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Be sure to stop by my author page from time to time

In the meantime, while you're here, pull up a chair, pour yourself a cup of coffee or a cuppa tea, have a piece of pie and always feel free to speak your mind, and your heart, here at Meanderings and Muses.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Annabelle Barley


We drove to Zebulon today for a little visit with Annabelle and her family.



She's not quite ready to come home with us yet - but, soon!


In the meantime, enjoy a few pictures of her, her siblings and the rest of the family.

We Love Love Love
Judy Bolin and Carlins Kennels


























































































Thursday, January 12, 2017

Looking for beauty




One of the chapters in Will Schwalbe's "Books for Living," is A Journey Around My Room. 

Mr. Schwalbe tells us about Lin Yutang, who he talks about a great deal, and his theories about "false travel." 

It's interesting. 

I did not agree with all of Lin Yutang's thoughts and feelings, but it was interesting reading. (I have some serious issues with anyone who thinks taking pictures inhibits one's ability to actually see and feel the travel experience. While it may inhibit some people's ability, I will argue to the death that it will inhibit everyone. Another topic for another day). 

Lin Yutang was a fan of a book written in 1790 by a French officer, Xavier de Maistre, sentenced to house arrest. 

During this period, Mr. de Maistre wrote "A Journey Around My Room" in which he visited with his belongings. 

I mentioned at Facebook yesterday how I felt the need for a little beauty in my life after listening to all the political nastiness. And I decided to take my own journey about our home. 

I visited with the artwork that covers our walls. 

Picked up bits and nibs of this and that - pieces of pottery, glassware, seashells, etc. that are crowding the tabletops and shelves. 

I pulled out a few much loved books just to reacquaint myself with why a certain book lives here.

I'm able to recall for almost every single thing in this house where it came from and why (I am puzzled, I admit, as to where the plastic Woody from Toy Store came from and why he's living here, but hey, he seems happy, so here he'll stay). 

The memories are often much more than the object. 

And they are, to us, beautiful. 

It's often said that homes are a reflection of the occupants. 

I believe this. 

And I believe that's as it should be. 

The fact that our little house is a jumble of mismatched stuff to the point of overflow probably speaks loudly (oftentimes too loudly) to our friends and family who come visit. 

I'm sure it's not a decorating style many would find to be the right decorating style for them, as there is no real "style" involved. 

But it was the perfect amount of beauty that my soul was in need of yesterday. 

This little nest of ours will be a refuge for the next four years. 

I'm thankful to have it. 

We will continue feathering it with bits and nibs and each of those small things will help block the ugliness while still allowing the light to shine through. 

We find our own beauty, don't we?


Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Barack Obama



photo from Michelle Obama's Facebook page

8 years. 
No scandals. 
No mistresses. 
No impeachment hearings. 
Just class and grace, personified.

Feeling the need for some beauty in my life after these last several hours. Recent reports and allegations of political events have me feeling as though I'm in need of a bath to help wash away the filth. No shower jokes necessary - we've done those. And I laughed as hard as anyone. Now? Now I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to manage to live with this much anger. HOW did we go from the grace of the Obama family to the disgrace of what's to follow?

click here for the full text and video of President Obama's Farewell Address (courtesy of The New York Times)

Sunday, January 8, 2017

"Oh, Kaye!"


Hi, all!

I'm at Jungle Red today and I'm chatting about  . . . 




books!



Do drop by and say "Hey!"


http://www.jungleredwriters.com/



Saturday, January 7, 2017

First Snow




The snow
began here
this morning and all day
continued, its white
rhetoric everywhere
calling us back to why, how,
whence such beauty and what
the meaning; such
an oracular fever! flowing
past windows, an energy it seemed
would never ebb, never settle
less than lovely! and only now,
deep into night,
it has finally ended.
The silence
is immense,
and the heavens still hold
a million candles, nowhere
the familiar things:
stars, the moon,
the darkness we expect
and nightly turn from. Trees
glitter like castles
of ribbons, the broad fields
smolder with light, a passing
creekbed lies
heaped with shining hills;
and though the questions
that have assailed us all day
remain — not a single
answer has been found –
walking out now
into the silence and the light
under the trees,
and through the fields,
feels like one.
–Mary Oliver ©