
Sunshine picture of my backyard
Morning light is magical and so so good
Brisk out there
April 24, 2023
Sunshine picture of my backyard
Morning light is magical and so so good
Brisk out there
April 24, 2023
Panzer pawing at the window to get Blue’s attention. For the first time ever, didn’t work. Blue did sit up when he spied a squirrel hopping through a neighbor’s yard. Sitting here awhile longer as the breeze blows.
April 27, 2018
Blue and I sat in the backyard sunshine this morning after both boys left for school. I took some still photos of Blue looking left and then right, assessing, protecting, for this is his turf. The birds serenaded as the cool breeze blew making the wind-chimes chime. I made this video to save and share this moment in time. Blue is slowing down, eating less and sleeping more. We are staying in our own yard instead of walking sidewalk paths we both know by heart. Thankful for each day, especially quiet moments such as this.
April 25, 2018
The birds serenaded Blue and I on our early morning walk. Thankfully the pouring rain from earlier had stopped, though we’d have walked anyway. Enjoying breakfast now and some quiet time before the boys wake up. I love being their mom. My oldest son gave me my Mother’s Day gift early by going to the Good Friday artist reception and service in April. My younger son wrote me a poem that I’m not supposed to know about, but I saw the rough draft on accident while looking for his weekly report. Since he was out sick three days last week his awesome teacher sent it home with Friday’s homework with a post-it, “For Andrew’s Eyes Only :-)” I didn’t peek! Hope everyone I know has a blessed day filled with abundant love that overflows. Hug each other close. I had no idea how much my parents loved me until I became a mom. I get it now. Love that knows no bounds.
May 10, 2015
It happened again just now. A silver pest control truck slowed down and a silver haired mustachioed man said, “THAT is a beautiful dog.” I said, “Thank you” with a smile and he drove on. I turned to Blue, standing beside me in the driveway, and told him he is handsome. Traffic stopping handsome even. He’s a sweet one too. My faithful canine companion. Woof.
April 16, 2015
Zzzz’ing dog.
Zzzz’ing children.
Quiet house.
Except for the clock ticking.
A sound I sorta like.
Soothing.
April 19, 2014
10:27pm
Working at my art table this morning.
Making two pieces of art for the Good Friday art show next Friday.
Grabbed a stack of brushes and saw my maiden name written on one.
It’s a 25 year old brush from my freshman year in college.
Still usable.
Happy and a little weepy all rolled into one.
I’m going to paint a sky now.
A blue one.
I knew the title of the piece before it was begun.
“Rebuild”
I am.
With paper, paint, scissors and glue.
And love, hugs, laughter, ice cream, tears and lots of help from my family and friends.
It all swirls together.
Life and art.
April 10, 2014
Sitting on the back patio now. In the shade to avoid sun glare on my laptop screen. Have the wind in my hair – a l’il breezy but overall not bad. My dog is keeping me company and my youngest son just joined me. I’d summoned him out of doors to have a conversation – about cussing…because he said if he could cuss it’d let some of his mad out. I hear that! So much like his mama the way he slams doors, stomps and grr’s. I call him my grizzly bear cub and sign notes to him, “Grizzly Bear Mama.”
April 14, 2013
excerpt from personal email correspondance
I hope. Hope never leaves. Hope endures and abides and remains. Hope also sustains.
First written within an email reply on April 11, 2013, after a HOPE FULL conversation at Art Circle a few hours before.
I’m in the midst of typesettin’ two more of my grandfather’s Western Tales. Yesterday I caught myself readin’ instead of movin’ fast, flowin’ type, applyin’ style sheets, and fixin’ up his wonderful words for bein’ self published and bound into yet another family and friends book. Perhaps his last, as at 97, we know his body is wearin’ out.
Certain phrases and plot twist moments, keep jumping off my computer screen as I work, that make me grin and guffaw. Then there are others that make my heart squeeze in empathy.
The line of dialogue speaking to me right now is after the sheriff received a letter from concerned parents, asking after their hastily married off daughter who was sent away, “in trouble.” Instead of replying that she’d had her baby, and a few days later her worthless, no good varmint, rat of a husband was dead – murdered – Sheriff Wells simply said where they could reach their daughter. His mentor, John Wade, replied after readin’ the communique in progress, “Good shot. Let her tell her own story.”
Indeed. Yes. The other bit of advice I keep readin’ is to keep your head up high, no matter what the circumstances in your life. Lots of horse talk too. How I love that!
I’m completely charmed by my grandfather’s writing. Stories. Songs. Poetry. I have been since childhood. It’s more poignant now. Readin’ with a woman’s heart.
He’s a marvel. Still alive and kickin’, atop a bluff overlookin’ the mighty Mississippi River where he’s lived since he was nine months old, other than those years he was needed to serve his country in WWII. He began writing stories while recovering from night patrol injuries in a hospital in England. The Red Cross gave him paper. He mailed the stories home. All because he’d read everything he could get his hands on, and figured he could do as well or better. Once he started writing, he never stopped. That is a lesson for me, and all the aspiring authors I know. Writers write. A lot.
~ Janean Marie Thompson Baird
April 10, 2013
Quote from, “The Invincible Three” by Erwin A. Thompson.