The hills comfort my soul. When I am there, I breathe easily, my heart rate slows... it is good, all is well.
Except, of course, that I have to come home.
It doesn't seem to matter how long I have been away, the foothills are still HOME. I still long to be there. I still want to move there, even though I know that it really isn't possible or sensible.
I don't have parents there any more to visit. I do have friends, but there's this pandemic... but it's getting safer, and hopefully we will get to whatever "normal" looks like.
Today I saw cows, and had this urge to go hug one, but they aren't MY cows, they don't know me. There are no cows that know me LOL I am going to have to visit the dairy with the third graders LOL
It was a gorgeous day, very few clouds. We went to Jackson, and ended up at that "Italian Place" to have a late lunch, which they fixed us even though it was after lunch. We sat outside and watched the birds, tiny sparrows, and some hawks looking for lunch. There's more cars that pass there now than twenty years ago. It is still a lovely spot, a lovely place to accept a marriage proposal.
Sometimes we end up at Camanche, but today we stopped at Pardee. This is from the Observation Point, and it is a lovely view. It was a bit windy up there, which of course I love, and we just stood and watched the boaters as well as more birds.
I am wanting to see butterflies. It's really rare these days. I've seen ONE. It was a painted lady, the kind that migrated through Lodi a couple years ago, the day my mother died.
I am also wanting to plant some good butterfly bushes in the back yard. I have some flowers coming up, but I'm getting impatient, and I am thinking Lowe's would be a great place to get some snapdragons or maybe some calendulas... it always feels like, "it's too early to plant" to "why didn't I plant earlier" so quickly. Up the hill we didn't plant until around May, but here, that's really too late to start!
As for crafting... I ordered myself a new stamping platform. I realized that I always try to cut corners and get the cheapest of everything. The first one I got is really good, but only for tiny things. So I ordered one that I can use for much bigger things. I have been wanting a wreath builder forever, but it wouldn't work in my tiny platform. I ordered one of them too.
I really have been getting frustrated. My guillotine trimmer has a bent arm, so you have to hold it just right to cut it straight. My rotary one needs a new blade, and you have to go over it several times. My small one cuts all wrong. I need to just toss it. I would like to have a small one so I could use it in the living room. So now I have a new platform coming, and next perhaps some kind of small trimmer....
And then the die cutter. My little cuttlebug is old, and wobbly. So maybe that's next. So then I think, do I really want to do this?? Am I going to keep making cards, journaling and such? I decided that my thinking about giving up is because of dumb trimmers and tiny platforms and wobbly die cutter.... then, if I had good equipment it would not be so frustrating. So. New platform, next maybe trimmer or die cut machine?? Or, figure out the best way to make the cuttlebug work, new "sandwiches" or shims....
So I'm thinking about a trip to the hills in late April, or maybe May. To call Patty and meet at the Iris Gardens...
Until then, I am just remembering, all those years, all the wild flowers, all the cows and goats I have hugged, and the chickens, Lady Cluck and Esmeralda and Blackie... the lovely scene when it is windy and the grasses on the hill are swaying. Even the days when it was snowing sideways and the thunder just about made me jump out of my skin when I was trying to get to the barn to feed the cows... "herding water" with my dad when it was pouring and we had to divert the water off the road so it wouldn't wash out the road... that time when Patty and I were "skating" on the reservoir in our boots when we were little and we were lucky we didn't fall in. Or when we were on horseback and the silly horse tried to go under a tree to brush us off... or when we played at the grinding rock and lined up rocks and pretended to grind acorns... and hearing about years later an archeologist said there was "evidence of habitation" there and never knowing if it was our "habitation" he was seeing.
Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you
Simon and Garfunkel, Bookends.
