Spring fire

Ricky has been busy the last few months raking all the dead leftover leavings of winter into a pile.  Sunday was the day for the cremation.  I suppose since ancient times humans have been burning the dead left overs of the winter months in the spring.  Spring fires became symbols of endings and new beginnings.  The old crone of winter gives way to the maiden of spring. The cycle continues, never ending as the world turns us around the circle of the seasons.  I have always looked forward to spring.  I find myself searching under every leaf, looking for new blooms and signs of spring on the way, almost here, hurry up! My heart seeks the joy of the new life emerging around us here in the country. Day by day I notice the subtle changes, I know the sudden bursts of color can't be far away.
My son told me once upon a time, "make the most of the hellos and less of the good-byes."  good advice from child to mother.  The turning of the seasons is a reminder, everything changes. It is futile to hold onto the idea that something will stay the same..a flower, a tree, the weather, the date/time/season, a relationship, a life, on and on and on.  Sometimes we light the bonfire and burn away the old dead left overs, so we can start the new.  Change can be welcome, like the anticipation of spring; or dreaded, like the cold north wind creeping in.  But change will come, there is no denying it.   I may grieve the good-bye to the spring flowers when they leave, but I am assured the spring flowers will return again in their own time. The spring fire serves as a reminder to embrace the turning of the seasons, to honor the sacredness of every stage. We can't have a new beginning without an ending.

The trip

Sooooo...Ricky and I rolled the dice, pulled the trigger, took the plunge...we are taking a BIG trip.
We haven't taken a BIG trip in a few years.  Don't get me wrong, we have taken some awesome trips since we got married, mostly to the Caribbean, to some fabulous island paradise, to lounge by the pool or on the beach and lavish in the womb of an all inclusive resort.  This trip is an Adventure! Ok. maybe not that much of an adventure,  but still a very different travel experience for us as a couple.
We are taking a tour of Scotland and Ireland.  And yes, with a group, in a bus, so we don't have to drive and get lost and circle like we always do when, well, you know. I'm pumped!
Ricky and I both did the 23 and Me DNA testing, and found out we are mostly Irish and English.  We are taking a trip to the Mother land,  The Emerald Isle, the Scottish Highlands.  Our Celtic origins are waiting to be discovered!  Now starts the micro-planning experience.  If you have ever traveled with Ricky you understand.  We are studying our itinerary every night, like avid students, vicariously soaking in every detail.  This trip will be taken in anticipation many times.  Here's to hoping that fate, the weather, good luck, and Lady Fortune will be with us on this adventure.  Off into the yonder we will go adventuring!

Honey Bee and other loves

Sweet Honey Bee came into our lives on February 1, 2015.  We rescued her from the Williamson County Animal Shelter.  I had said 'good bye' to my sweet Charlie in September 2014.  I thought I would need to wait a long while before I was ready for another fur baby, but the loneliness overcame me, and when we went searching that Sunday afternoon, we found our sweetheart in a small kennel, looking oh so sad and forlorn.  I almost missed my chance to adopt her, as another family had their eye on her also.  But as fate would have it, I had her in my arms when they showed up that day.  I just couldn't let her go, so she became our Honey Bee.  She is sometimes naughty and sometimes nice. She hardly ever chews on anything now, after chewing up various and sundry items at the outset.  She  is sometimes very stubborn.  When she puts her head down and refuses to make eye contact, watch out!  Most likely, she is planning to make a run for the creek or down the road, instead of coming to the house when called.  She loves bacon, oinkies, cheese, and eggs...not so much dog food.
Ricky and I, and Hondo and Honey Bee share this beautiful life on Oatmeal Creek.  We have adventures together in the Ranger, work in the yard and garden, go swimming in the creek, and enjoy the views from the back porch together.  Hondo and Honey Bee play 'Tag, You're It" when the fancy strikes them.  Smiles and tummy rubs are the events of the day.
There was a time in my life when I despaired of ever feeling content.  When loved ones died, and Charlie died, when my mother died,  loneliness seemed my lot.  Don't get me wrong, I miss my loved ones, sometimes the pain takes my breathe..the deaths and near misses.  But the gentle life here in this beautiful place, with love surrounding me,  has nurtured the contentment to grow.  I'm not sure I have ever felt content before, my life has been marked more by a restless spirit.  Now, in my later life, I welcome contentment and gentle days that have blossomed on Oatmeal Creek.  

Home

Ricky and I moved to Oatmeal Creek 15 months ago.  Hondo and Honey Bee joined us on our adventure here.  In our time here on the creek bank, this beautiful place has graced our lives in numerous ways.  Hondo would rather be in the cold, clear, spring fed water of Oatmeal Creek than anywhere on earth.  He has gladly made this his home.  Home, a special word that brings to mind thoughts of comfort, safety, memories, warmth, family, mother, and love.  Home is where we long to be, the place we spend our lives hunting for or returning to find the same or changed, or maybe gone.
Oatmeal Creek is my home with Ricky, Hondo, and Honey Bee.  We are making memories here with our children, our grandchildren, our pets, and all the wonderfulness of nature that lives here. This was home to another family before it became our home...I continue to be grateful for them and the nurture they gave this place.
San Angelo still seems like home in many ways;  so many poignant memories there, family, friends, a wedding, and a career completed.  My baby girl, my sister, my brother, my house that used to be our home.  The big red oak tree in the front yard that greets me on every return.  I can't get the years back, things change, people leave, never to return. I love home on Oatmeal Creek.  I cherish home in San Angelo.  It's ok to be lucky enough to have two homes.  My past is there, my current and future is here.  Sometimes I am caught in between.  Like Hondo, the pure water of Oatmeal Creek washes over me and flows on down stream to the South San Gabriel and out to sea, like time washing over my soul, sweeping my memories out to eternity, painting the water color of my life. "There is no place like home."

Birthdays and somedays

Today we celebrated my grandson's birthday.  Jacques turned 8 on February 8th, but celebrated today over a pile of donuts with family and friends gathered round.  Eight years....the days are long, but the years are short. Where did the last 8 years go? Note to self:  don't wait for someday. Cherish and embrace today.

A blog for reflections and musings in later life, from Oatmeal Creek and beyond.