The Pink House

The Justin Smith Morrill Homestead...my new home away from home!  This place is a little slice of heaven...I think I've almost figured out all of my dream jobs at this point and am well on my way to making a living doing the things I love.  I adore dressing up and curating a Victorian Gothic mansion/museum, it's the most ME thing that I've done so far.  Yesterday it rained, making this place dark, scary and full of spooky noises, but today, the sun shines brightly, gardeners putter on the flower beds, the brook is splashing along outside my windows and the ghosts have melted away.  Earlier, in the cool morning air, I walked the grounds, raised the flags and unlocked the barns.  I took the back path down to the ice house, so I could pass the waterfall and the millstone.  The stone bridge was a bit slippery from moss and mist so I placed my buttoned boots carefully and kept my hand on the keys in my apron pocket.  Lifting my skirts clear of damp ferns, I sniffed the herbs in the garden and felt beyond calm and healthy and content.  I felt like I could finally slow down, take my time.  Listen and look and appreciate.  Every once in a while something falls into place that makes me know, despite the hardships and rush-around from job to job, and daily struggle to make ends meet, that I'm headed in the right direction.  Right now, I'm just about perfectly happy.  Life is good.

All In A Day's Work

If every day was like yesterday, I'd be putting in a 75 hour work week!  Subbed at the school all day, as usual, but then headed to the museum to put in a few more hours, helping to open it up and clean the artifacts, then buzzed back to take pictures of the darling middle schoolers before their semi-formal.  They were so excited and adorable, I thought I'd post a few shots.  

Mother's Day

Dear Mom, thanks for passing down your joy of reading, your inability to hold more than three sips of beer, and your pretty legs. Thanks for all the hugs and the teary talks. Thanks for sneaking into my apartment and doing my laundry yesterday. Thanks for loving me unconditionally and being the one who, our whole lives, did all the behind-the-scenes dirty work, uncomplaining and unrecognized.   Thanks for being so tidy that it offset Dad's slob genes and we girls turned out somewhere in the middle.  Thanks for your weird meals that you apologized for before we even tasted them.  Thanks for holding us close when we were sick and teaching us that kindness matters most of all in life.  Thank you for encouraging us to write and draw and dance and sing and create and for letting us have swings in the house when we were little.  Thanks for taking in your adult daughter and getting her through the roughest time of her life, even when I don't thank you nearly enough for what you do. Thank you for helping me raise my kids and loving them just as much as you loved us. Thanks for calling me your "Emmalou" and "Piglet" and "Butchina" and for being the best mom on earth.  I love you more than I can say.  -Emily    

Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May...