Transition. Spring is coming. A few loose patches of snow but some warm days this week will be refreshing even if just a short break from colder temperatures. Some additional clearing will take place soon, just small stuff and brush, outside, beyond the porch here. We look forward to looking all the way through to the stone wall that borders this back edge of the property and the little stream that runs along side it. Mostly we can just hear it from here, now and then. I miss Mom, that's her rocker. It feels like she is sitting here today. And I miss Michelle who never made it here to visit. That blue glass bottle, an empty saki bottle, held the flowers I put there after her passing. I picked it up to take a picture and it shattered with a ringing sound, not falling too far away, not cutting me but it seemed to be teaching me about the beauty of broken.
There is a nigella seed pod there. Planting time is nearing.
Love-in-a-mist amidst a beautiful broken blue bottle.
life
Hmm, I thought I left a comment yesterday. Bet Widget distracted me before I typed it. (Widget who has adopted Nana’s rocking chair as “hers.) I am ready to plant peas and some poppy seeds that should have been sprinkled sooner. ,
I do that all the time, and spring will make it worse. We might reach 60 today. I have the fever.
I didn’t know Michelle, which makes me a little sad. I had just discovered her blog at her last post. The lovely glass breaking and imagining the bell sound seems magical.
I didn’t know what nigella was, so I looked it up. What I found reminded me of your floral doodling yesterday!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nigella#/media/File:Smithsoniangardens7.jpg
A lot of us here go way back. I met her through my brother long ago, before blogging.
Beauty here Jude. To hear the sound of water would be so lovely. I’ve been coming across comments from Michelle in old posts…both a comfort and a sadness. There are many to miss it seems, including my mama too. I like the glass on the sill, catching light and really nothing else needs to be done (this is a little A-Ha for me, just enjoying it as is, not trying to ‘save’ it or repurpose it). hugs.
it is quite beautiful
The photographs of your screened in porch could have been of my long ago house in Georgia, a place that had been home for more than 20 years and then wasn’t, as my marriage broke up (after my heart had broken open wide). The porch was the best thing about that house too and in many ways. Being broken is a chance to grow again, picking up the pieces and finding home within. I grieve our losses and celebrate the rememberings. Thank you.
I remember way back when things fell apart for me. I did grow so much. But it was hard to see for a long time.
Your mom’s chair is such a nice remembrance. Beautiful spot for placement and thinking back. Also, I love that you shared your fringe method again.
This porch is the best part of the house.
Beautiful bottle still, I love it’s colour and pattern. Good that the experience of it breaking left a positive feeling. I enjoy revisiting your blog posts and classes, fringes ….off to explore and take it all in, thank you
Yes, to see things with a positive view helps so much.
your mom’s rocker looks like it has arms outstretched in a hug. the glass changing shape in your hands… a letting go, yet still with you. a beautiful reminder. x
It was her mom’s rocker, a double hug.
Amazing moment. Beauty of broken. That is really resonating.
Happy International Women’s Day…which really should be everyday…
The sound was so much part of it.
beauty of broken. reminds me of the poem ‘beauty in use’. yes.
and really, aren’t we all broken?
Yes, and what images that brings to mind
I come to this conclusion myself.
Oh, I love “the beauty of broken” – you say so much in a few words. I miss my Mom, too….Especially when stitching with fabrics she touched.
yes, still a few loose scraps of Mom here…
I miss my mom too. Tomorrow is Ste Françoise celebration day, her name. I will take a sniff of her perfume bottle, Eau de Roche (rock water) like when I was a young girl.
smells have such spirit
The broken glass would be pretty as a wind chime 💙
That was beautiful and perfect.
Reminds me of a line from a Lenard Cohen song –‘there is a crack in every thing ,that’s how the light gets in’, greetings on International Woman’s Day from Dublin ,Ireland.
Yes, miss him too…
That truly is some beautiful broken glass. And the spirit that lives in it no doubt remains.
I keep going back to look at how the pieces fell. Safe.
I’m so sorry the bottle broke. Was it a gift from Michelle? You could put it back together wabi-sabi
I miss my mother too, but am glad she is not here during the pandemic and the nonsense in Washington. It would have upset her terribly.
I do get the idea of nothing is permanent- the glass breaking
time to move forward- Spring
it was a bottle I saved from long ago. The breaking as quite exciting really. a beautiful letting go. I cannot imagine my parents in these strange times. But they went through wartimes and I suppose that is just as awful.
International Women”s day : women we love that are still here. and those who aren’t anymore (the moms).
I think Michelle was ringing a bell, for attention, for remembering the love
I was so caught off guard.
Missing too the beautiful women that cant come to visit anymore……….
But in a way, she can😌
I smile every time I see her name pop up in an old blog post comment or a fb memory. There are more and more of these visits now.
She was in my dream last night
(((Michelle))) ringing the bell that still can ring… I love the sound of breaking glass…
music
the broken glass like ice cracking … winter’s hold breaking … “the beauty of broken”
an amazing experience, the feeling in my hand, un-name-able