It truly is a wonderful life if you always remember, "play" is the action required to start every great film... including your own

This evening, on his way home from work Hubby stopped at the store (he often does since he does the grocery shopping). I came into the living room to find the television screen full of the start menu of one of our favorite classic films "It's a Wonderful Life". He had cued it up to surprise me. He had found the dvd at the store and bought it.  I wandered into the kitchen to find that he had bought a little advent calendar full of chocolates. I opened the little "window" for December 1st and handed him a chocolate. Then I opened the little "window" for December 2nd and popped that chocolate in my mouth.

A thought... an idea... a concept that's been percolating in the back of my mind this past holiday weekend started bubbling to the surface and taking form in words instead of just feelings and impressions.

I went back to the television with the start menu still up for "It's a Wonderful Life"... the thought continued to take shape.

I went and got my camera and photographed the television (Hubby thought I was a bit odd at this point... but that's normal).

Then I sat down and started playing with the photograph on my computer–letting the words that had bubbled to the surface in my mind come out onto my screen on top of the beautiful graphic from the dvd.

I thought to myself... It truly is a wonderful life. But I have to engage in the process for that wonderfulness to happen. I have to take action. Just like I have to hit the "play" button to enjoy a great dvd, the smallest actions can bring about wonderful and beautiful experiences. Those small actions are like hitting the "play" button of my life, taking me out of "pause" mode or "waiting" mode and making my life story or "film" roll forward one scene or even one frame at a time.

It's the little things that make life rich. Those things rarely cost money and usually don't require a huge amount of planning and preparation. Like when Hubby decided to try his hand at making a homemade cherry pie last Friday. He knows I love cherry pie. And he asked me earlier in the week, "How hard is it to make a cherry pie?" I told him I didn't think it was that involved. He hunted around on the internet and realized it wasn't hard at all. So while I was sleeping in on that lazy post-Thanksgiving morning, he went down to the kitchen and baked a cherry pie... for me. It wasn't elaborate but it was one of the sweetest and most kind gifts of love from him to me.

A homemade cherry pie... a little advent calendar... a classic Christmas movie on dvd... by themselves they aren't much. But when combined with love, they are the things that make up a truly wonderful life.

Together forever

As I worked on this piece I could not make up my mind whether I wanted to add text to it or not. So I decided to do two versions--one without text for prints and canvases to hang on the wall that didn't have a specific theme and one for cards and prints that would be used to celebrate a wedding or anniversary. Works for me!

Both versions available as cards, fine art prints and canvases by clicking here

He knows me so well...

He knows I love pink.
He knows I love pretty boxes wrapped up with ribbons.
He knows I don't care what's inside.
He knows me so well.

Love of Home and Roots of Many Kinds

In honor of Valentine's Day this week, I want to write a post about love in a very different somewhat non-romantic form sans the lace and red hearts.

This week marks the 31st anniversary of my family moving back to the place of my birth from a 7 year hiatus in the state of Colorado, allowing me to reconnect with my roots in the San Francisco Bay Area.

I am very fortunate to be a 4th generation Bay Area native born in the same county as my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandfather. My great-great grandparents had immigrated from Glasgow, Scotland with my great-great grandfather working his way across the American continent from east to west on the railroad as a welder and machinist. When he reached the Bay Area, he knew he'd found his second home because it reminded him so much of his beloved Scotland. I have been to Glasgow as an adult and immediately saw the connections between that wonderful city and San Francisco. I can see why he felt he had arrived "home". That's exactly how I felt when we found Rosehaven Cottage over 7 years ago. It needed a lot of love and hard work but it felt like our home. With all the work we've done both inside and out we've definitely put down some deep roots (photo above was taken just yesterday).

This past weekend the lovely purple heads of the crocus showed themselves in all their glory. They are so low to the ground that they are easy to miss if one doesn't know to look for them. But I always watch for them and then point them out to Hubby when they've bloomed. The rich orangey-yellow of their stamens contrasts so strikingly against the blue-purple of the petals that it always leaves me in awe of how beautiful nature can be. I have learned to love the little surprise gifts that nature provides again and again, year after year.

One reason why we named Rosehaven Cottage with that name is because when we came here we discovered a handful of neglected rosebushes that had been chopped back severely but were not giving up. These old roses are not labeled so I don't really know what variety they are. The most "ancient" looking of the bunch has red blooms like a Mister Lincoln. Then down the fenceline is this lovely pink rose that grows like a climber. It doesn't ever seem to stop producing blooms. No matter what time of year, I can almost always find a pink bud or blossom on it. Right now it has a nice collection of heavy pink blooms that look magical in the February sunlight as it shines on and through the petals of each bloom.

There is something about the smell of spring bulb flowers that is so enchanting and soothing to me. The smell of paperwhites, narcissus, daffodils, and tulips all have a distinct nuance but they all say "spring" to me with all the wonderful feelings that association brings. A couple of years ago, I planted some bulbs in the neighbor's yard across the street along the curb in a patch of land that she was happy to have me volunteer to tend. Each year since, the sweet yellow teacup blossoms have come out heralding the full sun that shines on that patch of ground practically from sun up to sun down. As if they've stepped straight from my favorite Disney animated classic Alice in Wonderland, they remind me that you indeed CAN learn a lot of things from the flowers.

Finally, there are now roots of a different kind that I have grown to cherish and those are my roots that have begun to grow within the blogging community. Like the arrival of the glorious crocus blossoms that I anticipate so much, I anticipate the arrival of each new comment on my blog and each new post from a favorite fellow blogger. As I drink in the essence of each of you the way that I breathe in the aroma of each distinct spring flower, I am rejuvenated and filled with a renewal that is hard to describe but is real and powerful. Just as I can learn a lot of things from the flowers, each of my blogging friends is a flower that I can and do learn a great deal from.

Here are a couple of perfect examples of this very phenomenon. This last week I received the following award from Tristi Pinkston, LDS Author. Tristi is a very talented published writer who I am honored to have reading my blog. In giving this "You Make My Day" award, she made MY day (which had been not too great up to that point). Her thoughtfulness gave me a certain boost into a more positive direction creatively. Thank you Tristi!

Then later in the week I received the "This Blog is Rated E for Excellent" award from Jodi at bloomingwriter. Jodi is another very talented published writer and gardening expert that I admire immensely and am so humbled to have as a friend. Receiving Jodi's award in short succession after receiving the award from Tristi, really gave me a swift kick in the creative can.

Kylee at Our Little Acre commented recently on how technology has facilitated the forming of friendships across the miles that otherwise never would have happened. I remember reading a post last summer from one blogger who talked about how before blogging she felt so alone in her immediate community because none of the other mommies on the playground on play-day understood what it was like to be an artist. It made her feel isolated and alone. Then after she started blogging, she realized she wasn't alone at all. There were many women throughout the world that understood her and were similar to her in so many ways. It's just that those women didn't live in close proximity to her. Without the internet, she never would have connected with them! I can relate so well to that sentiment. And Kylee's too. Because of this wonderful technology, I now have friends around the globe that understand me. I no longer feel isolated like the "odd one" that no one in the neighborhood "gets". Thank you to all of you for making that a reality! I am passing on the two awards above to every one of you because you all deserve them. Thank you for helping me to feel rooted in something real and wonderful.

Mahalo for the Rainbows

I served as the photographer at my cousin's Aloha Open House to celebrate his wedding that occurred in Hawai'i two weeks ago to his beautiful bride.

The couple requested that my shots be candid and not posed so I had a fun and energetic evening taking shots of all the guests just enjoying themselves.

Midway through the wonderful open house, the clouds opened up and rain just poured down. The wind was blowing it sideways at some points. The cloudburst lasted about 15-20 minutes and then the evening sun peeked its face out to reveal a double rainbow in the eastern sky.

Ironically, the wedding card that I had purchased for them was a musical card that had the Hawaiian version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in it. This is my favorite shot from the entire evening. It says so much without any words at all. I know that their marriage has been blessed already and will continue to be blessed for years to come.

I Always Manage To Find A Kitty

I flew out on Saturday (yesterday), got picked up at the other end by my Auntie, and was whisked away to a wedding already in progress that she had missed in order to pick me up (is that love or what?).

Since it was a family friend's wedding and wedding reception, Auntie felt it was perfectly fine for the two of us to drop by on the way back from the airport and let me "crash" the reception. I've never done that before. It was an interesting experience to be formally introduced to everyone by Auntie but really have no connection to anyone at the reception.

We ate a delicious catered meal of good ole' barbecue and then everyone just sat around casually chatting in the outdoor garden setting or dancing on the small dance floor set in the grass. As soon as it was appropriate, I stole away to retrieve my camera from the car so I could take photos.

On the way to the car, I passed by a little red house that matched the main red house belonging to a friend of the bride. Wouldn't you know it? It was a kitty house with kitty snoozing in residence! (see photo at left) I always make it a goal to have at least one kitty encounter a day on my trips, and I was already fulfilling my quota only about an hour or two after having touched down. Is that great or what?!?! So the first photo I took yesterday was of this adorable little tabby. He woke up briefly at the sound of my shutter. I said, "Hi Kitty!" in my kitty-whisperer-falsetto, and then he just went back to sleep. So adorable!

The rest of the photos are some of my favorites that were all taken at the wedding reception I wasn't invited to (it's so weird to even type that right now). The photo at the left is of the gorgeous sky as the sun started going down. If you look at it large you can see a jet coming in for a landing probably along the same flight path I had just been on not two hours before this photo was taken.

I'm uploading and typing all this from Auntie's laptop (thank you Auntie) mostly so I can share all of this with my husband back at home. We're best friends and normally don't travel without the other. It's really hard to have an experience without him there because I want to say, "Oh look at that!" or "Isn't that cute?" So this blog is making that possible in an internet-new-millenium sort of way. The rest of you can enjoy too. We don't mind.

Look closely at the photo at the left. Doesn't it look like an abstract heart?

The centerpieces [photo at right] were all different fruits from gala apples to lemons to limes to oranges to cherries. That's how the tables were called up to the serving line for food--by the type of fruit in the centerpiece. The last fruit to be called was not happy.

The photo above was just so precious. Two of the relatives were having their own little dance in the gazebo that wasn't being used for anything else at the time. It was a tender moment that I'm glad I saw and caught in photographs.
The juxtaposition of the gorgeous autumnal wedding cake with the "hot dog stand" in the background was just priceless! [photo at left]

Something about the images of the barefeet of one of the groom's sisters-in-law [left] and the lemonade stand [right] were charming to me--possibly because of the simplicity they exhibit and the feeling of everything being just fun and celebration without a lot of pretense. No wonder I was welcome to "crash" the party!

My Valentine Balloon Finally Sank

How long is a helium mylar balloon supposed to last?

Is it supposed to continue to float for almost 6 months?

That's how long my Valentine balloon has lasted. It still is hovering over the floor by a little over a foot, but technically it really has sunk.

We've been amazed how long it's lasted. It has floated in the Tiki Room all this time since Valentine's Day. During that time, every time I've come down the stairs in the morning I see it and smile at the reminder of the fun Valentine's Day we had back in February and the cute Valentine's surprises my husband put around the house to make me smile on Valentine's Day morning. That stubborn balloon has made it possible for me to "celebrate" Valentine's Day (a favorite holiday of mine because of the red and pink stuff all around) for almost an entire 6 months! That's been fun for me to experience.

But more importantly, the balloon has been an interesting symbol of why my husband gave it to me in the first place. He gave it to me because he loves me. And the balloon has been unwilling to "die" just as my husband consistently is unwilling to let his love for me wane in the face of the many trials we've faced together during our almost decade of marriage. He, like the stalwart shiny red balloon, has brought a smile to my face daily as he has reminded me of what matters most in life.

And although the Valentine balloon is finally sinking to the ground, my husband remains tall and strong in his obvious devotion to us and our marriage. For that, I love him beyond words.

Living Life in Technicolor

A friend recently shared with me that previous to a recent spiritual journey of self-discovery her life was just going along and then after finding what she'd been looking for suddenly her "world was in technicolor". I realized that what she had just said encapsulated in a few words what I feel my life has been like as of late.

My life and my world here feels as if it's in technicolor.

Yet, there are times when I get so caught up in the whirl of life that I forget to just take a chance to look around and enjoy what I've been blessed with--the "technicolor".

This week has been like that. Then I received an email from my husband who was working from home in his office right next door to my studio (aren't we the "new millenium couple" emailing each other from adjacent bedrooms?). I'm not sure what prompted him to write the email titled "Why I love our home", but it was just what I needed to get myself grounded again in what really matters.

I won't share the entire email here because some is very personal but there were some sweet phrases that I thought I would share.



Why I love our home...

I love the fact that we don’t have residential neighbors in back. We have lots of little critters that use it as a highway and hunting ground.

I love how quiet our street is. With exception of the occasional motorcycle we don’t have a busy street.

I love where we are situated in relation to everything. We are ideally located.

I love how big the lot is. We have the largest backyard I’ve ever lived in and your gardens are always spectacular [even though the back garden is still a work-in-progress].

I love the color. We have a wonderfully light yellow and white house which invokes cheery and happy feelings for the house in which we live.

I love the cracked driveway. It means that we’re not pretentious.

I love the windows. Kitties love the windows too.

I love the studio. You have designed a great place in which to design, build, manage, and enjoy the art that you do.

I have my own office. I love having my own place where I can work; it’s nice that Dee Dee likes to sleep in her little box next to me too.


I'm so grateful that he took the time to write these things down and share them with me. I needed the perspective. I tend to focus so much on what needs to be done that I often forget to look at what is complete and whole just the way it is.

I tend to do that with the back garden. That's why I decided to share some photos of the gardens even though they are still works-in-progress (aren't all gardens really just that anyway????). They're far from where I eventually want them, but in the meantime I've found ways to have little serene meditation areas that I can enjoy right now like my spot under the plum tree by the pond.

And maybe that's the whole trick to this gardening thing anyway!

A Harvest of Love

There is very little else that can give me as much satisfaction as picking a basket of tomatoes straight out of the garden and bringing it inside to surprise my husband like I did today.

He's the tomato lover in the family and can eat them and eat them and eat them. He's the chef in the family so he makes wonderful culinary creations with them. He's also the allergy-sufferer in the family so he isn't able to be outside in our garden nearly as much as he'd like. It also means that he isn't aware of how many tomatoes are actually growing out there--hence the ability for me to surprise him with a brimming basket left on the kitchen counter in his prep area. It's always fun to hear him from the other room, "Oh Honey! Look at these tomatoes!" I know that he'll usually be making up one of his tomato salads with homemade vinaigrette later that evening

This whole ritual of growing tomatoes for my husband started the first spring we lived at Rosehaven Cottage.

We were immersed in remodeling and restoration--drowning in it actually. Our goal was to simply have access to all the square footage in our home, have a decent bathroom and kitchen, and not freeze from the drafts coming in from the spaces in the subfloor.

Early spring rolled around, and I had this overwhelming need to put in a vegetable garden. I was told by many that I was nuts and should just focus on the interior of the house. "Let the garden go this spring," they'd say helpfully, "Don't try to do everything at once."

But the persistent nagging to put in a garden kept coming into my psyche. I know not to ignor these persistent nagging thoughts. So I moved the installation of a vegetable garden up on the priority list (much to the disbelief of family and friends) and put in the first vegetable plants (including tomatoes) as soon as it was safe.

Summer came quickly and the tomatoes were thriving. I had put in Sweet 100's and the vines were burgeoning with the little round red gems of tomato sweetness.

At the same time that the tomatoes were ripening, my husband was struggling with health issues that led him to the doctor's office. On a hunch, the intuitive physician tested my husband's blood sugar right there in the office. It was through the roof. My husband walked out of the doctor's office that day with the diagnosis of being a Type 2 diabetic weighing on him. It would change his life. It explained a great deal of the health struggles he had experienced over the previous 2 years but wasn't any easier to take.

His mother is also a Type 2 diabetic and, fortunately, he had educated himself when she was diagnosed. He knew his diet would have to change drastically. His sweet tooth would have to be satisfied in some other way than the chocolate he was so fond of. But there is one thing that my husband loves more than chocolate--tomatoes!

It was now so clear why I had felt so driven to plant the vegetable garden. That first crop of Sweet 100's was a ray of hope during a very difficult life transition for him. The sweet little "candies" that he could pop in his mouth without guilt or hesitation made the depressing prospect of having diabetes so much easier to cope with. I knew that I had grown them for a very special reason, and it was no fluke that I had known to plant them.

So every year since that first year at Rosehaven Cottage, the tomatoes always go in the garden as soon as it's safe. My husband anxiously awaits the first tomato that is ripe enough to harvest. He's very much like a child waiting for Christmas morning. It's wonderful to watch. And every time I harvest another basketful and leave them on the kitchen counter for him, I feel a deep sense of love for him, for the garden, and for the blessing that tomatoes represent to us.