Amazing photo -- I marvel at how our children look so amazing so close-up -- the smoothness, the youth, so beautiful and pure and innocent but wise, too.
what i thought love was is so much less than what it is
Our Pack: Dakota Wolf, Lola Moon, Ian Oliver and our baby, Ever Elizabeth
Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible. -Jane Rubietta
you can stand under my umbrella
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"Poetry has nothing to do with poetry. Poetry is how the air goes green before thunder. Is the sound you make when you come, and why you live and how you bleed, and The sound you make or don't make when you die."- Gwendolyn MacEwen
the light is on for you
These Words are Sweet Vodka to my Brain
vodka gimlet
tulip
toulouse
toss
toothsome
tenderhooks
swan
starlings
spritz
slut
scotch
saffron
radish
primrose
poppy and her cousins, poppet & and poppy-cock
plum
owlet
mint julep
magnolia
lux
lola
linden
lament
juniper
jazz
imogene
gossamer
foxglove, fret
forensic
flux
feverfew
eyelet
elixer
crocus
clover
champagne
bramble
bluet
bandersnatch
apple
agitate
nobody's perfect
"Her looks fading, the vain Lispector became increasingly reclusive and demanding. Addicted to cigarettes and sleeping pills, she exhibited erratic and sometimes imperious behavior. She would call friends in the middle of the night and flee dinner parties for little apparent reason. She had a reputation for being a liar."-<em>NYT on Clarice Lispector
My dear child, who can tell? One can only tell that, by remembering something which happened where we lived before; and as we remember nothing, we know nothing about it; and no book, and no man, can ever tell us certainly.
Some couples don’t ask much of one another after they’ve worked out the fundamentals of jobs and children. Some live separate intellectual and cultural lives, and survive, but the most intense, most fulfilling marriages need, I think, to struggle toward some kind of ideological convergence. Norman Rush
Amazing photo -- I marvel at how our children look so amazing so close-up -- the smoothness, the youth, so beautiful and pure and innocent but wise, too.
There is such beauty in your life.
What a lovely photograph and beautiful, beautiful quotation.
Lovely....and your daughter is just beautiful.
Happy St. Paddy's Day!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Happy St. Pats, Maggie dear!
Love,
SB
I love old poetry...I love new too but sometimes those love poems just get to me...
Such a gorgeous photo of her!
Yup. It's official. I come over to visit your blog and I start breathing again.
Happy St. Patrick's Day to you and yours, Maggie May :)
Song
A rowan like a lipsticked girl.
Between the by-road and the main road
Alder trees at a wet and dripping distance
Stand off among the rushes.
There are the mud-flowers of dialect
And the immortelles of perfect pitch
And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens.
~ Seamus Heaney
Oh that poem is absolutely gorgeous. I want to eat it up.
thank you
I'm reaching for a pen to write that down.
Beautiful; and I love the touch of green!
Love the photo - it makes me feel all happy inside. :) Happy St. Paddy's Day!
I love this quote Maggie. And your pictures of your Lola are gorgeous--as are you, Miss Maggie May :)
These words and this photo are beautiful.
all beauty.
so lovely!
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