Coming Clean

Hi.

My name is Jacquie. I am a sporadic blogger.

It has been almost 3 months since my last fix..... I mean.... uh, since my last blog post..... 

 

Wow!  Time has really gotten buried under a lot of cashmere cats, fabulous Christmas customers, and the quiet hush of another year's sand slipping its last granules through the hourglass. In retrospect, 2014, was one beast of a year! Apparently, the Fates wanted to see how much I could handle. The pained details of 2014 had taken center blog stage but the year ended as it started: my family together and strong.

I'd love to say I am committed to blogging weekly in 2015,  but I am powerless over my wanderlust.  I have tried to get a grip on it but just when I think I am stable footed, I see another tempting hill in the distance and I'm off chasing footholds and fossils. I'm okay with that.  It's who I've always been and it's what keeps me jumping out of bed one morning to the next: the infinite creative possibilities in each day ahead.

I can promise to take blogging one step at a time.  I will practice consistency.  I will try to stay focused but let's be real: I'm a creative soul.  This is a blog about the ingredients of a creative life. Every adventure goes in the bowl alongside creations great and small.  And with loving hands, all is blended with the drama of life until a smooth, creamy batter sweetens the pan.

So bring it on 2015!  I'm stronger than I've ever been. 

LOVE & 2015

*Photos are property of Hand of Bela Peck, snapped in the great state parks of Texas
 

 

 

Back Road Healing

Healing has finally reached full speed and we know no better way to celebrate than to get back out on the roads less travelled.  Both my husband and his Ducati have been through rehab and are now reunited. But to err on the side of caution, Kevin is taking the road back on 4 wheels for another  two months.  At least for the long rides.

A soul needs to wander, to explore, and breathe in what the modern world deems outdated. On our first road trip since Kevin's motorcycle accident we headed from Houston to Fort Worth on what I like to call the "rural express". Texas Farm to Market roads are the best medicine for the newly healed.  Curvy rural blacktop goodness between pastures, small churches, and long-dried-up gas stations provide therapy not available anywhere else in the world.  Fields of wildflowers ignite the countryside in bright orange, purple, and red under a crystal blue cloudless sky.  If FM 339 could be bottled, the intoxication level would be 100 proof euphoria.

To our surprise, we rediscovered a farm we explored years ago and though we forgot its exact location it has been ever present in our minds.   A simple white farmhouse.  Small, but with high ceilings and a wide front porch with a sweeping view of endless green fields of corn. Two massive red barns hug the corner of the country road. Five years ago the property was for sale but being in such a rural location made it out of our geographical reach. Apparently it was never purchased and when we turned the corner and saw the tell tale barn our hearts soared, then sank. Mother Nature had our barn in a choke hold, having already reclaimed the house.

We took our time exploring the dilapidated structures, listening to the busy hum of bee colonies nesting in the walls, cautiously stepping to avoid hidden snakes, and romped through the broken house undaunted by a cranky screech owl nesting in the rafters.  An old piano sat vacated in the living room, yellow sheet music scattered by years of wind through the walls.  I imagined the soft keyed notes on the prairie air as I looked through the poured glass window panes.

There is magic in this place.  I knew it the first time I saw her.  I've never shed the belief that one day I will rebuild her sister on my own land.  Often I've drawn her from memory trying to relay to others this mythical house I crave.

Having to get to Fort Worth, I said a lengthy farewell to my muse.  From between the front porch columns, under the wary eye of the owl, I silently thanked God for the peace of this place and the gift He has sent me in keeping Kevin safe.  I understand the owl and her staunch need to defend what she sees as hers, her kingdom of peace, for I have done the same.

 

LOVE & WANDER