I Am Now

A fourth year gardener every bit as proud as I was the first.
The sticky, sweet smell of canning in August.
Willing early morning raspberry picker.
Freezer full of jam (sugar be damned).
No church on Sunday.
Crying at the kitchen sink when things get hectic.
Cursing in the sewing room.
Yelling more than I should.
Missing those worm filled, mud caked summer afternoons of garden weeding.
Watching family room wrestling sessions (and giggling at how we could never beat my Dad either).
Staying up far too late to capture a little quiet, alone time.
Piano Practice on occasion.
Taking risks.
Lover of fabric and yarn.
Maker of songs and well balanced meals.
Reader of bedtime stories and giver of goodnight kisses.
Flowers growing in my yard.
Chocolate cake on my birthday.
Saturday morning cooking shows.
Small family gatherings for the holidays.
Refusing to ever use Sweetheart's Pink dishwashing liquid ever again, but never forgetting it's flavor. (and still cursing like a sailor)


  1. Heather,

    These are wonderful poems!!! I remember wanting to be with you so much that I even would weed with you. I bet your Dad liked that - extra hands!!

    You are from and are going great places...life is quite the journey, isn't it?

    Hope to know where you are in 30 more years...I know it's going to be great.


  2. Great posts! Happy birthday! -S

  3. Looks like maybe we came from different places...but that we are currently heading down a similar path. Life is grand.


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