A tiny butterfly landed on my new butterfly bush. It has been blooming for three weeks, so I was starting to wonder.
Category: Jeanne Marie
I wish I had two…
I wish I had two…
I love sundown…
Feeling Blessed
Not All Wishes
I saved the last wish for you…
I saved the last wish for you…
Meet me here…
Meet me here…
Bridge to cross
Bridge to cross…
Lupines
Lupines
Maggie Mae and Me
Maggie Mae & Me
Pink Sunset, Pink River
Pink sunset equals pink river…watching the optical illusion of water flowing pink was a fairytale moment.
I couldn’t walk away until the sun was gone.
My Apple Tree
Planted a Macoun apple tree on our two acre farm. Well, my husband did the digging part. I loved setting it in the ground and covering the roots with soil.
I’ve planted banana, orange, avocado and peach trees, but this was my first apple tree. My first farm too. I am in love with this land and the 1880 farmhouse is a bonus.
Next spring, God willing, I’m going to have a field plowed and plant half sunflowers and half veggies.
This is our sixteenth house and it feels like it could be the resting point. It feels like home.
Always Chasing Butterflies
Always Chasing Butterflies
she gets lost in the lilacs
she gets lost in the lilacs
the sun
the sun kissed me pretty
Bunch of wishes…
Bunch of wishes…
Gypsy on the move…again.
I left Florida for Vermont last week. After three hard days of driving, arrived in Heaven. We bought an old (1880) farmhouse on two acres, surrounded on three sides by cornfields. Fourth side is a beautiful river.
We bought this house without ever seeing it in person and it’s everything we prayed it would be and more. Even has an RV hookup for my tiny home.
Half a wish…
Half a wish…
Silence Whispers
The Last Smoker, 2030
This is a dystopian horror story I wrote 20 years ago. With few changes from the original, I dedicate it to my mum, Grace Christine. (1926-2009)
She was my first and my most important fan. I love you, Mum.
I was saving this one for someday, but seems like someday is today.
The Last Smoker, 2030
As she gazes around at the white padded walls, the toilet and the sink in one corner, the thin mattress she sits on in the opposite corner, Angel sighs.
She doesn’t have any personal belongings in her cell. No books, no pictures, no clothes.
The itchy, green government issued blanket on her mattress is her only possession. Some things never change; the blanket is proof enough. So, how had the world around her changed so drastically?
The guard who has been watching her through the small window opens the cell door and Angel stands…
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All I need is my flowers to make me smile…
Go ahead, make my day…
Make my day
Sunset and Sunflower
Sunset and sunflower…
Memory Clutter
I was finally in the mood to start some spring cleaning and I decided to begin with my office.
As I cleaned, I realized why I held on to so many mementos and gifts from the people I love.
It wasn’t the actual notes or the drawings, it wasn’t the colorful gift bags with ribbons and bows that captivated me.
No, what I was struggling to fit into this small room, aside from computers, printers, writing, books, CDs, tapes and boxes of pictures were the moments when the gifts had been created and given.
I wanted back the happiness and the love in each child’s face when they had handed the gifts to me.
The pride in my mother’s eyes when she handed me her handmade crafts and the warmth of my sister’s hugs, the memories remained in the gifts.
After so many years, these items still triggered every emotion imaginable.
The metal sculpture my twenty-five year-old grandson welded for me when…
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Let Me Fly
Let Me Fly
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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