we spoke
not long enough yet
so that my heart felt full and
i thought it might burst but
it didn’t

because a heart never bursts
not really
just fills and fills and floats
drifting on story and dream and

her story and mine
marked upon my heart
my floating heart
in the hours that follow

in the hours yet to be
i plump and settle and
and i listen
for the whispers

which waft on breezes of
daily living and
wiggle their way into
my ever-full heart
which i thought would burst but didn’t

because a heart never bursts
not really
just fills and fills and floats
drifting on story and dream and


sending a little love your way, m



:: noticing the moments ::

taking some time to reflect upon my week…


:: i’m hooked on black teas lately…wanting the boldness, and needing it sweetened…like a treat each morning

:: slow mornings…the kids and i curled up, reading

:: sibling arguments…also the togetherness…whittling and a secret project on which i’ve not yet been briefed


:: peanut butter cookies

:: tired (and impatient) the other night as i was getting our pup into her crate for the night…she went to her water dish first (i sighed)…i listened to her lapping the water (i softened)…it’s like listening to a horse munch hay…i find the sound satisfying and sweet

:: a personal project on which i’ve long procrastinated…something clicked…i got to work


:: homemade pizza with the kids

:: fretting…then seeing that things played out as they would have played out anyway

:: an autumn walk with my favorite girl…she likes girls’ walks…i like them too


and how was your week?  i hope the challenges were interspersed with gifts.

sending a little love your way, m



dear garden


every time i head out to the garden – this summer, last summer, ever – i vastly underestimate the amount of time a given task is going to take me.  i think i’m heading out to weed for thirty minutes and it takes closer to ninety.  i do this over and over again.  yesterday was no exception.

home from a hike with our friends, i decided to clean up the garden before heading to the shower.  my beautiful garden full of flowers is past its prime and the tall, drying stalks are looking depleted and sad this last week or two.  with a clear sky above (last weekend’s excuse was the rain), and my hands and clothing somewhat dirty already from our hike, yesterday seemed like a good time to tackle the task.  for thirty or so minutes.  ahem.

it was over two hours.  silly me.  really, i should have a better sense of how long a job like that takes.  but i seem oblivious to past gardening endeavors, past weeding tasks. each time i head out there it’s as if i’ve never done this kind of work before.  clueless.  naive.  innocent and ever the beginner.

i’m not sad to see the flowers go.  they were beautiful and i know there will be more next year.  the tomatoes (just two plants this year) were incredible, and there will be more next year.  i’m ready to put the garden to bed.  i love (love, love) this time of year as nature quietly wraps things up and turns down the volume (in some ways).  there’s an overall slowing down and quietness.  and this totally reflects my spirit and my introverted demeanor.

cleaning up the garden yesterday was therapeutic and reflective and left me with dirty hands and clothes…in which i take delight as, they reflect the activity performed – be it hiking or gardening or painting or icing a cake.  hands and stories go…well, hand in hand.  i snipped some fresh sprigs of rosemary.  pulling weeds (yes there were weeds to pull yesterday…how did i not count on that?) was less disagreeable as i knelt alongside the rosemary.  one of my favorite scents.  ever?  yes, i think ever.  i brought the sprigs indoors to enjoy.  such a lovely bridge from the summer into the colder days we’re now experiencing (because, you know, they remind me of christmas tree boughs).

and the garden gifted me one last bouquet…cosmos.  i couldn’t believe there were some left for cutting.  and so i share them here with you too.  they feel slightly odd to me on our kitchen table…so summery when everything around me feels chilly and autumnal.  but how could i refuse such a gift?  these are the last of summer’s bounty.  and now it’s time to rest.

dear garden, well done and thank you.  i’ll see you in the spring.
and p.s. i loved you so much this year.


sending a little love your way, m



sometimes it’s easy


after dinner
they head outside while
i wash dishes, pack leftovers
wipe table and chairs

soon i follow
to join them
soccer ball flying
a pup weaving in and out

they humor me
my kicks weak in comparison
i don’t mind
they {mostly} don’t mind
we’re outside

on a beautiful october evening
the air cool and crisp
the way autumn air should be
we move about the yard
the ball, the pup, we four

eventually we turn indoors
where the light is dim
save for the string above the kitchen sink
i know these lights will cheer me in
the coming months as

the days grow shorter
and they cheer me now
the way strings of light should
casting shadows on
tossed shoes and ball

moving to the sofa
light switched on
they listen
enchanted as he reads
winding down the day

this october day
our home cozy
the way a home should be
it’s easy sometimes
the book, the pup, we four


sending a little love your way, m





they’re really into dragons.  especially drawing and coloring them.  they’ve got a binder with plastic sleeves full of dragons.  all with individual names and powers.  i love that they do this together.  i love that they ask to use my “good” colored pencils.  and i love that they leave them spread out on the floor.  i don’t bother asking them to pick them up.  what for?  it’s evidence of happy endeavors.  they fight, as any siblings do.  but when they work on dragons, there is a hush.

and i am all for the hush these days…


sending a little love your way, m