Back in 2013 I wrote a post about an article I read depicting the traditional lifestyle of Transylavanian hay farmers.  In the article the photographer interviewed a young woman, and what she said has stayed with me all this time. The young woman's name was Maria:

One woman she (Ms. Effendi) photographed, Maria, 23, was pregnant and working in the field when they met. She spoke more English than most villagers and told Ms. Effendi that she and her husband had spent a year in France, where he worked in construction. But she missed their home in the fields, and they returned.

In Maramures, Maria told Ms. Effendi, she has room for activity of the mind. People in France were preoccupied with the daily distractions of urban life, and they didn’t have any room left for “beautiful thoughts.” (A Fairy Tale in Transylvania: NYTimes Lens)

When I consider all of the troubles of our times, the senseless violence, moral confusion, disparity, oppression, inequality, antagonism, hopelessness, etc. I wonder what would happen if we allowed our minds to only dwell on beautiful thoughts.

♥

Spring came in breathtaking splendor at the beginning of May and lasted just two weeks. The pear trees that line our lane looked like brides in white lace. 

 "The soul that does not attach itself solely to the will of God will find neither satisfaction nor sanctification in any other means, however excellent by which it may attempt to gain them. If that which God Himself chooses for you does not content you, from whom do you expect to obtain what you desire?... It is only just, therefore, that the soul that is dissatisfied with the divine action for each present moment should be punished by being unable to find happiness in anything else."
— Fr. Jean-Pierre de Caussade, p. 14 Abandonment to Divine Providence

This week is the first one of the entire year that there are no doctors' appointments on the calendar. YAY!!!  The last few months have been so busy, I don't feel like I have had time to come up for air.
So far, the year has not turned out the way I expected it to, but a very long time ago, I learned to surrender my expectations and turn my heart to the needs of the moment and the well-being of those I love. However, I cannot say with any degree of honesty that I am always content/satisfied with the way things are. But, if I could think beautiful thoughts in the midst of every moment, regardless of what happens within that moment, I can see the result would be, if not "happiness" the way most people define it, then at least peace. 

But, it is by far easier to "count our blessings" than it is to acknowledge that all is blessing. Especially when quite a lot of life involves suffering that is beyond our ability to control.

Our little chicken flock is only two now: Trixie and Henrietta. They are seven years old and still giving us eggs. I love keeping chickens, but I wouldn't do it again unless I lived in the countryside. Rodents have been an annoyingly relentless problem for us for the last year and a half. We have cats, but don't dare let them outside in this busy neighborhood after our dear Mischief was killed by a car a few years ago, when he was just three years old.

One of my favoritest things about springtime is the annual warbler migration. I love bird watching, but the window of opportunity for good viewing is a short one in New England, and I pretty much missed it this year due to family obligations. Still, there are plenty of backyard birds to watch: orioles, house finches, cardinals, hummingbirds, and blue jays. Sometimes, Love sends a golden bird to sing right outside your window.

And the kittens. 🐱 🐱 So much cuteness! Even the word kitten is nice. Rhys and Wyatt are six and a half months old now. Wyatt loves making death defying leaps onto the tops of book cases and playing in the kitchen sink:

We went to Boston on May 5th for the Pugs Take Boston event at Boston Common  It was a gloriously, lovely day with every tree in full blossom.

Elvis had a marvelous time. That's him wearing the red leash, and next to him in the neon yellow harness is a quite famous pug called Mochi . He has his own instagram account, comic strip, and even books. 

We had a lot of fun meeting other pugs and their owners. Afterward, we enjoyed looking at the beautiful architecture of the City.

I loved this house on Beacon Street. There were bluebells growing in front of the basement windows:

And now, only two weeks later, summer has arrived to our backyard. The trees are lushly green and fully leafed out.

We celebrated my baby's twelfth birthday last Thursday! When he was born, he was two pounds heavier than any of my other babies, and my older kids nicknamed him the "Big Show". Now, at twelve, he is nearly six feet tall--the tallest in our family!

Wishing everyone a Beauty-filled week. ♥

Love and roses,
Sue

The woods in New England are cool, dense and earthy, rustling with birds, chipmunks, snakes, rabbits and other small creatures. It is easy to believe that fairies and elves also live here.

I think I saw a fairy the other day. Or maybe it was a hummingbird.

I did see a beaver swimming in the pond. Busy. : )

And sweet, tiny ducklings:

And shy yellow goslings foraging with their mother in the woods:

I believe walking in these woods will heal you, make you better. But, you have to leave your headphones and your thoughts at home. You have to open your ears to woodsong and your eyes to simplicity, and your thoughts to wonder. Then, when you leave the woods, you will be taking something with you: Beauty. Joy. Peace.

"Beauty will save the world." ~Fyodor Dostoevsky

There is no place on Earth I would rather be in any season than here in these haunted woods full of dinosaur tracks, Native American artifacts, brightly feathered birds, wildflowers, and old stone fences.

I went for a walk the other day just after it rained. Everything was cool and green and fragrant and growing, and the birds were each singing their own spring song, and somehow it all blended together beautifully into a rare, perfect, magical moment. Most of the forsythia (and magnolia) blossoms were ruined by snow in early April, but I came upon a lovely golden drift on my walk. And, I saw a neat stone cottage trimmed with lavender paint (I would like to live in a house like that someday). And a hill of pines filled with whispering spirits.

In my prayer book this weekend, the readings were all about love. I was struck anew by the vast difference between God's love and our human notions of love. Perhaps love is not something we can do--not a verb, as we are so fond of thinking. Perhaps Love is Home, "a House with many rooms", "a glorious City", a place to dwell. "In him we live and move and have our being." (Acts 17:28). 

"Evil has not an existence of itself. Its business is destruction. And like physical malignancy, destroying good is its work and scope. Evil is everything that God is not. It is everything that God has not created; evil is distortion to the point of deception...without reality in itself, but rather the absence of that reality which is the good...It can never have any expression of itself except for some form of untruthfulness...

The first lie that the world tells us is that it is a lasting city . . .Once we subscribe, even in small measure, to this deception, all things assume a disproportion. If the world is our lasting city, ipso facto and instanter, our values are changed." ~ Mother Mary Francis (†2006)

Back at home, I watched the birds and brought the piglets outside to play in the sunshine.

Honey loves strawberries. She gets the juice all over her chin, and Blossom helps her tidy-up.

♥♥♥

Books are nice. Knitting is nice. But a walk in the woods on a crisp, early spring day is nicest.
This is one of my favorite trails. I came upon a swan building its nest this morning. Its mate was  far off to the left, keeping watch in the water.

There was such lovely music and activity in this spot, that I had to capture it in motion.

There are piles and piles of basking turtles just now. I think it's neat how they all face in the same direction. They must not like the sun in their eyes.

Here is one of my favorite trees. Chipmunks and other small folk make their homes in the mossy bank along its roots. In midsummer this spot is cool, lush, and green. If I were a wee creature, this is where I would want to live, too.
                                                                                                                                                             

But, a picture cannot show the beauty of the place. You need to see and hear the babbling brook that is just on the other side of the mossy bank.

There were lots of birds: red-winged blackbirds, grackles, gold finches, cardinals, chickadees, nuthatches, titmice, a red-bellied wood pecker, ducks, geese, and cormorants. It was a good day to be a bird--just look at this sky!

Now, it is evening, and I have just made myself a cup of tea and plan to settle in with the novel I am reading:  Evergreen Falls, by Kimberley Freeman.

But, first, Honey wants to say hello and wish you a happy weekend. : )

♥

Oh, March, you are a fickle month. Two weeks ago the temperature reached 78°F/25°C and crocuses and daffodils began to bloom in the sunshine. Today it is snowing.

On Saturday, the kids and I drove up the coast to Gloucester. We packed sandwiches and drinks and had a picnic in the car overlooking the harbor. Then, Seth went shopping at Mystery Train Records and the rest of us set out to explore some of our favorite haunts.

The girls and I were on the hunt for interesting postcards. Since it was St. Joseph's Day, we stopped in at Virgilio's Italian bakery and deli for some delicious zeppole and cannoli and cream-filled "lobster tails". Luke met up with some bears for tea and conversation outside of Toodeloos! toy shop.  You never know what wild creatures you might run into . . .

. . . a fierce lion guarding a red door,

. . . or a beautiful sea siren playing outside of the Cape Ann Museum. I would have liked to go inside the museum to see the quilt exhibit, but there wasn't time.

This old house captured my imagination and made me wonder about the people who have lived there over the last three hundred years and the people who live there still.  Do you remember Anna from my unfinished story, "The Schoolhouse in the Woods"? She was from Newburyport, another Cape Ann harbor town. I imagine that the house her aunt and mother lived in might have looked like this.

We admired the Victorian architecture of Gloucester's Town Hall, built in 1870.

But, my favorite stop was to Coveted Yarn, a huge, friendly shop with an amazing selection of fiber and tools for knitters and crocheters. I purchased some lovely, soft, milk-colored wool for an extra special secret knitting project. Back at home, I put on the tea kettle, settled in with my needles, and cast-on.

In the kitchen, Indiana Jones kept Amy company while she read a new book. 

This morning, the bright skies of spring we enjoyed so much over the weekend were gone. Cold, gray winter has returned, at least for a day. Lots of birds came to visit:  slate colored juncos, house sparrows and finches, black-capped chickadees, and cardinals.

Want to see the snowfall and here the sounds of my house (and my scratchy morning voice)? Here's a tiny video:

Today it is stormy and snowing again--it is very cold (20°F/-7°) and we're expecting up to a foot of new snow --, but yesterday was one of those perfect, bright winter days, so after Mass the kids and I took the opportunity to visit the book shop in Winchester center for a browse. It is one of those lovely, old shops that has been around for decades and offers an impressive assortment of books, stationery and trinkets. I had a gift certificate in my pocket from my birthday and happily came home with a handful of postcards (I am obsessed with postcrossing), a couple of cat bookmarks, and a new novel--it's the one Karen has been reading: Blue Asylum.  Amy also bought a couple of books: These Shallow Graves and Moonlight Over Paris.

After shopping, we took a stroll down Main Street and enjoyed the gorgeous view from the bridge overlooking the Mill Pond as it flows into the Aberjona River, the same river that flows near our house.

Right now I am reading the Russian novel Laurus by Evgenij Vodolazkin. I really like it so far. It contains the sense of a fairy tale or saint story--the very sense that is missing from our experience of modern life. It is a different book, one that is hard to describe. However, I think this short review does an admirable job.

The other day I was thinking about how much I dislike talking (which is weird, I know). It makes friendship difficult because people expect a steady stream of chatter from each other. I don't like saying a bunch of useless crap that I later regret. I prefer to be quiet with nature and with my own thoughts. Why is that so wrong?