The fields reflect the farmer's spring efforts.

Their dedication lay wake upon the warm summer's sun.

She passes these flat portions of land.

Wind rows pull at her. She remembers bailing the alfalfa into hay bails as a child.

She remembers the long sultry afternoons pent up in the tractor.

A lifetime ago.

Her 4x4 continues along the long straight path made of hills and windmills.

To the right rests the small town in which she shares so many memories.

Ahead lies her roots.

 The mound of trees calls her.

There, the swing set once set. To the right was the willow tree she'd spend her late afternoons in.

Below is the hill she'd escape to. Lost in the sage. Time ago.

Today she is lost in time. Is it then she finds solace? Is it those memories that hold her down?

Is this the foundation in which she longs to solidify?

This the basis of her life?

These memories the root in which takes hold of her tomorrow?
The wakes break against the sides of the rocks.

Passing through the collage of trees and shrubbery, she sets her sights ahead.

She crosses the ever familiar river with it's boats and jet skiis.

The tan bridge takes her across as she loses herself in floods of thoughts.

The wakes brake against the steep rocks.

The valley's dawn breaks. She can see the skyline from the ridge.
The exit takes her through the sad of society. The sick, the hungry, the ridden.
Her 4x4 makes a right onto the hill. Across the bridge she heads along the straight.
Where is she going? Where is she headed? Is this destination of her sunrise? The sun that shall set in her skies morning? There the sunrise stood. With that smile. With that debonair expression. That stance. Those eyes. The tension overlooked. The lust between the sweet, seductive passing glances. He grabs her in his dark strong arms. The heat from within intoxifies her. She becomes the epitome of what could be. She this woman of sad. Now a woman of worth.

What does it all mean? Is this the feeling she is meant to embrace? She asks herself if she deserves these holes in his words. Are they true? This amazing person...is it too much? Or is this reality of kindness and sincerity? Qualities yet not known. Falling down.

She's carried through the dark. She's left with her thoughts. She's never going home.
Home with it's meaning. Home with it's opinions and obligations.
Say good bye. Don't follow. Her misery so hollow. Thanks Layne.

Thanks for reading with me :)

What does it look like when a woman takes a stand.

When she says enough.

When she begins to free her heart from the sadness.

When she turns her head from the pain.

When she sheds the deep and

reigns in the light.

When she closes the broken door.

When she walks away.

When familiar becomes distant

and 

happiness becomes new.

Burying the weak that holds her down under the compression.

So strong, entirely too controlled.

The heap of years past bears too heavy.

She can't breath, this weight finds powerful.

She fights for air. The thick cloud of waste hovers.

Waste of time, waste of love, waste of life.

Hovers until she's engulfed. She waits in silence.

She pleads with her savior. She sits in the dark.

Looking turns seeking; seeking turns found.

His palm is out. She hears the soft words "take hold."

 Rising her head from the dark, she lifts her chin to His light.

He comforts her soul. Her pain descends upward.

Pain is thrown into the fire. Ashes fade into thin air.

They cleave to their own understanding.

They persuade her with their distorted notions.

Understanding are they not.

Judgmental though are they.

They use His words not to help but to patronize.

She longs for rest. Hundreds of miles away is she.

Still not far enough. 

With every turn there they are.

Searching through fine print to correct the error in her ways.

The error of escape...freedom.

They want her to exist in their desires.

She does not matter. Her heart does not count.

They say she's sad, lost, broken.

But do they listen to those words spoken?

They tell her:

Better to remain in shattered reality than to

 live among her dreams.

In this moment she runs. She runs toward all she's ever envisioned.

Running towards the light from her window. The same light she's followed

in her dreams. It stands there...smiling. 

Thanks for reading with me :)

In her dreams...

There's happiness. Happiness with her heart. Happiness in her heart. In her dreams the struggle is of no longer. These dreams bring simple pleasures. Instead of searching and longing for the grace given gratitude she has been fed to seek, she is well in her own. Her gratitude for all things beautiful  swells within the depths of her starved soul. 

In her dreams... no longer are her days dependent upon the ever ceasing battle to find love in the flesh. No longer are her days a down fall of tears. No longer are her days wasted by endless search for anything kind, anything beautiful, anything worth the very torment that drains the life from her fingertips.

In her dreams... she doesn't need to hear affirmations because she will already know he loves her. The wonderment won't exist. Assurance will gleam to the light of each new day. Joy will hold tight as the sun sets each night.

When she wakes up from these dreams she sees hate and feels pain. She lays her head down on the pillow and closes her eyes. She doesn't want to wake up. She wants to remain in cosmic imagination escaping this thing she calls reality. Her life. 

Heaviness is all she bears as she awakes each morning. Floating from each obligation to the next. She spends any spare moment lost in her dreams. She sees the clutch of their hands. She remembers the warm embrace. She sails down the long winding road of lost times. 

Her dreams fall to a shatter as she stares into the reflection hanging on the cold wall. Who is this young woman? This dreamer with sad green eyes? She who bears scars not seen from outside but hidden deep within her broken heart. Deep within the traps of her mind. Hidden from world, living a lie. A lie. 

Years reflect on her porcelain skin as she runs her fingers across her cheeks catching the tears. Falling again like rain, she hides from the world. Understanding are they not for they do not live their days broken. Broken into emptiness. Expected to remain.

She suffocates as the list is reread. She dies a bit more as sits upon the edge of the chair absorbing his cruel tongue. She picks herself up from the self beaten floor and smiles. This ever smile in vain. A lie...again. A decade of lies. A decade of hope.

She slips away later as she closes her eyes and dreams of what may be.  In moments dashed are her dreams, once more. 

Hope is tarnished as it drifts from each morning into night. Hope is vanished as each sunrise lifts away her some days. 

She travels the familiar path up steep hills and down through green valleys. Passing along the same old weathered houses, same corral of country horses, same dots on the map until she reaches her freedom. 

Memories flood yet never fail. Her daddy's ever present presence never ceases. The burden falls crashing to the ground as she steps from the car. Her heart feels light and her mind finds clarity. The pressures of this endless battle stand still at the mountain border. 

Her dreams find height. Not so far away are they now. Her eyes remain open as she shakes hands with unfamiliar circumstances. Alone she may be, happiness finds attainable. She walks through the red door and closes it behind her. She stands hands to her side, looking at what seems not real. Eyes once closed open to the rays of sunlight peaking through the curtains. She smiles. Pausing for a moment, it dawns on her. Those dreams once seemed hopeless saunter amid the days break. Her dreams are here. She reaches out. 

Later that evening she sighs, as she heads down the long straight road leaving the nights celebration in the sky, and says aloud..."This was indeed a good Independence Day."

Vonette Bright once wrote:
What happens if the functions or circumstances in which a woman places her identity changes?...We need to place our identity in what will not change.





Do you ever feel when your around the group of peers you associate with that perhaps you are that "one" with all the issues? The "one" who always seems to have a heaping pile spilling over on her plate? The "one" who is always having some crisis whether in relationships or life situations?
Lately I have been feeling just that!





When life is feeling heavy and burdens await your every corner, I often find myself wanting to listen to the most depressing feel the pain live the pain music and shut myself out of life. The desire to self loath in my pity allowing the shadows of despair to encompass.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thankful am I that my best friend walks me through this. He has experienced first hand the whirlwind when this takes aim. He's been here before. He holds my hand and comforts my heavy heart. He listens to my ramblings and sputtered sentence fragments. He gets mad and stomps his foot on my behalf. We spout off our "George Castanza's" should have said this and will say that. Then we sit in the still of the quake and wait on His voice. I dive into some treasured books searching for some answers into this uncertainty. I want to be a good example to the children and not let my feelings be the driving force for my actions. I want to bare fruit.

I'll never understand how something so beautifully hand made could come from someone so deeply hurtful from within. I look down at this past birthday card given to me only a couple months ago. It's appliques carefully picked and arranged. I know the rose embellishment was selected specially for me. I open it carefully to read the handwritten words and kind note to follow "Happy Birthday....."

I pause in amazement. The words not penetrating. This cards' en script with it's perfect cursive seem not to jive with the reality she has given these 31 years of life. I want to believe these words with every bit of shredded fiber in my being, but I can't. A little piece of me breaks. Again. Knowing this will happen again come the following card given occasion, I close it and replace it back inside the drawer.


As a young teenager, I used to sit atop the stairs in the house on Clay road and listen to her condemning every aspect of my personality to her current husband. Never understanding why she was filled with such hatred for me. Never realizing what it was that I did wrong as a child. Was it the deep connection and love between my father and I, still after the divorce? Was it the strong bond and relationship I had with grandma and grandpa (her parents?) Was it that I looked so much like the seed? 
Was it the green eyes she often looked into with such indignation that reminded her of he who left her stranded?  Questions asked in the dark wallows of my sorrowful cries. Head bowed down, choking back the tears streaming down my face and into my hands I struggled finding the answer. 
I was always rescued by a phone call to daddy or a trip to his farm. 


Now there is no one tangible to cry to. No place to call home.
He knew, he understood. This is what I miss most about him.


This ever healing heart breaks in two, once again. All over again.



There was a time when I would sit upstairs and listen to hours of conversation between she and her friend. Hours of shredding all and anything. Depicting every aspect. There wasn't a single thing left un-touched by ridicule. 
So...even today, no I sit and wait. I am slow to react and just wait. I fold my hands and speak in silence to my Heavenly Father. My legs are heavy as I drag my feet through this once again. He's allowing these wounds to reopen with the salt of words that break my heart in two. What will I learn from this? I do not know. And honestly, I am tired and I really don't feel like finding out. I don't want to go through this. Can't there just be peace? Sounds of good re pore? Healthy relationship between mother and daughter I want so badly?
~~~~~~~~

What do you do when the one who should be the most loving tares your self respect and self worth into nothingness? 


1)...as hard as it may be I have had to begin with recognition. Recognizing that my self worth does not come from the opinion of others, especially family. I have discovered over and over again in this life that people portray you the way they often see fit. This doesn't not always mean their interpretation is correct. Most likely it is obscured by their own inadequacies. This is why I believe Jesus declared so strongly in the commandments not to judge.  


2) forgiveness. No matter what the damage is, I always have to forgive. Even when my heart is not there, my head is clouded, I still forgive. This enables me to begin the process of moving forward in my healing. Jesus says to forgive 70 times 70. He said this because just because I have "forgiven" the indignation, the pain may and probably will, lurk back in. So forgive it again, I do. Also, I have found through my experience that when I am forgiving, this disables resentment and bitterness to take root and grow in my heart. Because resentment and bitterness will destroy you. I have witnessed it first hand. Believe me! It will effect every thought process that runs through your mind. It will effect decision making and your relationships. 


3) finding the truths. Discovering the truths of where your self worth comes from and your purpose in this life we are living is crucial. Because once we discover who our creator is (It's God!) and why we were indeed created, preserves the specialness in your life. Drifting through life feeling meaningless is a waste of time. Be proactive in your faith with Jesus by discovering the truths, He promised in the bible, will refresh your soul. Begin in Psalms. The writer of many is David. He was an extraordinary man who dealt with more drama than I hope to have to! Trust me, he knows!


4) correct self worth placement. People pleaser are we? I know I am. Not always a good place to be. Dig back into your childhood and try to figure out where your need to please came from. Mine came from a strong willed, hard to keep happy grandmother. :)  Once you have pinpointed the root, there's always a root, you will see that overcoming trying to please and be the best christian ever lived is annoying and also a waste of time.


5) feeling the pain but careful to keep forgiving.  When you are upset and feeling especially angry...feel that emotion, find out the root then ask God to take it from you. Then forgive the offense. Try not to spend a lot of time dwelling and being upset. It can open the door for unnecessary pain that may have not erupted had you not spent so much time in the low.


8) Set boundaries and Pray. Set boundaries by prioritizing your list. It should look like this order: God, spouse, children, work, family/friends. If you have a toxic relationship with a family member then try to set the boundary by distancing yourself from them and limiting the amount of personal information you give them. Remember, the more you divulge of yourself, the more they have to ridicule. Pray for the healing to begin and for your heart to always remain softened, open and aware with discernment. Softened so you can see the plank in your own eye and see them through the eyes of Jesus (also known as compassion). Open for opportunities to reach out to them when God opens doors to do so.  Aware with discernment so when old habits of your relationship begin to happen, you can remove yourself from those situations in a healthy loving way. 


7) and finally, try to fill your days with positive reinforcement. Meaning, think of ways to reach out to others in need. Focus on thanking God for what you do have here and right now. It's hard, but just do it. Practice and it can become second nature. Journal your thoughts, struggles, emotions, days, etc.  
Dwell on your gifts and talents. God didn't give them to you to just sit idle. Be useful! 


Gratitude opens the bars of hearts to happiness, even amidst the storm. 

Spending afternoons in the fresh tilled dirt with her cars & little houses of stone.
The day was left to her. She could wander into the open fields, get lost in the old horse corral, walk along the canal or ride her bike in the spud shed. 


With reassurance that breakfast was at 9 which usually consisted of grandma's home made butter horns.   
Warm with butter melted on top. Her grandfather always sat to the left of her with his cup of coffee and  tall glass of water, no ice.


Lunch~ around noon which was usually some kind of sandwich and soup. Somedays, depending largely on the weather, was grilled cheese sandwiches and home made tomato soup or tuna fish sandwiches and lays potato chips on the side.



Thursdays evenings when her grandmother would be held up late at their restaurant, she and her grandfather would have dinner by candlelight. They called it Pinkie~Light. Because with such ambiance, you had to eat with your pinkie out! No exceptions!


Her Grandpa would microwave T.V dinners and together in the candle light they would eat and giggle, and be silly all the while...pinky's out.





Days that seemed to never change came and went like yesterday's rain. 


At eighteen she would move away from home and meet a sweet mountain boy.
Still so very young and eager to begin their life, they would marry.
Days before she turned twenty they would welcome a new addition to their very young life and all the innocence and care free days of childhood would be laid to rest.


Today, the idea is to wait to marry and have a family after you've had all your fun. Perhaps after you've lived your life and experienced great and wonderful things. 


She, who was wed and captivated from simplified version of young adulthood, would approach situations of her new life from a different perspective.


Perhaps seeing incidents through the eyes of a child, still. 
Perhaps encountering times with such vulnerability & niativity.
Having arrived so soon from childhood to adulthood, she would treat her children in such a way that would exemplify her own feelings and relation to youth.


She knew what if felt like to be scolded for seemingly minor mishaps. So very well and not so long ago remembering what it felt like to be put into third or fourth.
She recalled the raw open wound of having been shuffled from one home to another, many 
nights waking to wonder where she was.

In the kitchen when she was chin deep in dishes and thoughts, her young child would approach her and ask in his little tot voice if she could play with him.


She looked down and for an instant she was close to scolding that she was busy and he needed to wait.
Having lived with mothers and grandmothers who put work ahead of relationship, morphing from such a strong way of life into complete opposite, she turned down the faucet, wiped her soapy hands dry, and knelt down the the blonde boy.


Smiling she said, "I will. Should we play Thomas or Farm?"


The dishes could wait. The guests that she was sure would unexpectadly arrive at any given moment while her house was unfrailed, would understand. And never came.
He is eleven and leaving primary school in three short weeks. His days of youth are passing at rapid pace. Her days of his childhood are fading from reality to memory.



What are his memories of his mother going to be? What shall he reply when his wife, someday, asks him to describe his mother and his childhood?


What are her memories going to be of such a precious and irriplacable time?
Is there going to be overwhelming regret?
Did she enjoy those day to day moments turned years with joy and happiness?
Or was most of those minutes, turned hours turned days wasted on herself?
Wasted in Self?
Squandered in self loathing, self desires...wasted in own self torment?


Allowing he who dwells in the dark to captivate her thoughts.
Allowing the dark to override and hide the light.



Will these take hold of his childhood highlights for both he and I? Such as: 


~His love for fresh out of the oven cinnamon rolls.
Our treasured evenings spent at our favorite book store.
The occasional splurge on Lattes, even though I KNOW he doesn't need espresso.
The gift of his love for reading, writing and creating.
Our summer bike rides.
The lit up face when Uncrustables are discovered in the fridge.
His longing and desire to do what is right. What is honorable.
His sense of humor.
Sweet memories he holds in his heart for his late grandfather.
Days spent hunting bunnies resulting in beloved little pets.
Long ago, afternoons of nap time stories.



~~~
These are the questions she asks herself as she lays awake through out the deep nights trying to find comfort and the reassurance she needs to close this narrow door of primary adolescence.


Is she ready to walk through the slightly opened door of this new chapter of his childhood? 
Can she look back and say "this time was spent well."
Or will she find no rest in the pondering of what could have been.


She feels as though she is a child once again. That ever thoughtful, auburn haired girl. With sadness always by her side. Remembering so many times the feelings of loneliness and changing times. Today she can still feel the winds of change. They call, they come, they change everything once thought of as normal and familiar, into everything different.

Is this what the beginning stages of letting go feels like?
A time that seemed never~ending is in fact ending.
My mothers' heart aches and cries. 
She want to hold on. I want to cleave to this fleeting time.

~

She clutches his hand, once so small now as big as hers,
 they sit there... in the stillness, in the now.






Thanks for reading with me :D

Choosing the perfect theme for your garden 

is important when determining plants, shrubs and trees. When you have a theme it helps designing the shape and texture of your garden(s). As you can see I favor English Cottage gardens.

When choosing perennials refer to what grows best according to your location. All flowers and plants have zones.  Definition of Zones: 

There are 11 planting zones, or "USDA Plant Hardiness Zones," in the contiguous United States and southern Canada. The USDA planting zones are regions defined by a 10 degree Fahrenheit difference in the average annual minimum temperature. To put the definition in layman's terms, the higher the numbers, the warmer the temperatures for gardening in those areas. 

It is standard practice for seed dealers and nurseries to label their products according to their USDA Plant Hardiness Zones -- that is, the planting zones in which you'll be most successful at growing those particular plants.

Perennial often do not have blooms lasting through out the entire late spring and summer season. They bloom in specific times and specific length of time.

So, remember when placing your perennials, you will want to plant annuals as filler.

 This is called Mixed Borders.

Annuals will bloom all summer long and maintain the color in your beds. 

It seems as though today's trend is to garden by container/pot. But don't think that is necessarily the best or easiest way to go. Containers do not hold water or moisture. If you have one hot scorching day and forget to water until the next morning 9 times out of 10 it's too late and your plants are zapped.

Planters are great to a minimal. 

They add beauty to your patio or deck. 

They are a welcome palette 

to any front porch/stoop and add 

depth and contour when placed among 

your perennial beds. 

But if it's time and energy putting into the health and care of flowers you are worried about, than they aren't always the best option. Having to walk around with either the hose or watering can is a lot to manage.

When keeping a flower bed, having healthy rich soil is absolute key to your plants success.

You should be able to easily run your trowel through the soil.

If your soil is hard and clay-like use this extremely affordable soil mixture that will surely bring health and vitality to any bed to be.

Preferably in your wheelbarrow 

add:

2 bags of cow manure

2 bags of top soil

1/2 a cubic foot of peat moss

Total estimate: $20.00

Water the current soil that is in your bed then with a medium sized shovel begin dispersing piles of soil mixture through out the entire bed. Next with a medium iron rake (not the metal or plastic one typically used for leaf pick-up) evenly spread a 3inch layer across. 

With healthy ph-balanced, moisture rich soil, the likely hood of weeds is minimal. 

So the fear of pulling weeds can be extinguished. If this is your first time at hand at gardening... start small. Perhaps the idea of perennials, annuals and shrubs is too much to juggle right now. 

Herbs are a wonderful beginner course!

Using your herbs you grew yourself to cook with will make cooking more personable. 

Seeing the hard work you've cultivated into your herb garden will actually excite you to try your hand at a flower bed. From that point on, you will be excited to try and experiment 

with your little plot of land. :)

As easy as it could be to just plant your herbs in little cute pots, place them in a sunny window ledge and call it good...REFRAIN.

If you have the room outside and really to learn to garden in the ground, make a little herb bed outside.

Common Herbs for cooking

Basil great for chicken, pasta, pesto, salads, soups, potatoes, bread

Oregano great for chicken, beef, pasta, salads, dressing, soups

Cilantro great with salsa, tomatoes, Spanish recipes, fish

Rosemary great with chicken, lemon, pasta, roasts, potatoes, dressings, focaccia bread

Thyme great for stuffing, turkey/chicken, potatoes

Lemon Balm baking in cookies & it's just pretty in any herb garden, bees love it :)

Parsley(flat leaf) great for chicken, pasta, pesto, salads, potatoes, soups

Peppermint(must be planted in pot, spreads ferociously) bake, mojitos, stomach aches, ice cream

Chives (perennial) anything you would use onions with. Chives are less intense.

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BASIL

OREGANO

CILANTRO







ROSEMARY



THYME



LEMON BALM

PEPPERMINT

PARSLEY





CHIVES




If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them! 
Have a wonderful day. May Day!