Showing posts with label seasonal sayings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasonal sayings. Show all posts

Monday, April 2, 2012

hello, april.


hello, april.

hello, wildflowers.

hello, easter.

hello, bunnies + birds.

hello, egg wars.

hello, giant italian chocolate eggs.

hello, readying the front porch + yard for warmer weather.

hello, esperanza [yellow bells].

hello, bird's nest [sansevieria].

hello, big beautiful new pot for phil o'dendren.

hello, dirt.

hello, again, my nemeses mosquitos.

hello, feeling a little summer coming. but not quite yet.

hello, april.

i'm a fool for you.


image source: sparrow nest script @ etsy.com.

Monday, December 5, 2011

claus with pause.



in the spirit of celebrating the season
[rather than preparing for a season to celebrate a day],
i settled in this first monday morning of december
& put together a list [yes, another list!]
of how i intend to spend this holiday,
as inspired by my favorite life balance guru & dear friend
renée trudeau.
[read her original, inspiring e-newsletter.]

renée suggests some themes for a new way of experiencing the holidays;
they all sounded delicious to me, so
i created an intentional sampler for the season
to help me celebrate with savor . . .

i'm calling my 2011 holiday plan [wait for it . . . ]
"claus with pause."

here's what i want for christmas
[oh, & some material stuff, too, of course!]:

:: unscheduled time — for napping, walking, yoga-ing.

:: creative expression — via decor, food, gifts.

:: spiritual practice — via gratitude, music, being out in nature.

:: abundant giving — of money, blankets & toys.

:: family connection — by expressing affection, appreciation & lightness.

how about you?
how do you want to experience the holidays?
& how do you plan to get there from here?


image source: yvi`s torten & tortenfiguren @ flickr.com.

Monday, October 3, 2011

when september ends.


ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when september ends

[green day]

well, september, you were sort of a disappointment.

a month ago, i urged you to come
with better weather
with doable everydays
with self-care space
with change.

but no.

you came with wildfires.
you came with anxiety & negativity & temper tantrums.
you came with exhaustion & frustration & tears.

seriously, september.
you had your moments,
but mostly, you sort of sucked.

so off you go. we'll try again same time next year.

& helloooo, october.

already, you seem you hold more promise than your sister.
just your mild-enough-to-open-up-the-windows-overnight climate
helps me hold on to my faltering optimism.

& just in time, too.
what with the calendar filling up the way it is,
& with us perched atop the slippery slope
into christmas the way we are.

already, your cherubic pumpkins
your beaming sunflowers
your jauntily capped acorns
are lifting my spirits & easing my troubled mind.

you offer hope, october.

welcome.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

relentless summer.


it's the last day of august 2011.
thank goodness.

for me, this summer has been a relentless parade of
rather stressful stuff.

:: a loved one's cancer diagnosis, surgery & eventual cure.
:: a ton of work that took 'til mid-august to complete.
:: a weeklong international family vacation.
:: three texas road trips.
:: tween puberty -> body-image issues.
:: third-grade leap -> labeling issues.
:: giant puppy [40+ lbs. @ 6 mos.] training.
:: searing heat [75 & counting days of 100+*F].

all somehow good [except for maybe the weather],
but still stressful.

so i didn't intend to put the blog on hold for a month,
but i have.
i guess maybe the blog & i, without really realizing it,
were both craving a break.

but we're back. & looking forward.

i hope you're still here.
& i hope you missed me.
because i'm still here & i missed you.

& i intend to do some serious back-blogging come september.
which reminds me . . .

come, september.

come & bring the autumnal equinox.
bring non-record-breaking, non-broken-record,
good old-fashioned double-digit temperatures.
bring our world a color other than brown.

come, september, & bring new, doable everydays.
bring new friends, new colleagues, new business.
bring new comfort, new commitment, new confidence.
bring new communication & connection, one day at a time.

come, september, & bring health, happiness & good dogs.
bring spots for resting, reading & creativity.
bring space for nesting, organization & clarity.
bring dancing, stitching & learning italian.

come, september. come & be a seasonal leader.
bring something new, something improved, something different.
bring change — & i'll do my best to bring
grace & gratitude to go with it.

how about you? what do you wish for september
to bring when it comes?


image source: lettergirl @ etsy.

Friday, December 31, 2010

goodbye, 2010.


ring out the old, ring in the new!
ring, happy bells, across the snow.
ring out the false, ring in the true!
the year is going, let him go.


~ alfred, lord tennyson ~



image source: denniscoleman.net

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

welcome, november.

october is over ... *phew.*
the election is over ... *hmph.*
the holidays are upon us ... like it or not.

& i'm feeling appropriately grateful.

for our first gray, blustery,
hint-of-winter day.

too much of this is depressing.
but a day or two is perfect for
hunkering down at home.

lit a candle.
brewed up a chai latte.
put on my "thanksgiving" ipod playlist.
did a little online xmas shopping.

now blogging. then working.

i'm blessed.


image source: compendium.

Monday, July 26, 2010

got summertime blues??


“the cure for anything is salt water —
sweat, tears, or the sea.”

isak dinesen

Saturday, July 24, 2010

na wahine.

got a nifty little gift book
during our aloha adventure.

na wahine [the women]:
hawaiian proverbs & inspirational quotes
celebrating women in hawaii
.

here's my favorite tidbit from it today:

nana no a ka 'ulu i paki kepau.
look for the gummy breadfruit.


[advice for a young woman:
look for a man who has substance, like gummy breadfruit,
it is a sign of maturity.]

a little background on breadfruit
from islandbreath.com:

the hawaiian ulu, or breadfruit (artocarpu altilis),
is a fast-growing tropical tree in the fig family,
which can grow to 80 feet tall.

the leaves are beautiful: large, deep green & deeply lobed.

the fruit is round & light green,
about the size of a honeydew melon,
& can weigh up to ten pounds.

milky, gummy sap begins to leak from the ripe fruit.

the fruit is starchy, & tastes a little like potato
or freshly baked bread when cooked,

thence the name breadfruit.


image source: colleeninhawaii @ flickr.com

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

like sunshine.

too lovely not to share:

"to love & be loved
is to feel the sun
from both sides."


~ david viscott ~


thank you, lisa leonard,
for your inspiration!!


image source: suesue2@flickr.com

Friday, April 30, 2010

Monday, September 7, 2009

working woman = redundancy.

Happy Labor Day!

We not only can do it, we do do it - every day, all day long!
So here's to us, women of the world!! :)

Sunday, June 21, 2009

celebrating summertime 5.


"In summer, 
the song sings itself."

William Carlos Williams, poet

Saturday, June 20, 2009

celebrating summertime 4.


"Rest is not idleness, & to lie 
on the grass under trees 
on a summer's day, listening to 
the murmur of the water, or 
watching clouds float across 
the sky, is by no means 
a waste of time."

John Lubbock,
banker, politician, biologist & archaeologist

Thursday, June 18, 2009

celebrating summertime 3.


"Of all the wonders of nature, 
a tree in summer is perhaps 
the most remarkable - 
with the possible exception 
of a moose singing 'Embraceable 
You' in spats."

Woody Allen, director & comedian

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

celebrating summertime 2.


"Summer is the time when 
one sheds one's tensions 
with one's clothes,
& the right kind of day is jeweled 
balm for the battered spirit.
A few of those days, & you can 
become drunk with the belief
that all's right with the world."

Ada Louise Huxtable
architecture critic & writer

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

celebrating summertime 1.


"Ah, summer - what power 
you have to make us 
suffer & like it."

Russell Baker, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer -