Upon Reflection


It seems as if I have not paused to catch my breath since sometime in April. Even my normally quiet mornings here in blogland have been scheduled and timed and limited: So much to do and so little time to do it.

And maybe just a bit afraid to stop. Everything going on that I have pushed to the back because I don't have the time for it just now will come crashing down around me. Yesterday I paused in morning chores and realized the grass needed mowed. And that I had not weed-wacked after the last mowing. Where oh where was that weed-wacker anyway let alone the charger for it. (Note: Women cannot start the conventional pull to start weed-wackers so mine is battery powered). Then it was charge it and then plant the new gooseberry bush and pansies I splurged on. See what happens when you pause to reflect?

I was in the studio by 9:30 but so energy charged that sitting down to paint seemed impossible so I began working on frames - the gluing pieces of trim together part. And counting (and re-counting) the pictures to be framed and those to come off the walls for the show next week. This time next week I will be stowing the last of the boxed paintings in the van and beginning the short drive to Red River. Ready of not!

Was working feverishly on Picture Picks Winners Gallery this morning and realized it was less bright beyond the windows than I was used to. And that I had the afghan over my lap and my hoodie on and up. Got up from my chair to get coffee and realized it was cloudy. Had to double check that with my weather bar on my browser (BTW it has been known to be wrong). But yes it is partly cloudy and 34 F.

And it is past time to slow down just a bit and smell the roses. Well, they aren't blooming yet but I found out the Hansa rose I thought was dead was coming back. I noticed that when I mowed over it yesterday. June is one of my favorite months here in the highlands and there are no guarantees I will see it again. Time to pause and take in the world around me.

Comments

  1. IntelliblogJune 15, 2010 at 3:14 PM

    It's a small everyday miracle when the wintery and thorny bare twigs of the rose bushes are revivified every spring and bring forth such delights - pinkish unfurling leaves, soon to be green, and rosebuds burgeoning into blooms that, alas, we so often fail to stop and smell...

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