June 1st. Our Life In Transition

Often, actually every year, I wonder if I disturb our farmhouse's established  routine.  I'm home in the Summertime. It's quite a luxury, being here, without the rush.  I wander, work, talk to Peter, talk to the cats, drink coffee, look at the blue-blue sky.  It's so green outside.  We have had perfect weather.  The lilacs are in bloom, and smell so heavenly.The plants are jumping out their seed trays.  I check on them every morning, afternoon, night.  I love every one of them.   I dream of what they'll become.

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I continue to write every day without any false starts.  Yesterday, I finished my sixth lyric essay called "Pin-points."  There is an essay I want to write, have wanted to write for over a year, but haven't figured it out. Not yet, at least.  It's actually a mundane topic that has its ritual. The ritual is what makes me dreamy.
I get lost in thought whenever I'm  doing this particular chore.  It's a metaphor for our life here on Red Rooster Farm.


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Happy News: 

Two of  my recently written lyric essays, "Surrender" and "Worn Shoes" have been accepted for publication.
This feels like a warm embrace, a kiss on both cheeks; I am so grateful to these editors, for giving my work a
gallery.