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January

...... and my thoughts turn to garnets (my birthstone), gloomy days, dirty snow, homework (though I haven't been in school for years), everything I didn't accomplish the previous year and why, root vegetables, cleaning......

Not much of the above leaves a whole lot to be desired.

Wishing I could just skip January all together.

So I'm doing little things..... trite, but they make the moment seem a bit better.

   Making a new wreath for my front door with white winter berries, twiggys,
    pinecones and burlap.
   Happy, bright new nail polish.
   Turquoise gloves.
   Trying lots of new vegetable dishes from recipes I've found on Pinterest.
   The birdies need some yummy food..... heart-shaped would be lovely, I think.
   A note of gratitude every day.

Endure endure endure endure.

Endure January.  Wishing I could hibernate.  But knowing I could never get away with it.  Damn.


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Lake McDonald, Montana

Have I ever talked about my thing for rocks?  Have had it since I was a little girl.... loved to collect rocks and go to rock shops.  I even have a few sitting next to my bed (nothing bigger than what fits in the palm of your hand) right now that've caught my fancy the last year or so... or that someone's given me.  Like the small white one Ally gave to me from our trip to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, at the Quileute Indian Reservation beach (okay, yeah... so it was really to see 'Twilight' country, but we saw some pretty amazing scenery as well)... and then a black rock Rob found on our trip to the Oregon Coast last year. Anyway... there's this lake in Montana ... Lake McDonald ... obviously from the subject heading... and it's got shores of brightly-colored rocks.  So guess what got added to the bucket list as soon as I saw the photos?  Yep... I will go there... for the rocks.... just to see the pretty colors. 

Today...

Sunset over Sierra Nevada Mountain Range... FOR Sierra <3 How fragile life is, how certain death ... Every thoughtful person has asked himself the question best phrased by Job of old: "If a man die, shall he live again?" Try as we might to put the question out of our thoughts, it always returns. Death comes to all mankind. It comes to the aged as they walk on faltering feet. Its summons is heard by those who have scarcely reached midway in life's journey. At times it hushes the laughter of little children. ... We do not know when we will be required to leave this mortal existence. And so I ask, "What are we doing with today?" ~Thomas S. Monson~