Flutter

Circle Turtle Ranch in the Spring.

wildflowers.

butterflies.

blue skies.

shade trees.

worry free.

family gatherings.

southern living recipes.

home cooked meals.

rosemary lemon shortbread.

morning and evening walks.

story telling.

baking.

coffee.

all the grand pups.

good times.

genuine laughter.

*****

thankful for a weekend getaway with family and friends.

xoxo

Eight Years

A flurry of blonde fur
velvety soft ears
inquisitive, searching chocolate brown eyes
and a big brushy tail that has attempted to knock many beverage glasses over in one clean sweep.

Our Noah-dog.

He was only 14 weeks old when we rescued him from Lafayette, Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina blew through in 2005.

A blonde ball of fluff with floppy ears and a goofy grin.
He was the best "student" in puppy class - learning "leave it" was SUCH a breeze, he made training easy.   Although now he has become a little more stubborn in his older years.

He isn't the best cuddler- he prefers his space.  Although around meal time he awards you with extra love - in order to get his food sooner...

I always feel safe when he's around, he is my protector, my guardian dog.

Today he turns 8 years old.  We don't have any children, but I understand when families look at their child and proclaim, "Oh my, where has the time gone?  You have grown up so quickly!"

So a toast to our first pup on his 8th Birthday - may your kibble always be laced in cat food, your dreams full of squirrel conquests, and your trips to the dog park never-ending.


*regretfully I only have a handful of photos when Noah was just a puppy... but here are two taken at my parent's ranch house when he was still really young - notice his ears still didn't stand all the way up!  The last polaroid photo was taken today, while he enjoyed his daily ritual of sunbathing.

xoxo

Drifting Downstream

as stillness lies
hushed against backdrops of grey skies
breeze is slight
water like ice, currents forcing a chill beneath bone
green grows wild
creating a veil, surrounded
thoughts normally rampant, slow and drift along
following the river down stream


*******

A trip to a childhood memory, also known as ConCan, with my mom, grandma, and sister back in May.  We stayed along the Frio River in a rustic cabin within walking distance to the river.  Just looking back on some of those photos.  I'll share more soon.  xoxo

Prelude to a Storm

Outside, the rain is softly falling, the last drops of a storm from earlier this evening.  A spur of the moment walk to the park gave witness to ominous clouds rolling in and low growls of thunder trembling the earth beneath our feet.  A shift in the wind and you could feel the sky preparing to lose control - air thick as molasses, scents of damp soil, underbrush and wildflowers.  Even though we were far into the open fields, the clouds hung low, heavy and cumbersome.  With each step the darkness followed closely at our heels, the wind picking up speed, our pace hastening, making our way back home before the storm.

 

 

Adventure Before Noon

We hit the road at 6 AM.  Destination, Enchanted Rock.  Watching the sun rise over the Texas Hill Country is pretty spectacular to witness.  My polo film wasn't in its best form on this trip - the gusts of wind while hiking on "the rock" probably didn't help... oh and my neglect to check the exposure setting... I was kind of distracted.  Blue skies for miles, crisp cool air, wildflowers, the hubs, dog and myself on a family adventure.  Hello weekend, oh how I love you. 

Three Seven Four Six

how do you say goodbye to a home?
a place where the majority of your memories live.

my grandparents first purchased 3746 Highcliff in 1966.
it was the model home - purchase price, $18,000.

recently on the market for one day and now under contract for $140,000.
scheduled to close - September 24, 2012.

so how do you say goodbye?

 

 

we played basketball in this driveway - shot "three pointers" from back behind that huge tree - while listening to my boom box set out on the porch.

my grandparents lived here forever it seems.

I remember after school cartoons and snacks set out waiting.

when my grandparents moved to Corpus Christi - we moved in.

rented out our house just a block over...

because this house had the pool.

we lived here at least seven years before my grandparents moved back in.

and painted over the murals my mom painted in the hallway and dining room.

 

Papa built the back house by himself.

at one point I thought I could live out there...  but with no a/c... yeah, that didn't happen.

we were always warned to be careful with the mesquite trees all around the pool - thorns and barefeet don't mix well. 

that never stopped us from running barefoot in the grass.

racoons would come visit from the creek below and would scamper around the pool waiting for dinner scraps.

I remember a coyote came up to the back fence once - and just stared towards the house - still scares me to this day.

a turkey vulture met his untimely demise on a power line while we were in the pool once... snap, crackle, pop and feathers... it was amusing.



the old door that I wish I could take with me from the house that Papa built.

we had pool parties on this porch.

my cat, Suki, had four little kittens in here.

Papa always made sure my grandma had fresh roses in the house.

I don't think I ever got a chance to eat a fig from this tree.

the birds always got to them first.

but the fragrance of those leaves - I need to get a fig tree.



 

so many of my memories revolve around this pool.

the countless parties.

the floating turtle.

the "cheese board" that we put the kittens on and set them out to sea...

Papa bringing out a year's worth of soda cans so my cousin and I can fill them all and line them around the edge of the pool - I'll have to find a photo to share.

my sister tipping over in her floatie when she was little - legs in the air - and my grandma diving in to the rescue - clothes and all.

standing on my dad's shoulders while he walked to the deep end and back.

our dog, Callie, barking every time we splashed.

marco.

polo.

basketball in the pool.

my grandma and her countless video recordings - if only we could find them and watch them again - she would always try to get us on film while we were in the pool.

the sound of the pool motor and cicadas.

hoping a turkey vulture wouldn't swoop down and eat me.

the smell of chlorine.

spending so much time in the pool your toes go raw - and not even caring.

 

 

 

so I don't know how to say goodbye to 3746 Highcliff.

because when I say goodbye

this home becomes a memory as well.

no longer a place to go home to.

 

hushed tears

it is so hard to catch my breath these days.  life keeps speeding by and i keep grasping at moments.  a long work day today & another trip tomorrow to another funeral has me spinning.  focus and breath.  i've just started reading "this i know:  notes on unraveling the heart" and it has helped me realize it is ok to feel not ok.  to not be "over it" - because i'm not.  i'm hurting right now.  and those little hushed moments are the only thing helping me breathe.  focus.  breathe. and for now, still cry.

and the red birds flew away

death. 

to be next to someone you love.  

someone you have cherished.

to watch their last breath.

it's hard.

i'm blessed.

i was with him.

the whole family was.

a room.

pulsing with life.

cloaked in sadness.

the room was filled with light.

two red birds perched nearby.

waiting.

prayers.  tears.  light.

and one last breath.

his pulse slowed.

there was no more breath.

yet still there was light.

and the red birds still waited.

slowly.

everything was bright.

the room was quiet.

his pulse stopped.

and the red birds flew away.

***

quiet.   moments.  light.  darkness.  heartache.  tears.  reflecting me.

Polaroid:  SX-70, px70 colorshade, expired edition

you'll be missed dear papa.