Fiona and Twig

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Update on My Mama

{ my mama }

Those of you who are my Facebook friends have followed along

this past week, and have so generously offered

your prayers and kind words...you have no idea at all how much

comfort we have derived from these, so thank you and bless you all.

I have run the entire gamut of emotions the past few days...

fear, panic, grief, anxiety, confusion, compassion, gratitude,

and ultimately...hope.

She is scheduled for surgery Tuesday.

This is no minor thing, and she is extremely fragile.
There are no promises or guarantees,
but it's the best option we have.

I'm struggling to stay strong, but stay strong I must. She needs this from me.

So, please...if I could ask...

continue to pray.

With much, much love,

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

A Grateful Heart

There are no words to express

how grateful I am for each and every one of you,

for your kindness with regards to my mother.

I am traveling in unfamiliar territory these days,

and so many of you have offered a prayer,

a kind word, and have just let me know that you understand.

It's a lot less frightening when you know that you're not alone.

It means so much to me, more than you know,

and I will be slowly but surely making my way over

to say thank you to all of you very soon.

Until then,

Monday, August 22, 2011

The Circle

I've been pondering the circle of life of late...

the seasons we pass through, the ages and stages

and milestones which mark and imprint our lives.

I am part of what some have labeled the sandwich generation...

that age where we are raising children, and simultaneously

starting to worry about aging parents.

Well, yeah...
if we had ever been able to actually have kids, I suppose.
That ship has sailed.

But the age remains the same,

and the aging parents thing is looming large.

Objects in my rearview mirror are most definitely

larger than life, and approaching with what feels

like breakneck speed.

What if I'm not ready for them, though? The changes.

"la,la,la, I can't hear you" only works for so long, you know.

There is a beauty to the changing of the seasons,

to newness and rebirth, but a hesitancy and a denial almost

of what must precede it...

there has to be a Good Friday

before an Easter Sunday, after all.

A constant theme of late is the passage of time,

the ruthless, mercenary, onward march of life...

Days into weeks,

youth into middle age,

the cared for becoming the caretaker.
Cruel and inevitable, as day passes into night.

My faith has been shelved of late, but it's time to retrieve it.
The journey demands it,
and I can't see myself
navigating these waters without it...

not with any degree of success, or...peace.

"Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day.
In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety..."

Yeah, God.
I give a hearty amen to all of that, but always feel that last part
is aimed squarely at me.

And so the wheels turn.
Slowly, steadily, fatefully.
The circle is formed, and a new season begins.

P.S.
please keep my mom in your prayers

Sunday, August 21, 2011

"New and Improved"?

Originally posted August, 2009

I recently scored an absolutely amazing vintage china cabinet

at a local flea market...to say I got it for a song would be a gross understatement.

It was such a steal that I even felt a momentary twinge of guilt

as I loaded up my treasure, knowing full well that what I got for a mere $85(!)

was going for upwards of $600 just a few blocks away at the chi-chi antique stores in town.

Upon getting it home and placing it in the kitchen corner,

I began to fill my newfound gem with wedding china and household wares

procured two years ago, but heretofore unpacked.

Hooray, I thought!

At last, a fitting showcase for my shiny, new Calphalon,

my glistening Corningware, my sparkling ivory Mikasa.

The new juxtaposed against the old,

the timeless contrasting sharply with the transient.

Would my designer label china have looked any more elegant

displayed in a modern, new Ethan Allen piece?

Some might say yes.

But like so many of you, the inherent beauty in what others

might perceive as junk is this:
my chippy, peeling, flea-market find has lived a life.
Not to anthropomorphize, but it has tales to tell.

Each chip, each dent, each coffee-stain ring speaks to an existence

foreign to my own, yet strangely similar.

Utilitarian practicality is now sharing the stage with stylistic functionality,
but to us junkers, the beauty has always been evident,

even if Farmer Jones and the Missus might not have fully

recognized it before relegating it to the storage shed.

Yes, my pristine Mikasa serving pieces

have a resplendence all their own,

but they have yet to live a life.

They still have much to learn from the wisened old veteran

which provides them harborage.

I'm hoping they will confer, as we would all be wise to do

in our own small corners of the world, be they kitchen or otherwise.

*** this is a re-post from August 2009***

Friday, August 19, 2011

Real

Time.

It passes so quickly these days,
so very quickly.

I often just sit and wonder...
ponder...over what has become of the day,

and how it is that I was able

to get so very little accomplished.

I met someone this morning, at my monthly haunt...

Fredericksburg Trade Days...a really lovely lady who recognized

me from my blog, and we chatted a bit.

She told me that one thing people really respond to

is that I always strive to keep things real here on the blog.

I try.

But it's hard to keep it real,

when things seem to be unraveling.

I'm dealing with some medical "stuff" right now,

and it's not my first instinct to open up

and share everything...even though that
would be the "real" thing to do.

No, I want to keep it all very close to my chest,

and shut you all out.
Bolt the door and hang up a "closed" sign.

But I won't do that.

Still...I need y'all to understand.

I need y'all to rally 'round and tell me that this too shall pass.

Even though I won't share just exactly what it is that

I'm dealing with.

Even keeping it real has its limits.

Just know that it isn't life or death.

It's a cross to bear, albeit a much smaller one

than many of you carry every single day.

For today,

the one "real" thing I know is that

I love y'all.

Happy Weekend.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Entry Way Table and an Anniversary

This week is crazy.

CRAZY.

So I did what I always do when the crazy starts

to set in....

I staged a photo shoot!

Not re-inventing the wheel here, decorating-wise.
I just have a plethora of vintage suitcases,
and I knew I wanted to use a few in the entry hallway as a table of sorts.
I'll probably add one or two more when I find just the right ones.

The farmhouse is still very much a work-in-progress.

Next to nothing hung on the walls,

and still living out of boxes.

If anyone with any extra free time wants to volunteer

to come on down and help me get the place finished up,

then I have an extra bedroom with your name on it. Seriously.

I picked up the light colored top suitcase from

Peg of French Vanilla at City Wide Garage Sale this past weekend,
and inadvertently made off with two of her light fixtures tucked inside!

We have plans to hook up this Friday

so that I can return my stolen loot.
Darn, I almost got away with it!

In addition to doing in-house photo shoots,
I'm also struggling to get an article written.
Struggling would actually be an understatement.

I'm working on a piece for a publication
which has to remain nameless for now,
and the words simply will not come.

The irony in all of this is that way back in the day,
I was working towards getting a degree in journalism.
Writing was my thing, and it was the one thing I believed I
was consistently good at.

But since shifting my artistic focus towards photography,
I feel like my writing ability has gone pffffft.
It's incredibly frustrating, especially when one is working
under the constraints of a deadline.
Please wish me well!!!

Oh, and TODAY marks my second anniversary of blogging!
Happy Blogiversary to Me!

Have a lovely evening!