09 July 2012


One more week before The Monkey starts Kindergarten.
One more week of slow, lazy days sauntering back and forth
between the house and the studio.
I'll return to work for regular hours once he's back in school.
Outside, the heat is unrelenting.
As scorching as the tears that sting when I think of backpacks and bagged lunches.

Holy hell.
Preschool somehow seems very far away.

Transitions here continue.
Despite the changes, I feel overall lighter.
Something mellow and malleable.
Maybe it's the melting affect of a building fire.
I'll give my all to what I have and, if what I have should still burn,
then give this girl kerosene.
No water for the fighting weary.

I cannot change him.
I will not try.

Summers in the south are heavy anyway.
Storms roll in on the back of a sunlit sky and I know well
sudden shifts in the weather.
Violent storms don't surprise me anymore.

 The garden flowers are crisp and toasted bread brown.
It's pointless to water what is dry beyond quenching.
Instead I look for beauty in the barrenness.
And feed the birds.


It's too hot for boots or blowdryers.
Bubbles blown indoors keep The Monkey busy 
and I let my unruly hair curl onto itself,
mirroring the blessed mess that is my season.

I choose to embrace what comes.

I speak honestly on this blog as I've always felt that
if I'm going through something, others are too.
He doesn't read what I write
and I don't write what I don't openly say.

I've gained an incredible son.
In that, I would change nothing.
My family amazes me.
My job is barely work.
Incredible friends surround me at home and afar
and I am the lucky one.

I can love and I do and I will.
And yes, love, I can also let go.

I am okay.
No season lasts forever.


  1. Last month we had the opportunity to do a little hiking in the forests in Asheville and our guide told us about the hemlocks and how they were all dying in the NC forest due to a bug from Asia. It was sad to hear him speak and see the hemlock limbs bare, but he went on to say that it always frustrated him that his colleagues never mentioned the silver-lining. He said there is a type of mushroom with properties known to stop cancer that grows only in the trunks of dead hemlocks. Who knows but that God struck the hemlocks at a time when what they can offer as a dead thing is much more important than what they could offer alive. The seasons for me these past few years have wavered between desert dust storms and frozen blizzards and I'm just now beginning to see the Spring. It will come, it always does, that's the promise of seasons and until then, we'll let it swelter both inside and out.

  2. i've been where you are.
    somehow we women fare better, are stronger, are more resilient.
    i shall hold you in my heartpocket....

  3. Marcie... Thank you. I love you for sharing that.

    Sweet Miss Fox- Your support both public and private has been a beautiful gift. Thank you.

  4. Very nice piece. Very well said. I too have been in a similar place and know that you will come out the other end of it all a stronger person. As I have said before, tend to the seeds...they are the gift and require your attention. If you do that, all that you have been through and feel now will be for something good.

  5. My Darling J-your words always comfort ME, I am saddened that I never know what to say so eloquently in return. I wish we were next door neighbors so I could give you a squeeze and share a cold bottle or 20.

  6. M- Ah yes. Planting hope with good seeds a la Mumford. :) Thank you for the friendship and for always being a sounding board and secret keeper.

    Genie- I love you dearly. You give me strength.

  7. You are such a beautiful soul Jess.This hits really close to home,and as always,you have an amazing way with words.


  8. I found your blog just today and it is what I needed to read.

    "The garden flowers are crisp and toasted bread brown.
    It's pointless to water what is dry beyond quenching.
    Instead I look for beauty in the barrenness.
    And feed the birds."

    My sister was killed 16 months ago by a drunk driver and last week was yet another hearing during which her attorney called this a 'garden variety DUI'.

    Words hurt and words heal.

    Thank you.

  9. DeeDee- Thank you. Your notes always mean so much. Thinking of you tonight and wishing you your own peace.

    Shirley- I don't know you... but I would hug you hard if I were able. Thank you... <3

  10. Jess, it seems that we are always going through similar battles at the same time. I think that strength and dignity are what we need to hold onto. It sounds as though the two of you are still holding on by a thread. You are in my prayers. As for me, the Mr. cut our rope last week. Hope for something brighter is all that keeps me going. Hugs and love.

  11. As I read in blog world, I find so many wonderful people that open up about their gifts, and their lives. It's a hard one, for you at this moment. A moment that I too have gone through. Be strong my friend, you can overcome it. You have a son that looks up to you, a strong a couragous woman. I may not know you personaly, but I can cope with you. It takes time for the heart to heal, but you are already doing it even if you may not see it. Praying for you, be strong.