Purpose

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Some of my best writing usually comes from some uncontrollable feelings that I need to just get out on paper. Other great pieces have come from something that I felt was really interesting. I miss writing. I miss having a purpose to my ramblings.

It used to be that I used my opinion column to connect with readers. I’m often socially awkward and slightly introverted so writing helped me express all the things I was afraid to tell people. It helped me grow out of my awkwardness because a reader would  often comment on something I wrote and that would be the opener to a more in depth conversation than, say, the ever changing the weather.

I keep looking at the newspaper, the one I used to write for. I wish I could just leave it alone. I wish I didn’t care so I would not see the things I started, the things I designed, get picked up by someone else. The community I poured myself into get less than they deserve.

I started a photo column when I worked there. It was all about the county the newspaper served. I would travel around the county and photograph random scenes, animals, people, and write about what I saw or how it made me feel. Abandoned houses often caught my attention. I liked to imagine what kind of life those houses sheltered and what brought them to their state of disrepair. One time my musings about a photo of a friendly looking abandoned home led to a reader sending me a letter about the life she shared with her husband early in their marriage. She told me about their son they raised there and the good times they had. She shared how she was lost since her husband died. Her husband died on the very day my youngest was born. A coincidence, perhaps, but she was touched by my recognizing the house as a happy place and I was humbled by her letter.

Another reader had lived in that house and shared a photo when it was at its best with fresh white paint an inviting front porch and an large old tree in the front yard. I took the old photo back to the old house and photographed it next to the house as it is today. I then had it developed and mailed it to the lady who shared her experience with me. That kind of connection is what I loved most and miss dearly. It gave my writing purpose.

Sometimes I feel like I let someone rob me of something that was part of me. When I left the paper I left for my health; for my sanity. But the further away I get from the events that led to severing ties to that place the more bitter I become about it all.

These energy vampires, why are they allowed to walk around and affect so many lives in a negative way and they remain seemingly unscathed? It hardly seems fair.

Sometimes I feel like the abandoned homes I’m so fascinated with. Which is hard for the people I love to understand. I should be more fulfilled, right? I have nothing to complain about. Life really is good. I know this. So, I redirect my focus to the people close to me, meanwhile I look for ways to reach out through writing, music, something — anything — because talent shouldn’t sit idle, it needs somewhere to go. Artists need an audience, musicians need someone to listen, writers need readers, and we all need a purpose.

 

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That camera takes good pictures

Yep, that’s right, that camera finds the best composition, focuses itself, it adjusts its own exposure, waits for the right clouds to pass in the background and just at the right moment it takes a great picture. At least that’s what I was thinking when yet again I heard that deplorable phrase from yet another close family member (my husband has been one to say this, but quickly learned the error of his ways). I just want to hand them my camera and say here have at it. I want to say that to a lot of people in a lot of situations; here take the machine see if you can produce the same result; here take the computer and the programs and don’t forget to check for typos. I don’t get hurt with comments like these, I just find if funny that people believe it is so simple and easy to produce something that looks nice whether it’s a picture, quilt, great piece of writing or what ever it may be. I admire photographers’ work,  writers’ well written literature and all those beautiful things I know somebody has poured their soul into. To all my friends and blogging friends out there whose talents I so greatly enjoy, thanks for the hard work. 🙂

Pictures the camera took:


On a side note we have begun our house building. My husband is so anxious to start framing it. He is going to be working with his friend who is a builder to frame the house. Can you imagine the excitement of a man who loves building things and working tools I can’t name, when he knows he is going to be building his family’s home with his own hands, nail by nail board by board. It’s been like watching a kid before Christmas, he can hardly contain himself.

The other kids “at Christmas” with the giant toys.

Another Glorious Morning

I admit it, I am one of those people. The ones that wake up early even on weekends – on purpose. I am ready to tackle the day after my first cup of coffee. I revel in the serenity the birth of a new day brings. I watch sunrises with a thankful heart for new chances and a clean slate. I can’t wait to wake up and know that yesterday is gone with all it’s sorrows, trouble and frustrations. Maybe if you saw a few of these every other morning you could become a morning person too. Maybe not. But this is (besides my family of course) what keeps me going, a clean slate written all over the sky and embodied in the jeweled grasses early everyday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

New beginnings

The one beginning that has the most emotional impact on me is my oldest son is starting Kindergarten this week! It is the beginning of his 13 year long adventure ending in a high school diploma. It is the beginning of my adjusting to him not being home during the week with me for the first time since he was born. It will be a first for the little one too; this will be the first time he is with out his brother every day for several hours at a time. He will also be getting to know a new baby-sitter with out his big brother there all day with him. Not that they get along well enough to look out for each other, but the familiar face in an unfamiliar environment would, I think, be some comfort.

We finally have arrived at the point where we have begun the process of building our house. We’ve started getting numbers together for the bank, getting all the planning and zoning stuff straightened out and contacting all the subcontractors, etc. We are contracting it out ourselves so I think anyone that is looking to invest during the next 6 months, Excedrin or Advil might be a good one to go with… 😉  I will update with pics of the progress, but I may be MIA here and there for a while.

Finally, I have come to the conclusion that I need to de-stress — I think of this now as all these major stress causing things are getting ready to happen. There are another thousand other things going on that I won’t go into as well. It took good ol’ TMJ getting aggravated to the point of a locked jaw (from teeth grinding at night) for me to realize, even though I don’t feel stressed out, my body is telling me to slow down and change some things. Today was day one of exercising, eating better, reading more, making time to create music again and just focus on some outlets for whatever subconscious stress may be there.

And of course having more fun with my kids, they are growing so fast. It seems like they were just born and now our oldest baby is going to school. sigh.

This weekend we went to Bernheim Aboretum and Research Forest. Here are some pictures from our adventure:

A really amazing sculpture, Snake Hollow by Patrick Dougherty. The boys enjoyed exploring the many tunnels, windows and doors that weaved in and out and lead them to a different ending with every turn!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I whine and give him the sad puppy eyes I won’t have to walk!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here we are again, attempting to get a family picture.  Attempt with the mini tripod… I like how my oldest son and husband look completely annoyed and youngest is looking for an opportunity to run, while I point at the camera at just the right moment (lost count) trying to get the kids to look in the general direction of the camera.

Again a well intending stranger approaches and says “I’m an Amateur Photographer, would you like me to take your picture?” My first thought was, yeah everyone with a camera thinks they are an amateur photographer, myself included. But what the hey, it couldn’t get any worse could it? At least I wouldn’t get shots with me pointing at the camera and an aggravated husband at my forcing the unhappy children to keep posing until I get it right.

 

 

 

Here goes…

I guess he knew what he was doing after all! 🙂

 

 

 

Finally here is the big guy on his big day.

Fields of Lace

 

Little lacy flowers dancing in the breeze in nearly every meadow this time of year. Beware, there is a hidden danger in alluring meadows like the one you see. I have come to the conclusion that anytime you see someone carelessly strolling through a field brushing their hand across the grass and flowers, it is definitely NOT in Kentucky. If you are ignorant brave enough or just don’t know what you’re doing, you could walk through the tall grass to admire or pick these and other beautiful wildflowers but the dreaded menace of the south will be waiting for unsuspecting hosts. What is this menace I speak of? Chiggers. The tiny mites that wait on tall grasses and Queen Anne’s Lace (affectionately called Chigger Weed by anyone who has suffered from the little pests). I haven’t had them in years, mostly because I just don’t venture into meadows and fields for blackberry picking with a tank top, shorts and flip-flops. 😉

I admire Queen Anne’s Lace from a distance. Lucky you, though! You don’t even have to risk getting too close, you can look at my picture!

Quenched

Parched, dry, dusty and dying, it appeared
laying my head on my pillow and drifting into a dream.

My senses are awakened by the scent of moist earth
riding on a cool and gentle breeze through my window.

Familiar sounds, distant but remembered.
Little pelts on my roof top.

Tiny drops of an antidote for the affliction plaguing the land.
They call it drought. Earth is now quenched.

It has rained.

Black and Blue and Wining About It

Black and blue berries that is. The grandma, the boys and I went to pick some berries at a local winery. Grandma is friends with the owner and they let us pick some (second crop) blueberries and blackberries. I am not one to rave about something if it isn’t worth the raving, so the fact that I am writing at all about their wine says something about the product.

McIntyre’s Winery makes some of the best blueberry and blackberry wine I’ve ever had. Established in 2011, they are a small winery just southeast of Bardstown in a beautiful little area called Botland. Tommy and Debbie McIntyre are the friendliest people and they truly enjoy what they do, it shows in their product.

The blueberry wine sort of dances on your tongue with a slightly playful hint of blueberries. The blackberry, a more robust fruit, has a fuller bodied taste. Anyway, both are really good, especially if you are looking for something a little off the beaten path.

http://www.mcintyreswinery.com/index.asp

Here are some pics from our latest berry picking adventures.

Grandma keeping watch.

I’ll just take some from your bucket, mine seems to have a hole in it or something.

Tommy McIntyre, the owner