A breath
Posted on January 18, 2014 by barkyrose

Walking in the woods this morning my dog and I are preceded by the smoky white vapor that escapes from our lungs. The blinding crystal whiteness of the snow intensifies the beauty of our walk. As a child we would make like we were smoking cigarettes in the winter as our breath would freeze just a little as it left our bodies. The trees of my small forest are decorated in the fashion of winter. Mother natures breath has dusted everything in the same frozen crystals. In one amazing breath she has covered the brown nakedness of the trees. A shimmering coat of crystal reflection now carpets the ground. What magic mother natures possesses, the ability to turn a landscape from dreary to invigorating. At 49 I often wish the hands of mother nature would bestow that same seasonal magic upon my person. Let her join me in the journey of my seasons. Let her breathe beauty into my being, offering rejuvenation to my old withered skin. Ah to dream, for unlike the beauty of my woods mother nature has not gifted me with her healing breath. I will each year wither a little more , I will wrinkle and stoop as I continue my journey. It saddens me at times, but in a moment I remind my self that nature travels in seasons . We travel in journeys, I may not have a winter, spring and fall, I will have journeys each starting reborn, re-existed. I will unconsciously carry the ghost of every journey in my heart. The wisdom and love from each journey will be my season. Each journey I will renew in the beauty that is life and faith. Clearing the edge of the woods the sun bounces off the glistening snow blinding me for a moment. Like a slap in the face from mother nature herself I realize in the realm of all that exist there is beauty. I exhale and watch the winters breath dance for seconds in front of my face. I absorb the beauty of this world and start my day rejuvenated by the beauty that is nature………………..Land of Rose

As babies we learn to walk with slow unsteady steps. I am noticing as we age we tend to walk with slow unsteady steps. As babies we are excited to feed ourselves, as we age we just hope we will be able to! Not even touching on the whole issue of diapers ! It seems in life, that the journeys endings bare some resemblance to its beginnings. As babies we learn and build memories, as we age we may loose memories as if cleaning the slate for the steps of the next journey. Much like a babies mind, a clean slate ready to absorb and learn. In the circle of life there are no endings, just journeys. I’m glad you have walked this journey with me ! Land of Rose

Roots
Posted on January 13, 2014 by barkyrose

I had to laugh at my teens, a slow unscheduled Sunday resulted in a Roseann marathon on T.V. My oldest daughter walked into the kitchen informing me that she so gets me and my sister Iris after watching Roseann. Thats where you guys get it from, ha if she only knew. Not just the brazen show of Roseann but others like One day at a Time, strong women breaking old stereo types.Talk about confusion, as little kids we had our Monday night family viewing of Little House on the Prairie. Thursday was the scheduled Walton’s and bed time. No one can forget Lawrence Welk on Sat. The timeless sound of Walt Disney on Sunday night signaling the end of the weekend and start of the work week. My life time memories are a clash of home spun hard working, and no bull shoulders back women. The daring women of Little House on the Prairie standing by their man, soon to be followed by an episode of Maude. Maude was a genetic tie to Roseanne,a cross breed of artistic genetics. I dedicate a second to the Leave it to Beaver world as it never existed in the regions I lived. It was often viewed as more of a comedy. I must admit that the viewing of the Brady bunch left me with many disheartening thoughts. Raised in the country we did not have a large social calendar. Many nights I would listen to the arguments and complaints of my own family. Moments of laughter and sadness all shared, but none lived in anyway like the normal family portrayed on The Brady’s. I can’t describe my internal glee when I got out more and realized just how unreal that show was. The realization that my family was the norm hahahah who would have thought. Decades of change on the old tube challenged my mind and my goals. A woman who not only birthed, but raised me shared many resemblances to the decades of women we adored on the screen. My memories have her dressed in the aprons of many mothers , strong proud and get the job done type ladies. Faith from a catholic back ground taught us to have faith in our heart. Her ability to help those in need and set you straight with a knife like tongue all in a moment taught me empathy. My daughter is right I was molded by generations of talk back, set you straight women. I walk proud if, as a mother and woman I reflect that gift. I can only smile as I see that same light in the eyes of my daughters. Taught not only by the oldies but goodies channels they watch with me, but thru the reflections of the women that came before them. Women that will walk beside them. Women that will write the future scripts of love, fire and wisdom………..Land of Rose

Lavander notes
Posted on January 11, 2014 by barkyrose

She awakes and starts her day like any other, coffee pot brewing with an aroma the would awaken the house. She hurries to the bathroom to be the first in line. She lets the dogs out first, knowing she’ll miss her spot in the bathroom if she waits for them. Perfectly timed she leaves the bathroom as the dogs first bark echoes down the hall calling to be let back in. She plugs in the toaster and sets out two cups and three cereal bowls. She again heads for the bathroom to draw two dark lines under her eyes. For as many years as anyone could remember mascara,ponytail and head band, had been the extent of her makeup regimen. In all the years she could remember this was Mon – Friday. She smiles as she sets the cereal on the counter. Soon the house would awake from the nights silence. In mere moments the house will vibrate with the orchestra that is her families day. She can’t help but smile to herself as she listens for the chorus of dislike at having to attend school and work. Warmth and comfort engulf her as it does most mothers. Mothers live not only for job and social aspirations, but for the joy of watching husband and children grow. Building bridges of loving memories that see you well beyond what your mind can comprehend. For a second she wonders why the chatter and scurry of the morning had not begun. As her hand reaches to retrieve the milk from the fridge her mind in jarred. Heart beat racing she reads what seems to be a note written to herself. Sadness over comes her. In moments her mind resets as her heart breaks just a little. With black ink spelled out on lavender stationary were the words no mother wants to see. Simply stated it was reminding her to take her meds. Reminding her that an affliction had caused her to forget things.Caused her to revisit memories in loo of living in the reality of the day. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked about the kitchen. With shaking hands and tear filled eyes she put one of the two cups away. Her mind now clearly in the reality of the day. Her husband having passed , had not shared a morning coffee with her in nearly ten years. The bowls and cereal could rest again in the cupboard. These would not be needed. The children she had once heard preparing for school now dressed and cared for their own babies. With a deep breath she wipes a tear and looks at the lavender printed note. With what seems to be a moments clarity she ponders. Would it be so bad to stay in the fog of the memories past. Is this affliction an illness or a mind altered comfort zone that will see her thru till she once again shares her morning coffee with him. Is it so important to live in the reality of the day. To live in the minds memories of love and happiness may be as simple as a blessing. Something to see us thru until we again walk with the spirits that now live only in our memories and mind. To some the end of the journey is best walked within the spirits of past. She takes her meds and coffee and head to the porch. Cup in hand she chooses to return to the fog of memories. It is here she chooses at least in heart and mind to complete this journey. She will not write another lavender note, she will rock on her porch swing and return to the memories that comfort and complete her……..Land of Rose

Late
Posted on January 12, 2014 by barkyrose

He was on time! In all the days they had walked this world together he had been late. He had been late the first time they met. She had been a receptionist at a job site he had applied to. He was late and almost passed over were it not for the haunting blue eyes that commanded her mind. After a heart felt tale of rescuing a cat from a tree she allowed him to apply. Their first date was way laid as he had stopped to help an older woman with a flat tire. Late for the birth of not only their first child but for all three that followed. Many times had she looked at her watch and cringed. Thousands of times she had rehearsed the scolding he would receive when he arrived late. Millions of times he was forgiven as those blue eyes looked deep into her soul. Each excuse and cause for being late found him helping one wayward soul or another. To love a man who stopped life and time to help others was beyond description. Long ago she had gladly accepted his lateness along with the fact that he was of the kindest of creatures to walk this earth. A smile crept onto her face as she recalled the boyish grin that always accompanied the explanation of his lateness. She couldn’t help but feel warm inside as she recalled the way his arms would hold and tease her into forgiving his tardiness. A life time engulfed in laughter and love,raising children and of course forgiveness. Today ,why today had he been on time, all those years of love and success , all working well into the life time of missed appointments. No matter what event he had arrived to late he had arrived, blue eyes dancing as he prepared to tickle the lines of fret from her face. Today he had been on time,no one persons run of bad luck or need for assistance had deterred him today. Today his dancing blue eyes would not run inside minutes late with a joke or reasonable excuse for not being there. Today he will not hold her in his arms and love her into a smile and forgiveness. Today he was on time, today he broke her heart . Today in front of them a small child darted in front of a car, running right on time he had stepped in front of the car and shoved the child to the side. She stood awestruck as sirens wailed and a mother cried. In all the years of being late today he had been on time. Eyes closed she saw him in the street, arms wide she held him and watched his last breath. This one time and one time only he had been right on time…………Land of Rose.

Those many years of high school, mandated and time controlled by school bells and home work. That youthful innocence that deceived you. The self righteous declaration that once graduated there would be no home work. No one would dare to tell you what to do with your time ,where to do it and how. I can’t help but laugh as I was one of the many teens that had once uttered those words. The wonderful world of adulthood. No one will tell you how to spend your day. It wasn’t till today that I realized how uninformed with the realities of adult hood that we had been. Today shopping with my teens I was met with the realization that you never escape homework. It follows you throughout life. As children and teens we have homework dictated by teacher and parents. Adults get there dose of homework in the form of manual and dictatorial labor. Math is covered not only when the Friday paycheck arrives but throughout every day as you calculate what you earn and how many other humans are expecting a cut of your wages. Your house hold cleaning whether it be kitchen or bathroom, laundry or cooking becomes the homework after what is normally a ten hour real work day ha-ha. The schedule of your own teens keeps you jumping and driving with the same pace as the class room late bell that still rings in the ears of our child hood memories. Needless to say their is no escape,your job will follow you home and your home will become your job. This is not a sad thing as long as we survive our daily life as we did our high school life. Fill the hallways and classrooms of your adult life with friends. Remember to laugh and occasionally break a rule or show up late. Hold family dear and learn to share from them and with them. Eat your meals with people you like ,exercise and talk with those who share your world. And above all else do your home work !!!………..Land of Rose

We are given 3 things in this world birth, life and death.You are to fill the spaces between.How you fill them ,whether it be with love and laughter or heartache and remorse is up to you.You are the author of the novel that is your existence……….Land of Rose

I miss the childlike anticipation of the holidays. Once I waited up to glimpse Santa, now I am Santa. Once I awoke to open presents with mom and dad, now I call mom on the phone,dad is my angel.I played in the snow yet never got cold, I dreamed of divinity and buckeyes. The whole family came together,I miss once upon a time……… Land of Rose

My garden, like myself is showing the signs of the season. The once beautiful veggies and strong leaves are now withered and bending. Like my face, the seasons end shows harsh reminders of the beauty that once shined there. I like to think me , and my garden have served a pupose. Making people happy, helping them grow, and giving a feeling of comfort. Unlike my garden, I will not emerge from the winters cold new and beautiful on the outside. But I will (as I age ) continue to have that beauty inside. Each day I see more and more that I’ve overlooked. Now I walk slower, look twice and actually listen ! I think of you all more often , and smile !! I hope one day I learn to appreciate the wrinkles as I do the seasons of life that bring them. But I doubt it !!!!            Land of Rose

The warmest colors dot the sunset. But the winds that blow from those warming colors are cold and harsh . It was but nights ago that the bon fire crackled for comfort. Tonight the flames are enjoyed for the heat they share. My beautifully leave covered trees no longer dance with the wind. Tonight they begin to shiver, the winds that were once their partners in dance have stripped them of their leaves. They now stand cold and naked as the mistress of winter echoes with the winds. She is coming , the fall beauty gone. But with the ice and snow comes new beauty . As with all seasons , this is how we grow . Without them there would be no changes, the good and the bad, there would be no life. So build a strong fire, hold close to those you love and face the mistress of winter,till spring takes her place……….. Land of Rose