Under a Red Roof

Hoary

January 6, 2014 in Gardening + Nature, Listening by Colleen | Permalink

Sunday morning, not terribly early, but new enough to witness a hoary frost. I had a strange night, waking three times, once after a dream, the variety where I thought I was awake, my body gazing upon the glow of street lamps stealing through drawn curtains. I heard rain and was absolutely delighted, the ground hard and dry from its lack. But the gentle patter soon turned into a deluge and began to inundate our house, so I dashed out of bed and was hit by a wall of water, beautiful with rectangular flashes of white light that grabbed me by the wrists and kept me from swimming. I awoke to the tender prodding of the hubster, saying he heard an awful whimper. Oh dear, did we have a good cuddle after that.

I am loving my new camera! It takes a bobby dazzler of a photo and has so many new-to-me features. I shall be busy with it for ages and ages, frittering the time enchanted by all my view finder reveals, the world on glorious display. I forget the cold, the hour, and start at the voice of another soul. “Good morning neighbor, how are you?”

Presently listening to My Morning Jacket (do you know their cover of Rocket Man? The best!), while pondering a funny day. Normally, I am the resident dervish, cleaning, cooking, talking, and dancing about, but yesterday, in an amusing and quite unusual turn, my presence was feather light and spare. The hubster, on the other hand, did laundry, vacuumed, mopped, took down the holiday decor, baked brownies (a first), and even uttered a few very Colleen witticisms! Kooky! And, as I was contemplating it, he said, “You are quiet today, Buddy. Are you okay?” To which I planted a jubilant kiss on his delicious cheek and giggled and made a reference to Freaky Friday, one of my favorite movies as a kid. Shall I dare put it in the Neflix queue? Oh, yes!

So there you have it, my Sunday, random and sundry as it was. Hoping yours was lovely or silly and always fun!

One Community: December

December 6, 2013 in Decorating, Friendship, Gardening + Nature, Making by Colleen | Permalink

knitting & needle(s) in the blue light of dawn

my favorite reading chair

pillow

often left speechless by the artistry of creation

One Community is a monthly project in which participants photograph their homes and community with a theme in mind. The goal is to both showcase similarities and differences in our communities worldwide – and bring us all closer together in understanding through art.

Would you like to join us? Post one or more photos for each of the theme words, needle, chair, pillow, and speech, chosen by Eduarda, and add your blog post to the link-up. Easy! It began yesterday, December 5th, and stays open for one week.

Snap happy!

Tags: One Community

November 11th

November 11, 2013 in Eating, Gardening + Nature, Reading by Colleen | Permalink

A million thanks to Veterans and their families, for all you have given, for all you continue to give.

Oh, the Light!

October 23, 2013 in Gardening + Nature by Colleen | Permalink

Come January, or maybe even in two weeks time, I want to remember this morning and my skin kissed by sun. Under the wet cloak of dark, let me unearth this ripe with fall light and the tip-toe stalking of everything that caught it. Let me feel gratitude for the acid radiance of faded glorybower leaves. The dewy fuschia and indigo of her fruit. The sunset berries of cotoneaster. The lemony yarrow. The fiery glow of near falling currant leaves. The crisp white of cotton on the line. And how the warbling, tweeting birds danced, dipped, dove, and flapped under a firmament of blue.

Thursday

October 7, 2013 in Being, Gardening + Nature, Loving by Colleen | Permalink

Thursday morning and afternoon. My goodness, it was beautiful, the kind of day that sends the soul aloft. I spotted a Red Breasted Sap Sucker in the dogwood, a new find for our yard. Later, when walking through the living room, a flurry of wings caught my eye, Robins, a half dozen of them, rooting, scattering leaves, and running alongside Golden Crowned Sparrows, two squawking Scrub Jays, and one Northern Flicker fluffed and delicately sipping water from the bath. I reveled at all the life on a mere 5300 square feet of land.

My friend Kristin came over, and we shared our stories, mine nearly finished, despite procrastinating, and hers just emerging from its shell. I am grateful for our time together, time to be encouraged and laugh, be dazzled by a thought caught mid-flight and gorgeous, to drop the bullshit and write, write, write. Cast fear aside and hop into the cocoon is the order of the day. It might get messy and loud, all those voices and threads inside, but they are nothing, really, and worth the butterfly.

I drove to the west side for Indian (dot, not feather) groceries and ankle boots. As often happens in that part of town, I got turned around thinking I knew where I was going and traversed the TV highway twice. All worked out fine in the end, spicy bhujia, candied fennel seeds, and tea, though the boots had to be ordered instead of procured for immediate gratification. First world problems.

I came home happy, ebullient even, got on the web, and learned my cousin’s girlfriend had died. Crash went my heart. Though I never met her, by all accounts she was a person I would like, determined, strong, talented, and beautiful, the type who radiated kindness and positivity. She was killed while doing what she loved, and, at a mere twenty-six, what she would have liked to do for some time. Oh, how nature reminds us to be grateful and present, and say, “I love you.”