Backyard dreaming...

Due to a... difficult... neighbor, I haven't done any serious gardening for the past four or five years. Sad state of things, being uncomfortable in my very own back yard.

But Monday, NEW NEIGHBORS moved in next door - I am ecstatic. So, here's my little patch of green (with a light snow cover). I'll be talking about it a LOT more in posts to come. For now, let's just say that I have a lot of weeding to do - and am dreaming of a truckload of mulch.

Back home, back to the yard, back to myself again.

On St. Patrick's Day, I love to celebrate our family's Irish roots. Like so many families in this town, we have ancestors that came here due to the Irish Potato Famine in the 1800's.
.
This is my great-great-grandmother, Julia O'Hearn Brown ("Grandma Brown"), in a portrait made in 1897. I have sortof adopted her as my Patron Ancestor, and imagine that I see some resemblances between her and my own self - if nothing else, our names and our pale blue eyes!

According to my grandmother, our dear Nannie, Grandma Brown was a seamstress and did fine sewing for the ladies in the Cherokee Triangle - a very hoity-toity area at the time, I'm sure (and still quite lovely today).
.
.
And here is her husband, Patrick Brown ("Grandy" to the family). I don't have many details on him, but I hear that Uncle Bernie is researching the Irish side of the family as we speak! I can't wait to get to know Grandy better...
.
I am theorizing, though, that he and Grandma Brown attained some measure of affluence... their portraits are large, beautifully done "crayon enhanced photographs". The frames are ornate Victorian filigree frames with real gold leaf. I have Grandma's hanging in the dining room, but unfortunately Grandy's frame has gone missing. He's safely tucked away behind the dresser till I can find a replacement!
.
.
.
And this is one of their lovely children - Julia Marie "Lula Mae" Brown Asman, my great-grandmother Nana.
.
Nana attended a boarding school for young ladies - I have and treasure some of her notebooks from school. She married a doctor (way to go, Nana!) and spent much of her time volunteering.
.
I remember her at family gatherings at Mother and Daddy's... where she would play a mean ragtime piano for us!
.
.
So there we have it. My little claim to Ireland, such as it is... I started this morning with my bowl of McCann's oatmeal, and have my green on for sure. Next is a trip to the workshop, where I will put on Celtic music and do some sewing - as I was taught by my mother Joan, who was taught by her mother Juliana, who was taught by hers, who was taught by Grandma Brown, who was a seamstress and did fine sewing.
.
Julia, Julia Marie, Juliana, Joan, and Julie. Life spirals on out. Smile on my face. Erin Go Bragh!

On a lighter note...

...MUCH lighter!!! Here's ten inches of ashy dark blonde plus gray hair, on its way to Locks of Love.
(This one's in memory of little Mom.)

.
.
.
.
.
Short Hair. I has it.

Valentine.

Snowy Valentine's morning... the choir isn't singing today, so Tom and I took the morning off from church. We exchanged our Valentines over breakfast, and now Tom is in his workshop. Even though the sound of the table saw is cutting into the Mozart on the stereo up here, I have to smile. Table saw means happy Tom, working on getting our new bathroom cabinets installed.

.

So while he works, I'm "working" too - although my task this morning is a little more on the interior. The little meditation I read upstairs has really grabbed me - It speaks of some of the things that refine a life and make it what it is: all the disappointments, the mistakes, the failures big and small. All those things that, bit by bit, can carve and shape the soul into a finer path.

.

I've been feeling this for some time now. I'm realizing that I have lived my younger life with great passion and not a whole lot of self-control. Oh, nothing illegal, immoral, or anything like that. But prideful. Arrogant. Exploding into so many directions at once that it's no wonder crash-and-burn has happened so often in my life. No wonder I've found myself butting heads with other people.

.

In so many cases, I've found myself moving on - leaving a job, a singing group, a business endeavor - because it was simply too exhausting and painful to continue. I don't know if some of the wounds will ever really heal. I don't know if I'll ever want to speak to some of the people again. But the important thing, I think, comes simply in the moving on.

.

The point now is the Peace. I'm beginning to feel like the rough spots are being smoothed out, the arrogance is being tempered into experience, the adrenaline-filled angst is being replaced with Calm. And I'm realizing that I'm not the one doing this, really... it's being Done. All I have to do is listen, and gratefully learn.

My Symphony

(William Henry Channing, 1810-1884)

To live content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich;
to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly;
to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages,
with an open heart;
to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
await occasions, hurry never.

In a word,
to let the spiritual, unbidden, and unconscious
grow up through the commonplace.

This is to be
my symphony.

(Kind of says it all. - J.)

Listening.

I’ve been wondering lately… as Mom was in the hospital for the last time, I promised her I would always listen to her. But outside of one dream, I really have not “heard” her lately, and it has been troubling me. I’ve talked to her, and asked for help, but nothing. Or so I thought.

There is an acquaintance in my life who has turned…difficult. Without going into detail, let's just say I’ve been generally beside myself with how to deal with it, since this person is connected to an activity that I don’t wish to quit. The person is a Christian, and Galations 6:7 kept rolling through my head – As you sow, so shall you reap. But how to make this difficult person reap what they’re sowing?

Last night I realized how Tired I was of it. How ready I was to just… ignore it. Discussing the situation with a dear friend helped a lot – but I realized that I can’t wear my friends out over this. And today? I’ve come to the realization that the bad feelings are hurting only me. That the passage from Galations applies to ME too – If I sow with anger, I reap heartache.

So. I turn the bad in on itself, do my best to lose my anger toward this person and love them. I can still ignore their words if I need to - but I will do it with the aim of helping me, not to hurt them.

“Where did THIS come from?” I’m wondering. This isn’t like me! I usually hold on to hurts waaay longer than this. It just now hit me, duh, and put a huge smile on my face.
Hi, Mom. Thanks. Love you forever.

In the Art Studio...

All right - for friends who were asking... Here is the studio where I paint on Wednesday mornings... My easel is the one in the window with the small canvas on it!



I started painting in January of 2007, after my sister talked me into taking classes with her. She's a brilliant painter and actually teaches at the studio now, one day a week.


This is my third oil-on-canvas, painted from a photo by Donnie Beauchamp... Finished in March 2009, and the original lives at my Dad's house.











Current work-in-progress, my fourth canvas... Started in March 2009, this photo taken 1/6/10. (I work very very slowly!!!!)






That's it for now - thank you all so much for your interest!!!!

xxxxoooo - Jules