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 – for 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 – watched 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 – shadow bound

so focused were you on their little lives

you forgot to sing – to 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 – that 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 – in 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

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 🙂

Porch Poet

P inkish hues of spider’s silk
O ranges, yellows, whites like milk
R eds and greens in varying tints
C apture the sun’s rays as they glint
H ere on the mums, there on a wing
P rompting retreat to shade covered things
O ppressive, this air you can cut with a knife
E ven the bird, like dragon, still life
T oday’s one for dwelling, musing, no movement
S o hoping tomorrow will bring some improvement



she is the light, she is the warmth
when she wakes the world wakes with her

“yours is the light by which my spirit’s born…”

yet he must go for her to shine

he too is light, but he is cold
when he wakes, the world calms

“…yours is the darkness of my soul’s return”

yet she must go for him to thrive

but before this day can turn to night
she fills the white western sky with fire
as she battles the end of another day without him

from her western prison, she throws her sol-mate kisses on long-fingered shadows
and inflames him with the vision of her fiery tresses caught on the wind
teasing, assaulting, as they reach toward the Bastille in the east where he is captive


while the eastern sky shows no sign of struggle
still blue, he climbs unnoticed, in silence
desperate for a glimpse of her before the god’s
realize they are both awake


he tries desperately to grasp her love
now caught in the branches of the tress that separate them
he, struggling to cast off his gossamer shroud
so she may see the love he yearns to shine on her
so she may know his calming and cooling touch
as he longs to know her passion and feel her fire


she is gone now
he’d always known he would never feel her touch, nor she his
for as long as she was awake, he could not be
and she’d always known his power, his radiance, his true essence
could only thrive where she could not
and it would always be so…


or would it?

as it is had always been
this night too, it was his light that lived
yet he felt warm
he radiated warmth
he was not cold
he was not alone


for he knew her touch
and she knew his
through the power of love
the wonders of time and space
she lived when he lived
and they knew…each other

a rare evening
a lover’s evening
a curse lifted for but a moment
but a moment worth a lifetime

“…you are my sun, my moon, and my stars”

may it always be



On The Road Again

It’s official…we’re on the road again.

Tradin’ in

‘Ya can’t get theyah from heeyah’ 


‘Ya’ll come back now, y’hear?’

The Green Mountains of Vermont, the land of my birth…to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

Before the snow flies and on the wings of the snow birds, we’ll be gone.

Naturally, this meant another foray into the wild green yonder of this place I love, to capture as much of her as I can before heading out.

A week from now we’ll be ‘down there’, looking for a home.

If we are successful, in 3 weeks time, I’ll be an Old Dame in The Old Dominion and the other half will be, ummm, well?


I invite you to share my last Vermont Drive By of the Season and look forward to sharing my new home with you

(as soon as I find one)


Drive By Shooting ~ Vermont Style

As the end of fall approaches, I decided to grab the hubby as my driver (the only time I give up the wheel is when there’s a camera in my hand, and then, not always) so I could do one last Drive By Shooting…

From my home in the Northeast Kingdom to the metropolis (that’s the ‘big city’ for some of you) of Burlington, I took these on the fly.

I could have had him stop so I could compose, and I could have doctored them once I got home…

But these are raw and real and that’s just the way I like my drive bys…

I do hope you enjoy my the last hurrah before the snow flies.


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A Day Out with Superman and Lois – Part II

For some New England states, the lack of development makes for an inconvenient truth…there is a high price for beauty. Of all the states that make up New England, Vermont pays a higher price for its pristine vistas and unspoiled landscapes, than do the others. That’s not a scientific fact, but as one who has lived and/or worked in all of them, I feel confident in my opinion.

Seasonal tourism has become the bread and butter of a state (formerly?) known as The Dairy State. However, that said, it’s still not enough to make up for what this state has lost, what it once was, and still pay for what this state now is…an entitlement state with a tax bill to prove it.

You couldn’t drive a mile without passing a flourishing dairy farm; their rich pastures dotted with the familiar black and white of the Holstein, just to name one of the breeds that carved cow paths through much of the landscape of its history.

Nearly every generation of my family, leading up to but excluding mine, was raised or worked on, a family dairy farm.

The sights we see today, or in our case, the sights Supe and I captured yesterday, are now the norm.

Neglect may come to mind…but it goes much deeper.

Neglect suggests a choice.

Being a farmer is a choice.

Losing a farm is not.

And this doesn’t just happen here, it happens all over our country. But here is where I live, and here is where I love, and here is where I weep, for the loss of the American dream, one field, one barn, one beautiful bovine at a time.

I’m glad this day of Reflection with Supe resulted in the following photographs, for amid the not so subtle colors that draw the throngs of leaf-peepers, there are also signs of the times.

And please, don’t get me wrong, not all the photos of yesterday are sad reminders.  Some are of the wondrous sites that bring these people from thousands of miles away.  The commentary only addresses those photos that evoke a sense of loss for days gone, livelihoods lost, to government’s well intended (?) intervention.

These signs are everywhere.

And knowing his roots as a farm boy, I also know it’s never easy for him to see what is an all too common sight today.

I wanted him to know that I see what once was when I point my camera in the direction of a falling down ruin of a barn, or the overgrown and gone to seed fields that once produced food for the masses, four-legged and two-legged alike.

I wanted him to understand that the photos I take are not just a sad reminder of the times. Nor are they just a snapshot of the foreseeable future.

They are, for me and I hope for him, as much a tribute to the rich history and grass roots past that he cherishes and I’ll never let die.

I wanted him to come away from our day of Reflection knowing I see and feel, the depth of what’s lost and that I’ll never take life, or family values, for granted.

So, here, Part II of A Day Out with Superman and Lois:

The High Price of Low Progress
For Dad

(and for you Dad, we’ll start with some to make you smile)

See? You are smiling right? :)

You are smiling right?

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I’ll end with a Patch
A Pumpkin Patch
Pick one…it’s YOURS!

A Day Out with Superman and Lois – Part I

Those of you who followed me in my former blogging life know that when I refer to Superman, I’m talking about my Dad

You also know that I consider him to be just that…a Super Man

As the only girl of 4 kids, I can honestly say that doesn’t make a shit’s bit of difference   LoL

I’m just one of the boys only I have bumps in the front and I’m the one who got our Grandmother’s thighs

The boys got our Grandfather’s hairline (or lack thereof), but that’s a hairy tale for another day

Yesterday was a Dad and Me day

Supe and Lois

We plopped into the Mini, picnic basket in hand (thanks Mom), camera at the ready; for a day of riding the dirt and following the sun.

Please enjoy Part I of the fruits of our day

The part of the day I call…

Reflections…in more ways than one.

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And thank you to my all time favorite dirt road traveling companion…I love you Dad