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August 2012
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October 2012

Hello to all my sweet friends. Thank you for those who had a chance to send such supportive comments before I took my post down at the beginning of the week. Truth be told, I forget that my blog is set up to post on FB, I have lots of people who read this on FB who are extended family, friends of my kids, etc., and I just lacked the courage. This depression and anxiety syndrome is hereditary and my Mom is struggling mightily with it right now, herself. The anti depressants my doctor gave me made me sick and... Read more →


Don't worry

I am over summer. One minute I was painting pages and pages of blue stripes, blue striped espadrilled, blue striped tops, and blue striped banners, and the next: I was painting a Cinderella pumpkin and drinking a cup of tea. Yes, it's true: a cup of tea was all I craved last Saturday night. So for me, officially, fall is here. All the children, husbands, and significant others, as well as Cape Cod Cousins are meeting on the Cape this weekend for the Official Last Sail When We Hope Not to Freeze, Be Attached By Great Whites, and actually be... Read more →


We are following the path to summer betwixt and between the raindrops. We are up with the birds ( i.e. the dogs are up wti the cirds and we have no choice but to follow) and we find ourselevs outside quite early. I resist it with all my grumpiness, but once out and about I feel myself expand into my favorite season as the warmth loosens the knots of winter and a damp spring, and the coil tightly wound inside of me as we ran around preparing for oh so many things. I think I forgot how to just be.... Read more →


So hot on Farmer's Market day that my camera lens was fogging up. What do cactus leaves taste like? Do you boil them? Fry them? And how do you not get prickers in your mouth? Did I just write that? It is raining, torrential cloudbursts of much-needed rain, accompanied by a tiny bit of thunder and very little wind. I am wearing an old fleece jacket I fished out of the hall closet because I refuse to leave the screened porch as I am all tidied up with painting journal, the newspaper, and two sleeping dogs. Finally, the rain gets... Read more →


Saturday Night on the Porch Listening to The Wine of Angels by Phil Rickman Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone. - Thomas Moore, The Last Rose of Summer, 1830 My blog sabbatical was much-needed and enjoyed. Perhaps even too short but I am afraid that if I stay away too long, I won't come back. It does not take much to render me mute these days and I am protecting myself against it the best I can. Summer's arc was bright and quick this year. Though when I think... Read more →