44 of 52 :: portraits of the boys

Oh those boys and their Halloween grins (though you can't see the oldest's face, I am just sure he is smiling as well). 

xxoo

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one | november writes :: first

first born of a first born. born in a whitewashed blizzard deep in the dark of night. in the heart of december, from the cold paned windows I blew my first breath. there in the first buds of a life not yet lived, the mountains met me and somewhere across the winter white plains, they grabbed my heart. those mountains, purple bones in the setting sun, strung together my first sentence, held me up as i learned to first walk, dried my tears with their blankets of aspen, held my hand when i first felt fear. from them, i learned that there are gifts in this world that can be at once so beautiful and so cruel.  they stamped onto my skin something intangible.  made me into a lover of words, a keeper of memories, a mother of children; a desire to be all these things, melded together, holding together, the shape of this soul of mine.

        i rise at first light. in one hand i hold my coffee, swirling steam of the roasted beans; in my other hand i hold the bucket that fills heavy with these things: the books, the beans, the words, the oils, the camera capture, the boys, my children, my life.

                 the list goes on.

                                     yet, however the rivers run through the mountains of my heart, my children are always first, and i know they always will be. they sit upon the great divide, high above all else; they run their course, ever faster and stronger; and me, running along side of them, just for now; trying to hold onto the the knowledge that, one day, I will not always be their first. those first apron strings that once wrapped them up, will unfold and fly into the wind as a child's first lost balloon.

so i wake each day, walking a path that is a constant unknown, one that is always misshapen, cracked in the crooks of the road from the wheels of our travel and the bare boned love I have for them, that is always first.

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xxoo

linking up with amanda and write alm. excuse the rambling. 

friday | fodder + folly

follies of the week::

-ruminating on things that I can't change
-giving into the desire to crawl back into bed (for all the wrong reasons)
-letting the worries of the night negatively impact my thoughts during the day
-circling around and around and never settling on in
-grasping on too tightly (again)

fodder for the soul::
-writing a bit on something silly (found here)
-receiving a guest post for the school ready series from this lovely lady
(look for it next week! -it is fabulous!!)
-the first of November & semi-fall weather
-working on the oldest's Halloween costume

-a lovely Halloween with my merry men (photos tomorrow)

provender for the days ahead::
-canning
-reading aloud Wildwood to the boys
-reading this just for me
-November Prompt-A-Day with WriteAlm
(won't you join too? photography, journaling, sketching
and/or writing. I think there are treats, not tricks, for participating!)
-organizing crafts for the Holidays that will soon be upon us
-intentional quiet time

This is a friday series called fodder+folly. You are welcome to write along if you want, just leave a comment with your blog address if you decide to write one and I will be sure to come say hello. Would love if you "wrote along!"

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