Wednesday, July 5th, 2017

Baba Miller’s 100th Birthday (party date)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Actually, she was born yesterday. Apologies for being a lazy photographer. I took no photos of her.

Tuesday, July 4th, 2017

Independence Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Location: north side of Gramma’s house

Friday, June 30th, 2017

Which is the way to faerie-land?

These are the wild days.

 

 

In this late June’s late noon haze,

 

 

we wander through the wetness left

 

 

by June’s heavy rains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We meander through the puddled woodlands,

 

 

troubling the mud and

 

 

muddying the waters.

 

 

And we wander: mother, son, & daughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are the wild days.

 

 

This is our own small wild place.

 

 

And this is how we play and these are our faces.

 

 

And this is how we keep the small child’s wild ways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ramble down between the misty trees

 

 

to play. These are the wild days

 

 

of mid-summer when faeries play

 

 

like children and small humans become fae.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is here we find our magic place.

 

 

It is here we find this great white faerie house

 

 

hidden in the weeds. This house is inhabited

 

 

by friends.

And these are our friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And these are our woods. And these are our bridges.

And this is our river. And these are our bodies.

And these are our ways. And this is our home.

And these are the wild days.

 

 

My children are arrows, and magic the bow. And I am the quiver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are the wild days.

In this late June’s late noon haze,

we wander through the wetness left

by June’s heavy rains.

 

We meander through the puddled woodlands,

troubling the mud and

muddying the waters.

And we wander: mother, son, & daughter.

 

These are the wild days.

This is our own small wild place.

And this is how we play and these are our faces.

And this is how we keep the small child’s wild ways.

 

We ramble down between the misty trees

to play. These are the wild days

of mid-summer when faeries play

like children and small humans become fae.

 

It is here we find our magic place.

It is here we find this great white faerie house

hidden in the weeds. This house is inhabited

by friends.

And these are our friends.

 

And these are our woods. And these are our bridges.

And this is our river. And these are our bodies.

And these are our ways. And this is our home.

And these are the wild days.

 

My children are arrows, and magic the bow. And I am the quiver.

 

—Jessica Rose Shanahan

Nov. 14, 2017

SaveSave

SaveSave

Tuesday, June 27th, 2017

The sweetest big sister in the world: far side of the river.

Summer on the river. (Favorite spot.)

 

 

 

We walk into the woods on the far side.

 

 

 

This is my little girl.

 

 

 

She does not remember a time before Akiva.

 

 

 

Tho she does get the feeling she used to have her mommy all to herself.

 

 

 

I cannot imagine the lonesomeness of being an introverted only child.

 

 

 

There is no thing that my parents ever gave me better than siblings.

 

 

 

Look! Two!

 

 

 

May they always be together,

 

 

 

& never walk alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, June 25th, 2017

Hot Sun, Cool Shade.

Hot sun,

 

 

 

Cool shade.

 

Sunday, June 18th, 2017

Museum Carousel

A wee boy went trotting

Upon his white mare

Bumpety bumpety bump

With his sister behind him

So rosy and fair,

Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

 

 

A raven cried “Croak”

And they all tumbled DOWN

Bumpety, bumpety, bump

The mare broke her knees,

And the wee boy his crown,

Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

 


 

The mischievous raven

Flew laughing away

Bumpety, bumpety, bump!

And vowed he would serve them

The same the next day,

Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

 

 

—Mother Goose

 
SaveSave

Saturday, June 17th, 2017

Baby Goat Love (New Village Farm)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, June 9th, 2017

& I told them, “Dance.”


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I took them out

 

 

to the field

 

 

in the evening light

 

 

and said to them,

 

 

“dance—”

 

 

And then

 

 

the clouds

 

 

took up the orchestra

 

 

and the wind

 

 

sang its solo voice.

 

 

And they danced to the song

 

 

of the clouds

 

 

and the wind.

 

 

And the earth

 

 

would not let their feet

 

 

rest.

 

 

I took them out

 

 

to the field

 

 

in the evening light

 

 

and said to them,

 

 

“dance—”

 

 

and they

 

 

were set

 

 

free.

 

SaveSave

Thursday, June 8th, 2017

Table Traffic

Akiva eats best

 

 

with a lot of traffic at the table.

 

 

It can be hard to reach the food at times.

 

 

Silly game!

 

 

Iris eats best

 

 

under the table.

 

 

She will explain to you

 

 

that it is a reasonable thing to do.

Thursday, June 1st, 2017

Escape from the Mad Carousel