Me and my shadows...

Like the wallpaper sticks to the wall
Like the seashore clings to the sea
Like you'll never get rid of your shadow
You'll never get rid of me

Let all the others fight and fuss
Whatever happens, we've got us.

 

I haven't been on my bike in quite some time, not for a real ride anyway.  Yeah, I go for an occassional ride through the neighborhood with the kids, but I haven't been on one of those long rides that make me feel like I've really accomplished something.

All three of my kiddos have taken their turn on the back of my bike.  The timing was quite perfect actually.  Just as one was getting too big for the seat on the back of my bike and onto their own pedal-powered ride, the next was ready to take their place.  My third, however, probably racked up the most mileage along the way.  She is the one with me in the photo above.  We were riding on a neighborhood trail around sunset when I snapped this shot.  

I have fond memories of riding with my shadows.  Many miles of songs that have been sung, ABCs that have been learned, trees and flowers that have been identified, animals that have been greeted, raindrops that have been felt.  All while pedaling away.

All three of my shadows are now too big for the back of my bike.  In fact, the bike seat is long gone with the last yard sale.  But even though they are not riding right behind me, I still remind myself that they are my shadows.  Good or bad, they are mirroring my movements.  I hope more good than bad.  It's difficult to tell sometimes as they get older, but tonight was reassuring.

My older daughter says, "I really love you, and I don't want anything this time!" 

My look tells her I'm not so sure. 

"No really," she says, "all my friends complain about their parents and I tell them all the time I really like my mine." 

Not bad for year thirteen - I'll take it!

Me and my shadow...
...Not a soul can bust this team in two
We stick together like glue

Google Gardener

I'm not sure of the attraction but I'm fascinated with photos of people's feet.  I really don't even like feet to be perfectly honest especially adult bare feet, kiddos are ok.  Of course all photos have a story to tell, but I think it's the mystery of only seeing the subject's feet that draws me in to the story of these shots.  The photo leaves the viewer guessing - what does the person look like?  is this person a man, woman, boy or girl?  I wonder what they are doing?  Sometimes those questions can be easily answered, other times not.  I won't leave you guessing on this one; here's the story behind this shot...

Almost seven years ago, my husband and I trekked our family across a couple of states for his new job.  It was a move that we were excited about and one that we thought was part of our family plan.  We left behind a nice home sitting on almost two acres.  Our new location greeted us with a townhome on .04 acres.  We told ourselves it was temporary and that we would love our new yard-maintenance free living.  Let's just say the honeymoon period didn't last long.  We missed our space.  I was never really much of gardener but now that I couldn't...  Well, we all know how that goes.

A little over two years ago, we moved from that townhome to a home with not just a yard, but a well manicured and thriving yard!  As I sit now in my sunroom with more windows than walls, I can see more types of trees and vegetation than I can count.  Recently, I have been moving some plants around and adding some different varieties here and there.  Most of my plant knowledge comes from Google with a dash of Southern Living thrown in for good measure.  I am in no way any kind of gardening guru but I am loving my yard!  Today was one of those days when the weeds were calling my name.  "Pull me, pull me," they were saying.  So I did.  In the process, I stopped to survey my work, looked up and saw my reflection in the glass storm door.  My mind instantly said, "What a perfect shot!  Garden feet!"  Camera came out, tripod went up and timer was set - click - Google Gardener.

The Three Trees

If you haven't read the traditional folktale The Tale of Three Trees, I highly recommend it.  It is especially appropriate for this time of year.  Folktales intrigue me not only for their age old stories but for the information that can be gleaned regarding their creators.  I am most amazed that these stories have survived since before the age of the written word.  Oral tradition it is called - seems like a lost art, but I really don't think it is.  We all have a little storyteller in us.

I think back to my grandmother who told me stories not from books but from her memory.  I absolutely loved it.  The most memorable was the now controversial, "Little Black Sambo." I'm often reminded of her telling me the story when I'm spreading yummy butter on a stack of pancakes!  I have shared the same story with my little one pictured above.  Sharing it with her and hearing her say, "Tell me another one!" put a smile on my face - oral tradition, passing stories from generation to generation by word of mouth.

This week I accomplished triple tree perfection in my yard.  My three favorite trees are the Cherry Blossom, the Dogwood, and the graceful Weeping Willow. When we moved into our forty year old house, the yard already had two of these wonderful trees.  This week, I added a tall, lanky, young Weeping Willow.  Of course, it doesn't compare to the one pictured above but maybe one day.  As I was digging the hole for my new tree, I thought about my three children and maybe one day sitting in the shade of a my much bigger and older Weeping Willow with my children's children.  I will tell them a story about their mom or their dad or maybe even Little Black Sambo.  Oral tradition...