February Love Story #3

It’s another week in February and another way to focus on love. 

Welcome to week three of February love stories where I’m focusing on things in my life that make me happy in body, mind, heart and soul. It’s so easy for me to go through my days in a kind of work haze: to do, do, done and more to do. 

While I love to be busy creating with my hands in clay, I don’t want to forget all the connections I make in and around me that bring peace and joy. And places that open my eyes and inspire ideas. 

Life is a walk in the park. 

I know, since 2020, nothing has felt that way. Right? It’s not been an easy three years, but  even on my worst days when fear surrounded me, my park was there. 

Calm waters waiting. Green grass growing. Peaceful reflections. 

Leaves changing. Geese migrating. 

Deer and fawns running through the woods.

Sun, snow or rain. 

No matter what the weather, I walk. Even when water is dripping down off my hood, there is so much beauty around to see. I’ve seen more otters swimming in the lake on rainy days. And geese landing with a slide across the ice. 

Snow covered tree limbs and bridges.  

Heron hanging out and flying closer to the path.

The best of all medicine: Laughter. 

Yes, even during covid, there were little feet running around the park playgrounds. It’s one of the things that lifted my heart and soul. When schools were closed, the park was open and  children were learning. 

Swinging. Sliding. Climbing. 

Exploring the bridges. And playing in the woods.

Natural inspiration. 

Walking is, of course, great exercise. It’s a great workout for my muscles and my heart. But it also strengthens my imagination. And stretches my creativity, loosens my feelings and brings new ideas to the surface that grow into new pieces of art. 

I love my neighborhood park.

   

In spite of it all - Thankful

With Thanksgiving day almost here, it seems right to write about thankfulness. But for me, this year, it’s more than honoring a holiday. 

It’s about surviving a scary, covid year. It’s about seeing my children, once again, moving out and onward toward a better life. It’s about getting through every day with half a kitchen since July. It’s about finding new ways to create, cope and even cook a Thanksgiving dinner. 

Thankful for the park, walks and playtime. 

Almost everyday, my husband, darling Darby, my daughter and grandson walk to and through our neighborhood park. It’s a beautiful, bountiful place. Filled with trees, a lake, deer, beavers, otters, ducks, geese and herons. 

It’s filled with slides and swings and climbing things. But there’s one place my grandson loves best: bridges. He waves to them as we pass over and under them. He gets out and walks them from one end to the other and back again. And again. And again. 

When I think about it, life is filled with bridges. At every age and stage, there are many things we have to cross to get from one place in our lives to another. Bridges that need building and sometimes, rebuilding. 

Thankful for a plastic sink and dishwasher. 

Since July, I’ve had no sink, disposal, dishwasher or floor in my kitchen. I’ve washed dishes by hand in the laundry room sink. I’ve made coffee next to clean underwear. And put down a patchwork of rugs to make it safer to walk across multi levels of floor.

A few weeks ago, my contractor came in and installed a temporary sink, hooked up my dishwasher and my refrigerator’s ice maker. Three simple things I am simply very thankful to be able to use again. 

Thankfully and finally this week, the insurance adjusters approved our contractors estimates for reconstruction. The damage done in July 2021 will all be fixed now sometime in April 2022. 

Thankful for clay, throwing, pop ups and studio visitors. 

Because of the flood and the mitigation, I wasn’t able to use my wheel. Without clay in my hands to steady me, I’ve had some very dark and difficult days, weeks and months. 

But now, thanks to moving help, my wheel is plugged back in. It took a few sessions to get everything balanced with foot props and the wheel levels. And a few sessions to feel the mud lightening my heart, my spirit and my imagination. After just a week or two, I’m surprised to see shelves of work waiting to be painted, glazed and finished. 

The biggest encouragement of all is seeing the work I love to do, be loved by others. Given as gifts. Taken home where cups are sipped, bowls used, vases filled with flowers. I’m always thankful for my studio visitors, social media likes and pop up customers. 

Thankful. 

In spite of all the damage, I’m Thankful it will all be fixed. 

In spite of all the fear and losses, I’m Thankful for all the love and support. 

In spite of all the rainy days, I’m Thankful for herons, otters, and of course, bridges.   

 

Things are springing up all around. Plum blossoms. Daffodils. Tulips. With all the blooming comes wind and rain, but I am ready to embrace it all. This time of year, I’m reminded of a poem I just love by e.e. Cummings.

Here’s a small excerpt:

 in just-

spring   when the world is mud-

luscious 

and the little lame balloonman

whistles far    and wee     

and  eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it’s 

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

One thing I don’t look forward to is the time change that happens in my state. Turning the clocks ahead one hour takes me weeks of adjustment. I have a hard time falling asleep and waking up and worst of all is trying NOT to fall asleep during the day. 

Thank goodness for tea. 

I don’t know how I’d be right now without teatime in the afternoon. Oh, wait I do know. I’d be falling asleep. I’m lucky to have someone in the family who brings home luscious teas from Barnes and Noble. 

Making a fragrant cup of Earl Grey or Tower of London has become a daily ritual that really makes my day. Holding my hands around a cup of hot tea calms me. And inspires me to make more colorful and joyful teacups and mugs. 

Flowering. 

All around me, the world is bursting with new life. The geese at the park are building nests. My peonies are peeking up from the ground. Pussy willows are popping out. Playgrounds are filling with the happy sounds of little ones. 

I don’t know about you, but I need spring desperately this year. With all the fear, anger and sadness, I need some comfort, light and happiness. And I do see glimmers: virus numbers are down. Vaccinations are happening faster and faster each week. 

Spring brings not just blossoms but a glimpse of the fruits of summer. So even on a rainy, mud luscious day like today, I look out my window and see the changing light. And hope. 

It’s spring. 

Here comes the sun.