"I am a part of all that I have met, yet all experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untraveled world whose margins fades forever when I move." by Kristina Caswell-MacMullen

It is 1:00 am in Michigan. I left my bed and came back downstairs because I couldn't sleep, the reason for which is actually amazing and wonderful. This glorious insomnia predicated with the names of Kristina Macmullen, Scot Hanna-Weir, Darin Deweese, Mary Hoffmeister and at least one hundred of my dearest colleagues and God given acquaintances who have punctuated my career prevent me from drifting off to sleep. I cozy up in my chair downstairs with my lap top to gather and put my thoughts in order, check my facebook to find YOU and YOUR words, "I am a part of all that I have met!....." I can't even begin to find the words to rationalize this obvious gift in my human reality. Again our journeys cross each other's path as directed by God. Peace & Love!

"Fan-tas-tic" Times

August (age four, not month eight) has been truly amazing these past ten days. Mom and brother come home late Wednesday night and return to Pittsburgh on Friday. I have a totally new understanding and appreciation of my daughter's day nurturing August AND Cooper. August has the ability to examine and assess the moments of every day and every event. I feel a bit like I am living in a home grown Museum of Natural History, surrounded by chickens, a frog, spiders, flies (August can pick up a living fly off the window with his fingers to feed to his frog., not to mention artifacts and exhibits. Thank God he goes to sleep (later than his normal routine) after a book, the "million eyes" prayer (which intrigues him with its metaphoric stars) and a couple choruses of "East Side West SIde" because, as he shyly smiles and says, "I like to sing "trip the light fan-tas-tic"! Good night grammy.

Sea of Green

The fields were so very thirsty for so very long, but now they have had a tall drink of water and overnight it seems like the corn plants have stretched out their leaves to cover the rows of soil between as if to keep the moisture from escaping back to the atmosphere. It must feel good to be a corn plant right now, to wiggle its rooty toes around in the cool wet dirt. Bring on the sun and watch the fields turn into a sea of green.