--Anonymous
Thursday, December 31, 2009
The Last Rose of the Year
--Anonymous
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Lights, Pretty
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Nolo Me Tangere
Monday, December 28, 2009
Are We There Yet? Are We There Yet? Are We There Yet?
Friday, December 25, 2009
Tallulah-Palooza Friday
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tick Tock
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Birds {Comma} Perching
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Beam Me Up, Stanley
Monday, December 14, 2009
Glitter, Glue, Goods
Friday, December 11, 2009
Tallulah-Palooza Friday
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sepia
Monday, December 7, 2009
How Bunny
Friday, December 4, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Camouflage
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
An Unbelievable Botanical Specimen
BTW: this is my 700th blog post. Wow! It continues to be a pleasure to pick out some little something from my life and share it here, and it's been wonderful to make a bunch of bloggy friends--you know who you are! Hey, y'all--thanks ever so much for stopping by!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Tallulah-Palooza Friday
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Gratitude
This has not been the best year for my family--far from it--but I am grateful today for so very much (more than I could ever put into words, certainly). While I miss those who are not with us today, I do cherish the happy memories I have of other days spent together. Here are two quotes from Henry David Thoreau...I think they're both quite lovely.
Have no mean hours, but be grateful for every hour, and accept what it brings. The reality will make any sincere record respectable. No day will have been wholly misspent if one sincere, thoughtful page has been written. Let the daily tide leave some deposit on these pages, as it leaves sand and shells on the shore. So much increase of terra firma. This may be a calendar of the ebbs and flows of the soul; and on these sheets as a beach, the waves may cast up pearls and seaweed.
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I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite—only a sense of existence. My breath is sweet to me. O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession, but enjoyment. If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs—is more elastic, starry, and immortal—that is your success.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Fruit-Picking Road Trip Part Three
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