Should We Stay or Should We Goūüé∂ūüé∂ūüé∂

Okay.¬† So, I know it’s been a day or two¬†since my last post ūüėČ and I wasn’t¬†actually planning a post today ‘cuz it’s¬†crazy busy for us right now, but…who the hell could resist?

Not I.

You all know how much I like a good ‘saga’¬† ūüėā ūüė≠ ūüėď

Especially about cars.  Or moving.  Or houses.  Or other Shit-N-Stuff.


So…after all the blood, sweat, and tears, we shed before, during, and after, moving into our current home, we are considering selling.

Yup…2 years, 6 months in, picking up and moving again is actually being considered.

Nutz! ūüėĶ¬†¬† Looney!¬† ūüėĪ¬†¬† Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs! ūüźí


Two reasons really.

The first,¬†to be closer to my recently transplanted Mom, who¬†is, apparently, one of those lucky people I’ve heard about when it comes to adventures in moving.¬† Her pack and move went smoothly.¬† Her house¬†behaved when she moved in and didn’t reach out and break her leg or rain down through her light fixtures from the floor above.

Remember my crying lights?

She has¬†made¬†a beautiful home for herself…and is quite content to remain where she is.¬† But, we are finding that even a mere¬†20 minute/10 mile distance, is 15 minutes too far!

{Hmmm, note to self…A Drive Too Far…Book?¬† Movie?¬† Copyright infringement?¬† Carry on self…}

The second, as important as the first, is because our beautiful Ms. Sadie needs a place to safely run and play in her own backyard, and we cannot give that to her.


Because we cannot fence it in ūüė≤


Bureaucratic Bullshit ūüöß

We have a gorgeous back yard…

Northfield in the fall

What…don’t believe that’s mine?

What—everrrrrrrrrrrr¬† ūüĎÄ

Forget the mountains then.

Oh for Pete’s sake…take out the barn if it bothers ya!

Okay Okay (ya picky bitches), take out the fence, the trees, the other barn, and the rolling field in the background and you’ve got my yard.


Anyhoo….because Virginia’s disclosure laws are a¬† j o k e, not one of the half dozen professionals involved in buying real estate, not to mention the previous owner, felt it necessary to inform us that this lot is one of the highest impacted lots in the neighborhood, rendering our little slice of Eden…all but USELESS.


There is a 60′ (yes, that is SIXTY) gas company easement from the back of the property towards the house and runs the entire width of the tad over a 1/3 acre lot.¬† From our way of thinking, that should have been mentioned by SOMEONE in the 2 month buying/closing process yeah?


Add to that 60′ another¬†20′ for the build line which runs from the structure towards the back of the yard, making¬†the total depth/width of what we cannot add to, plant on, or change in a way that would impede….a whopping 80′.

EIGHTY #$#$%#$ FEET¬† ūüėĖ ūüė≠ ūüėē

Even¬†though the gas company¬†could work with us¬†on a fee based waiver,¬†they won’t.

But Wait!¬† There’s More¬† (oh goody)

There are also easements from the county that cannot be waivered.

One is a¬†16′ drainage easement, running back to front, the entire length of the property, but it’s on the side property line, so we didn’t give that one much thought.¬† At the time.¬† Not until¬†we had to.¬† And we had to when we wanted to put a storage shed out there.¬† On the side.¬† Away from the gas easement.¬† Ya know, close to the garage and stuff.

Ummmm….Not gonna happen¬† ūüöę

Then {and I chuckle here}¬†there is that all too common, everybody else must have one…FLOOD DAM FAULT LINE!¬† OR FAULT DAM FLOOD LINE!¬† OR DAM FLOOD FAULT LINE!¬† OR SOME DAMNED LINE GOING DIAGONALLY THROUGH THE ENTIRE BACK YARD!!

You got one, right?¬† And you?¬† And you, and you?¬† And you over there?¬† Everybody?¬† ‘Cause I’m thinking it’s so damned prolific as to be down right common-place.¬† Like we all got grass so why point out the grass?¬† Ain’t that¬†why I’ve never heard of this effin’ thing?¬† Ain’t it?

What the hell is happening?????????????¬† ūüėĪ

The only friggin floods that I have ever heard of around here….were¬†inside my damned house and that fault line didn’t help one daggone¬†bit!!¬† (el squat-o)

Did I say this made me chuckle?

I lied¬† ūüėę

Of course, we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think we’d get a decent enough return to buy another.¬† The market is good right now, the rates are still low, people may be looking to get into a place before the next school year….all good things right?

So I ask you…

ūüé∂ Should we stay or should we go ūüé∂

(sorry,¬†I can’t help singing it…lol)

Oh geez…after all that, I forgot to mention why I even began this post.¬†¬†While we muse over the possibility of listing (we’re about 98% there to be honest), we figured we’d do what we always do in this situation…invest more blood, sweat, and tears, not to mention ūüíį, into getting our¬†imperfect ūüŹ†¬†perfect so the next¬†ūüĎł of the¬†newly perfected ūüŹį won’t have to lift a friggin’ finger or spend an effn’ dime!

‘Cause that’s¬†how we role…we Hernandezeseses (Hernadezi?)

We buy, we fix, we do……..and we move.¬† So we can then…buy old¬†and broken,¬†fix to new and pretty, sell to others who don’t have to do a damned thing…just so we can buy old and broken, fix to new and pretty….blah de blah de blah!

In that vein…
We have had the¬†fireplace that hasn’t worked since the day after we moved in, fixed.
We had the Jacuzzi tub’s leaky-ass faucets that we haven’t touched since the first time we went to use it and didn’t because it leaked, repaired.
We’re giving our wood floors a facelift so they don’t offend the next matriarch with their little Sadie scratches.
We’re resurfacing our pinkish, post-form, laminate countertops that somehow were good enough for me, but certainly will put off today’s savvy buyers looking for the trendier granite because ‘It’s so shiiiiny’.

And I’ve saved the¬†best for last…

and the hardest for me…

the die-hard DIY’er:

Hiring someone to do what I do, and do well is tough. But time, old shoulders, bad, up close & personal, eyesight, added to my increased lack o’ patience, has dictated that this time around…we must bite the proverbial and hire a pro.

You all know me and my history with hiring professionals.

Though you know I pride myself in doing my due diligence, you also know it has gotten my leg broken, my house flooded, my toothbrush packed with the toilet brush, and my car dying at 70 MPH on Interstate 91 in New Haven.

Shall we agree that you know this Wonder Woman of Wacky Workmen?

Okay then…we’re off.

We hired a ‘Pro” to paint the interior of our 4BR, 3BA home, top to bottom, head to toe, and everything in between.¬† The references were stellar. The estimate reasonable. The time frame – 7 days. Perfect.

That should have been my first clue!

When. Will. I. Learn?

Nothing is perfect, nor apparently, what it seems!

I’m getting ahead of myself…let’s see.¬† To be pro-active, we removed all wall d√©cor, switch plates, outlet covers,¬†electronics, all items in/on/around furniture, packed everything in boxes, moved all furniture to middle of rooms to be covered, placed all non-necessary furnishings, boxes, small items, etc., in the garage, took up all rugs, and basically had the house ‘paint-ready’ for the start date.¬† Oh, and we moved into my mother’s to give them free reign to only have to cover stuff once and not worry about finishing one room at a time.¬† The house was theirs.¬† They had to do nothing but cover, patch, sand, and paint.

Two painters began on Monday the 6th.¬† The owner’s son who is¬†taking over the business, and his¬†side kick with 25 years under his belt,¬†cut-in and first coat, guy.

Come Saturday, the 11th, one was left and the other one gone.  I fired the side-kick for lack of production and sloppy work.  His smoke breaks alone used half his hours and all of his work needed to be re-done.

He blamed the paint.  I blamed the painter.  I win.

Boom!¬† You’re outta here!¬†

I was told he would be replaced with a more professional side kick, but as of today, the 17th, there is still but one.

Mr Painter Man

Who I call IMA

IMA fix it РIMA gonna do it РIMA be here late tomorra РIMA sorry РIMA IMA IMA

By end of business today, there will have been a total of 11 painting days.

Know what’s done?¬† Hah…stop that laughing.¬† Wanna know?


This is still my downstairs…11 days later

Know what else?

There are 3 walls upstairs that need to be redone.¬† But I told¬†IMA to save that for dessert cause I needed his ass downstairs in the kitchen!¬† I’ve got a counter top being redone on MONDAY!!

I even returned the remaining 6 gallons of my accent color, a beautiful Crushed Oregano green, for¬†IMA because he keeps blaming the paint…I changed my design for him!

Does this color scare you?¬† It’s on my front door, which I painted, without trouble
 What the hell is wrong with me???  IMA STUPID!

Know what I’m doing right now?

ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ etc etc etc

Why bother going through all of this some might ask.  Especially when my house always looks good whether trendy or not.  Always up to date, clean, and comfy.  Homey!

Because Lord knows, today’s modern and discerning buyer would no doubt, walk into a home with red in the kitchen and yellow in the living room; green in the bathroom and a cloud painted blue sky ceiling in the bonus room, would run screaming into the street for the horror!

None of which I put on the walls but was perfectly fine with it until the day I decided to change it.

Boy oh Boy…we can’t expect someone else to think that way now can we?

Or so the real estate professionals tell me. After all, this is only the 6th house we will have sold, so how would I know anything about what sells and what doesn’t?

So…next week, it’ll be Mr. Painter-man who best have my kitchen done by tomorrow (or else )¬†and the counter-top crew.¬† That, should be an interesting day¬† ūüėā

ūüé∂ ūüé∂ We Should’a Stayed and Let Him Go ūüé∂ ūüé∂


Mother and Child Reunion…

You hope¬†and pray¬†you’ll do it well –¬†But only God and time will tell

their first breath – that moment when

your life begins all over again

completely blind and ignorant of

what lay in store – except the love

such love not imagined – all encompassing

one day you’re you – now they’re the thing

that wakes you, feeds you, and fills your dreams

the good ones, great ones – in others you scream

you give them all you have to give

and though you know better Рfor them you live

the minutes to hours to days just fly

they coo and giggle and laugh and cry

the months and years show on your face

“please don’t go” – now – “give me my space”

you gently fade from their day to day

you open the door – you show the way

for them to taste and see anew

the world once filtered – made safe by you

you know it’s time – they feel it too

to let go of the strings – the both of you

and as they pushed and pulled away

your heart wished, once, for yesterday

when you helped them climb Рwatched them fall

saw them rise and push through it all

you’d let their lives envelope yours

you were the keeper – you kept the scores

of their battles won – challenges met

their struggles to come – those not met yet

you know it’s perspective and balance you need

to nourish the tree – not just the seed

you understand and search for the middle

the line that answers motherhood’s riddle

but the balance you missed –¬†was in not knowing

it was your duty too ¬†–¬†to keep on growing

into the woman – not just the mother

you could be both – not one or t’other

you were just a girl when they came to be

but womanhood stalled for the mother, you see

the trusses you built from that balance not found

kept the woman at bay Рshadow bound

so focused were you on their little lives

you forgot to sing Рto keep alive

that woman in you you’d set aside

so mother shined while the woman tried

to remake the bed already laid

the woman you could be –¬†the mother you made

in the¬†wings she’ll¬†stay – that much is¬†clear

the woman’s hidden for¬†the mother’s fear

that this bed of weeks – without a word

is that¬†woman’s fault – their wants unheard

but it’s mother who pays this price so daunting

you’ve¬†been weighed and¬†measured – and found wanting

now silent tears drop to mommy’s¬†breast

’cause good’s not enough – your¬†best not best

your youth – a down payment – not the sum

and that number will rise for years to come

the life you gave matters not on the whole

now’s what’s important – their happiness you stole

by not staying that mother to them and to theirs

trying to figure it out – but no one cares

You’ve seen women do it – be both – not just one

that mom of the year – and – that woman so fun

but you are found wanting – and that must be the truth

for you allowed her to die Рthat woman of your youth

in favor of the mother you thought you should be

now the mom-ster you created shall not be free

to live the life that you once placed on hold

so that others could flourish Рin happiness you molded

so – woman repent – to the shadows you go

and the mother you are must pay penance to show

that as long as you live – as long as you breathe

your life is for them –¬†it’s what they believe

You hoped¬†and prayed¬†you¬†did¬†it well –¬†but only God and time will¬†tell

On this, the one year anniversary of the loss of my father, my Superman, I cannot help but reflect on the relationships I have and have had, in my life.

As humans, we embody the word dichotomy in so many ways….but the number one in my book is…we are as simple as we are complicated.

We all begin¬†the same way…simply…we are born. ¬†Yet the simplicity ends there and the complications begin.

Our relationships.  Simple yet complicated.

We love simply, yet that same love, complicates everything.

This post: ¬†A simple plea for an end to the silence…and a look at the complicated life of a woman as mother and mother as woman, and where you go from here…

If you don’t know…you’re in good company, for I don’t either.

To be a mother is a lifelong commitment, of this I have no doubt.  But at what point can the woman come out from behind the curtain with the expectation that the child will see her, know her, for the woman she could be underneath the mother she is?

At what point in her life of being daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother…can a woman who mistakenly set herself aside, reasonably expect to fix that mistake of self-denial, with their blessing instead of their resentment for putting herself first?

My guess would be…not today.

At what point in a child’s life did they forget all she did…so as to¬†remind her of what she’s not doing now?

My guess would be…today


So…it is time to say what I want to say and hope it’s heard and felt:

They say there is a reason

They say that time will heal

But neither time nor reason

Will change the way I feel

For no one knows the heartache

That lies behind my smiles

No one knows how many times

I’ve broken down and cried

I want to tell you something

So there won’t be any doubt

You’re so wonderful to think of

But so hard to be without

Simon says…

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away…

(header photo

More or Less is More of Less…only MoreSo

Civilization at the end of 2015

‚ÄĘ Our Phones ‚Äď Wireless
‚ÄĘ Cooking ‚Äď Fireless
‚ÄĘ Cars ‚Äď Keyless
‚ÄĘ Food ‚Äď Fatless
‚ÄĘ Tires ‚ÄďTubeless
‚ÄĘ Dress ‚Äď Sleeveless
‚ÄĘ Youth ‚Äď Jobless
‚ÄĘ Leaders ‚Äď Shameless
‚ÄĘ Relationships ‚Äď Meaningless
‚ÄĘ Attitudes ‚Äď Careless
‚ÄĘ Babies ‚Äď Fatherless
‚ÄĘ Feelings ‚Äď Heartless
‚ÄĘ Education ‚Äď Valueless
‚ÄĘ Children ‚Äď Mannerless
‚ÄĘ Country ‚Äď Godless


Government is –¬†CLUELESS

And our Politicians are –¬†WORTHLESS

I¬†am¬†scared ‚Äď Shitless!

Ain’t it just – PRICELESS?


Mommy Dearest

I’ll go out on a limb here and say for most of us, being a parent is, quite literally, the hardest job we’ve ever had or ever will. And, at the same time, it’s the richest, most fulfilling, most rewarding contribution to our own lives and always will be. ¬†alex

One of the most surprising¬†aspects of parenthood’s lifelong journey is finding out that one split second is all it takes for you to come to know the best and worst of being a parent…the span of that second is the distance between loving another being¬†so much it hurts, to wishing¬†you’d gotten a dog instead! ¬†True dat ¬†ūüôā


But in looking at this¬†most difficult¬†/¬†most rewarding dichotomy, it’s not so hard to understand when you consider first, our tendency¬†to place the highest value on that which was hardest won, and second, our amazing capacity for forgiveness (as parents at least).

But what is it that takes parents to the depths of the difficult to the heights of reward when it comes to loving our children? How do we survive the splintering of our brains in a thousand directions trying to figure them out, yet tarnishes the love in our hearts never?

I don’t question the reward; I think it’s obvious. I do, however, ponder the difficult. Is it because we love too much? ¬†Is it that even possible?

I don’t believe so…

However, could it be that we love too much for too long?  Is that it?  Does parental love need to be doled out in stages or degrees?  Or fit into categories in order to not overload these little overlords once they come into their own?

So what (you ask) are these stages/degrees/categories you ask?

I’m a little cuss who can’t (and don’t want to) function without you so love me, love me more, love me most!

I’m a teenager so love me lots, and with patience, but for God’s sake, don’t let my friends see it!

I’m a young adult now so love me from a distance, but not too far ’cause I may need the car!

I’ve met someone and we’re going to get married. ¬†Can ya help, can ya pay, can we have it there? (ps Mom and Dad…you’re gonna love him/her!)

I’m going to have a baby so love me, love me most, and love me now ’cause we’re going to need babysitters!¬†(ps Mom and Dad…you’re gonna love it!)

Mom? Dad? I’ve never felt this way before…I love this kid so much my heart hurts!
(ps honey…we know!)

And so on…..

The short answer to the too much / too long question is…yes, okay, maybe, a little bit. But we parents come to this conclusion naturally I think. We instinctively know (or learn soon enough if our instincts are not as honed as they will be), which stage or category we’re dealing with or which degree of parental love to douse them with, simply by living it. Organic knowledge. ¬†We just have to choose¬†to go with it.

Does that stop us from loving the same soul-deep way we did when they were newborn?

No.  Perhaps it does in theirs though.  For a time.

I know¬†that they love us the same way we do them…in the beginning. ¬†Outside of themselves, we are their world. Their universe. Their moon and their stars, and they are ours.

Parents and kids grow up together. ¬†That’s a given. ¬†No matter if you’re 18 or 45 when you have your children, you¬†have¬†to grow up with them to be able to give and receive all that these little selves need, and later, need to share.

We may grow up more with our first.  Then again, it may just be that we grow up differently with the next one or two or three.

But…if we’ve played our hands well, we are love. ¬†All of it. ¬†Every stage, every degree, every category is of the love, by¬†the love, for the love. ¬†And they are right there with us.

Completely (in the beginning)

Mostly (in the middle)

Until (still in the middle but getting further towards the…the…well shit…not the end, but you know what I mean right?)

Until…they find out there are more people to love and to be loved by; more stars to shine the light of love on their heads and in their hearts; more room in their world for other loves.

As it has always been.  As it was with our own parents to be sure.  Just another way of experiencing the circle of life.


Our children are loved as only a child can be loved and they in turn, love as only a child can love. The universe is secure.

As time goes on, they thrive and grow in that forever, universe-spanning, parental love and love them right back. But as they continue to grow, they s l o w l y  recognize that their world is expanding to include the many, many different kinds of love; each addition a glimmering star to their universe thus far.

But their recognition is as single-minded as their love for us was in the beginning. When they venture out from underneath the love-cloaked expanse of their parental universe, they don’t at once realize that their hearts¬†are big enough to add new loves without setting aside old ones.

Our time will come again (usually around the time the grand-kids show up!), but as parents, it’s only natural that we do feel the initial loss of that connection when our love is no longer the moon and the stars in our child’s heart.


Facing this fact head-on is hard, but absolutely necessary.

For our own well-being as well as theirs.

If we don’t, we run the risk of pushing them further out into the expanse by clinging too close, depending too much on their always being there, pining away for their childhood days when they aren’t there, regretting what we didn’t do, or forgetting what we did. Even romanticizing the harder times and not counting our blessings.

We all can probably think of a parent in our experience who has done, or does, this. Think back to the last time you witnessed a parent who cannot let go and re-live what you felt. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling.

I’m certainly not completely innocent of it still. ¬†I sometimes catch myself feeling guilty for not being ‘that mother’. The one who always can, always will, never says no, never says can’t. Who wouldn’t want to be considered ‘the perfect mom’? ¬†But that’s not perfection. It’s limiting to both your life and those of your children.

However, even knowing I am not (and never could be) that mother…(nor is their Dad ‘that guy’) it nevertheless hurts (and in the dark of night, makes me wonder if they’ll still love me enough to ask again- I know, just silly ) to know that we are the ones disappointing our¬†children.

But we get over it because we know we are good parents¬†who have raised good people. ¬†We all¬†deal with disappointments in our relationships. ¬†We have difficult conversations followed by deafening silences. ¬†But we’ve loved each other long enough and well enough to know what’s really important.

So there is hope. Once we’ve matured enough in our parenthood to realize this fact of life, we can recapture¬†that sense of oneness, specialness, absolute love not felt anywhere but in your parents’ heart of hearts. ¬†It is, after all,¬†our hearts that need to make preparations for the day when our children learn there is a love flow-chart. ¬†This will fluctuate during their life spans, but it will always show a solid heart-red line for us. ¬†Mom and Dad. ¬†Steady as she goes. ¬†What more could we hope for?

And an added benefit to this stage of parental maturity is…we can (and hopefully do) look back at our own parents with a new appreciation for all they’ve done, all they’ve been through, and all we’ve¬†learned from them without even knowing it. ¬†Score!

Cheers and happy parenting (and I mean that!)

Dearest Mommy

Dedicated to my Mother and Father and to my Sons
I’m proud to be one of your stars

Is there a Q in Creation?

Hello Hello!

And Happy New Year!

It’s been almost 3 months since I last laid fingers on this spot and quite frankly, I’m stumped as to why. ¬†It’s not as though nothing has been going on in my life; not like I couldn’t have found¬†something¬†to regale you with. ¬†But I didn’t, so there it is. ¬†What to do, what to do?

My Quandry

It’s me and not what’s going on in my life, that is the…

queller of quills that once quivered in quickness as they quilted quality quarters in the quest of her quair; chock-full of the queenly and quintessentially queer, the quacky and quaggy and quixotically quaint.

It is me and me¬†alone who can say…

quiescence remains in this quaffer’s quaich. What’s¬†quashing that¬†quorum of quarrels, quibs, and quips that querimoniously queue¬†up in¬†the quar of my gray- matter quag; quit of its quant?

As it is also me, the once…

quartermaster, now turned querulous quester, who is lost in quassation.  A quat, a quidam, a word-quean, bereft of her quean-dom; whose quiritation quickens toward quotidian.








Hence the exercise in the little used and under appreciated


A little warm up to get the juices flowing.



For if this does not work…

I’m off to the Zees


Is there a Z word for HELLA-NO?

[I looked it up]


Wish me luck ¬†ūüôā



I’ve been framed!

This week, Ailsa of Where’s My Backpack fame, gave the theme FRAME for her Travel Theme Photo Challenge.

I like this theme because even interesting or good photos can be elevated to something a bit more special in how they are framed.

Let’s see if I have proven this point somewhat…

Reflections РI could have stuck to just taking photos of the stained glass windows and stone work at Canterbury Cathedral, like most people do.  But I thought seeing them in the reflecting font was so much more interesting.
This house is interesting enough on its own to be sure, but I loved seeing it reflected in the puddle in the road. It added just enough to make it ‘more’.
There’s more to windows than just seeing out of them too…when used as mirrors to frame something interesting…it can be quite wonderful.
I can’t say I would always advise looking backwards as a way to move on in life, but in photography…why not?
img_0076 - Copy
Man-made structures can be a fun subject matter when you find them¬†framed this way. Makes one wonder if the architects were in cahoots with Mother Nature doesn’t it?
And of course, in grand old cities, there always seem to be the old framed by the new, which of coure, makes for another type of frame job!
There is nothing like catching beautiful creatures of land and air, framed in their natural environments is there?
IMG_0152 IMG_1235 IMG_3454 IMG_3498 IMG_5865
I especially love when I can catch the moon, in daytime or night, framed softly by something earthbound. Definitely one of my favorite framing jobs!
To say nature is a wonder is an understatement. It’s so much more than that. Ever changing, season in a and season out, always there for any who wish to see. Whether naked or adorned by something man-made; it’s nature’s frame that is the star.
frozen lake
Cheers ūüôā

In The Pink

A Photo a Week Challenge:  Pretty in Pink

I’ve never been a girly-girl so pink has very little space in my closet. ¬†It’s not because I don’t like it. ¬†I do. ¬†But I never think of myself in pink. ¬†My husband says I don’t look good in pink. ¬†I disagree¬†because¬†I happen to think everyone looks good in pink. ¬†It’s one of those colors that brings out life’s natural blush and who doesn’t look good in blush?

I’ve always made a point of putting my boys in pink. ¬†Yup, I was one of those mothers. ¬†I wasn’t keen on teaching them that blue is for boys and pink for girls. ¬†That there are differences in the sexes sure, but color choice isn’t one of them. ¬†And damned if they don’t look great in pink!

Still, pictures of people in pink I do not have. ¬†Nary a one. ¬†A shame it is too. ¬†But one thing I do have is nature in pink. ¬†Lots of it. ¬†Light, medium, dark – you name it, nature’s got it. ¬†So, while I may not be able to¬†show you how gorgeous a couple’a handsome dudes are in pink, and because nature lovers will leave pink all over the page…how about I leave you with a¬†little man-made Pinkishness?

Wow…I’d say London’s Museum of Natural History looks darn good in pink!


One Word Photo Challenge: Winter

One Word Photo Challenge: Winter

Night time cherry tree – Massachusetts
Ice flow off the mountain – Vermont

Blue spruce – Vermont
Turkey gathering – Vermont
Turkey tree – Vermont
Late afternoon snowfall – Vermont
Rare snow event – Virginia
Ice fishing – Vermont
Lake Willoughby – Vermont
Frozen berries – Massachusetts
The final descent – Vermont
King of the Mountain - Alaska
King of the Mountain – Alaska

I guess you could say I love winter and I’m glad it’s almost here

Cheers ūüôā

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge – Week #43

When I saw this on the rocks in a cove somewhere near Rockland Maine, I had a shiver me timbers moment for¬†sure. ¬†A couple actually. ¬†I mean, WHO was that crawling up the rocks??? ¬†I really had to look twice to make sure this thing wasn’t alive!

Too freaky not to shoot right?

dead rope crawling
Arrrrrrrrrrrg…I’m all in knots!

A little fun for Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge – Week #43

Cheers ūüėČ

Love Me Tender

A Photo a Week Challenge – Tender Moments

Tender moments come in all kinds of situations, but the first time I captured my first born grandson in his mother’s arms,¬†is a moment I’ll never forget.


No less tender was when our newly rescued Miss Sadie, placed her head on my shoulder.  In that one moment, she let me know she trusted me and everything was going to be okay.  I loved her for that!