too quickly to the waistline. (Did I mention being snowbound with cookies? NOT a good thing!) I know that hitting the treadmill is needed to help boost my energy and erase some of the damage from the holiday eating frenzy.




And before we know it - this too shall pass. Spring is closer than it feels. The punishing winter we have had so far will eventually be behind us. And if possible all that negativity that seems to be abundant will disappear and all the good things in each day will come into view a bit easier.

What a great feeling it is upon that date when the calendar finally turns to a new year and all things from the past 365 days fade into the background and the possibilities of the new year come into focus!

It has been a time to recover from the busiest season I have been through yet (!hurray and thanks!). It has been a time to sort through closets, wax wood floors, clean the office, rest and relax and remember what is important and finally breathe in the world around me - be it a cold and snow filled one!

Its also time to notice all the little things that I have been to busy to sense. Winter even with its 36" of snow so far (a total greater than I remember witnessing!) has so many wonderful things. After our Christmas blizzard and being stuck in the home (mostly by choice, I assume we may have perhaps been able to navigate our way around the 7' drifts covering most of neighborhood streets) it was such a treat to see how the snow had artfully twisted and wrapped itself on the outside world. The trees were covered in a shimmery layer of ice. They sparkled like we had just covered them with a layer of antique glass glitter. It was beautiful ... and the pictures you ask ... it was too dangerous and too cold to capture any of it, so the above was taken from within the comfort and warmth of our home! :)

So as I look foreword to getting back full time in the studio, my mind is turning to warmer and brighter things. As the wind gusts to 45 mph and the forecasted high for tomorrow is -4 with a frightful low of -20 (and that's WITHOUT the wind chill YIKES!), the idea of spring creations is a welcome distraction!

I look forward to sharing new work with you soon!

For me, THIS is the most wonderful time of the year. I hope that you can take the time to enjoy it ... especially the warm sunny days like today.

So I am not usually one to "toot" my own horn but I love my little "Smiling Jack" that was published in Better Homes and Gardens Holiday Crafts special edition! I finally sat down with cup of coffee in hand and had the time to peruse through the pages. With the fall-like weather, my chilly toes (I am refusing to wear "real" shoes and socks as of yet!), and the warm fall colors popping from the pages, it makes we want to run to the storage room and bust out the fall decor. Perhaps over the upcoming holiday weekend I will find the time!

Recently on vacation I found myself in that old familiar place. Sitting on the top of a "mountain" my senses seemed heightened. The air smelled of pine trees and green earth. The cool breeze whispered through the trees and brushed up against me to cool my back after our ascension. Problems and negativity seemed distant and at that altitude, the world fell away from us. I could have stayed there all day. I should have stayed there longer in that place where anything felt possible.


There is just a different energy in Colorado. You can feel it and for that matter see it! For the most part, people are free to be themselves and no one is afraid to stand out in the crowd. If the energy there was a vibrational tone, Boulder would be at a pleasant hum. There, many seem to live at a steady manner and not the high pitched frequency that I often feel here. Glances toward you are just that and nothing else. Traffic is busy but easy, lunches are longer and relaxed. You feel the enjoyment in life. You walk and take in the world around you.


But now thrown back into the day to day, I find myself busy and consumed. That tension that I carry between my shoulders weighs on me as I place the calls to continue the various repairs after our lightening strike, and I need to stop and rid myself of it. Perhaps the answer was something that I left on the mountain. I need to stop and again find the place where I stand in what I know, and let everything else slide off of me - find my"reset button" if you will.

Today may you be aware of the little things ... aware of the good things ... and may the rest just disappear.