Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.
In Flanders Fields we fought
~"We Shall Keep The Faith"
Thank you veterans, and families. Thank you, all of you that sacrifice and serve for the betterment of your community, and country.
Friday, November 11, 2011
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
:: Inspired by Soule Mama ::
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Between rain showers, we went on a small explore. Alex and Max were in search of trails to run, obstacles to scramble over. Maria and I came along to see what we could see. One thing we shared: a picnic. We ate sandwiches and fruit, under a shelter, and then we made for the trail.
A drop or two on my lens... but I could not put the camera away!
Finally I was seeing real Fall color, and in a park, out in the open. Up until now, I knew of three trees in color, and they were adjacent to the taco-drive-thru. I laughed over this, thinking of all the great articles and blogs about the changing season, the beauty of Autumn, and all I could come up with were three strip-mall curbside trees.
The sight of these trees made me feel so alive and connected to this amazing time of year, I wanted to capture it all. I was breathing deeply, and pointing my lens in every direction.
Still learning about photography, and too eager to *click,* I knew I wasn't exactly capturing the greatest examples of Fall photography. But I was content to make these simple memories... lovely memories.
Of course, when I got home and happened upon another blog... well, let's just say Kevin and Amanda's results are far more awe inspiring!
No regrets... some day I will be in Maine, or Georgia, Vermont, or Wisconsin, and I will have a bounty of Fall to inhale, and digitally preserve.
In the meantime, even a handful of trees and a whole lot of fallen leaves, is enough to give me a thrill.
The boys left on their hike, and Maria and I followed the trees.
Dashing between raindrops.
Swinging and climbing.
Maria thought the trail was too steep for her, but we decided to be brave, to take it easy, to see how far we could go... so we made our way to a trail head.
And we made it all the way to the top. Even through the scarier parts.
Autumn is yarn season. I made Maria an acorn inspired cap.
Maria and I traveled all over the Torrey sandstone bluffs. The trails are in disrepair, yet still inviting. We talked about getting lost, and not getting lost. We talked about clues. She found this nopal heart, and it became our trail marker, a clue.
Up and down the bluffs we made our way, and enjoyed the air and views. When we caught up with Max and Alex, it began to gently sprinkle. And by the time we were reaching the car the rain was coming down in earnest... and I finally did put the camera away. But in my heart, I still have the pictures... of the boys talking to each other, crossing the wide grassy field, and Maria, lingering by the duck pond, indifferent to the rain, breathing deeply the season.
Monday, November 07, 2011
Sometimes a story begins a long time ago, in the midst of another story, like a Barcelona adventure. When I was a Chicken Abroad and very out of sorts about jet lag, Euros, and being so far, far away... Delia and I stumbled upon a little shop that introduced me to the sensory delights of colored, carded wool batting. Mom and I could not get enough, and we bought enough wool to stuff into every gap and nook of our carry on bags.
We had no idea what for. All that wool. But we share a passion for colors. Beads, fabric, flowers, and wool.
It took more than two years, but Maria and I finally figured out one thing we could do with wool: make bracelets. So we made a couple of woolly bracelets. And we made more bracelets with Amira and Janice, and Suki made some dreads for her hair. I even rolled some felted balls, which was amusing, and then sort of addictive, then slightly obsessive... hahaha
Anyway. I love looking at Maria's creations, and this collection of woolen orbs of color, which feel really neat. And no, by the way, I have no idea what their higher purpose is, but I am ok with this. I love thinking about where this stuff came from, about my adventure with my Mom, and looking at what's come of this part of the journey, and marveling at the paths, the twists in turns in life, and where they bring us. Mom, we should go back, and get more wool. I now know what to do with it.
And now Soap. And S.U.D.S.
Gretchen, are you and Joanne still making soaps? I found one last bar of great smelling Apple Jack soap, and decided to add one more woolly tutorial to my skill set... felting a bar of soap. Still, have no idea what the ultimate and/or higher purpose of this activity is, but I can confirm that felting wool over luxurious, good smelling soap is quite pleasant. Maria and I were both delighting in the sudsy joy of wool and soap together.
It's woolly-groovy-wavy, colors all around soap.
I think it's going to feel nice while in the tub, on the feet, and elbows.
Questions: will the wool continue to shrink with the dwindling soap. After many uses will I have a funky little wool glob?
No tutorial addresses this practical line of questioning...
Of course, after rolling fifty little spherical wool confections, I can hardly be the sort who is too concerned with practical answers, now can I?