Under a western Pennsylvania moon

Under a western Pennsylvania moon, a young man and a young woman fell in love. As they were falling, they shared their dreams.

She: "Long ago I saved the picture of a house from a magazine. I dreamed of living in that house one day."

He: "Long ago I saved the picture of a house from a magazine. And I, too, dreamed of living in that house one day."

They knew it was true love when they compared their pictures . . . of the same white farmhouse with wraparound porch from the same magazine.



So, they got married and started life together on some acreage on a tree shaded country lane in the middle of western Pennsylvania. They contacted the magazine to see if it were possible to find the plans to their dream home.

Yes, it was.



So they built it, as all dreams are built, with blood, sweat, and some tears. When they were finished they started a family.

And built a barn.



And planted an apple orchard, with long straight rows of branches reaching to the sky.



They built another barn, and started selling knickknacks and geegaws and doohickeys made by local artisans. They began harvesting apples and pressing their own cider.





The people started coming for the knickknacks and geegaws and doohickeys and preserves and apples and apple cider.



And they oo-ed and ah-ed in wonder and delight at the beauty they saw in the realized dream. They brought their children to see the beauty and watch the apples being pressed into sweet golden liquid. They ate apple blossoms (a nutty, caramel-ly, apple-ly treat) and drove away with full tummies and warm hearts.

And that man and that woman, now ten years older, tuck their 3 children into bed after a long day's work together, and marvel at the dream come true that was shared while falling



under a western Pennsylvania moon.

(note: Emmett's Orchard is a real place built from a real dream.)

When the chaos gets to me

I find this truth self-evident, that life is too short not to have fun. But sometimes, in spite of my positive attitude, the chaos wears me down. At those times, these words ground me.

The Trip to Ashtabula

A mother, a daughter, and four friends set out one day in the rain.  Their objective was a jewelry store in Ashtabula.  What they found was that, and much more.

Such a place of wonder

Saturday morning at sunrise...a solitary Canada goose calling for its mate...and me, standing in the brush, listening, watching, taking a picture of the sunrise over a pond and a pile of earth left from strip mining coal.

Fall Leaves and Winter follows

When we moved north of the Mason Dixon line in 1983, my dear Professor and I did not know what to expect. We had both known only two seasons in Texas, hot and hotter, and most of the trees in both of our necks of the woods, even though separated by 500+ miles, were green all year long.

Imagine our surprise that first October in Syracuse. Three year old Principessa, five year old Preacher and I collected as many of the leafy jewel colors that we could find to share them with "Granny" back in Houston. When cleaning out Dad's house last fall I found an old manila envelope with pictures of our first yankee home and a few of those leaves still pressed in wax paper.

Choices

What choices are ruling your day? I made one that made all the difference.  You can read about it here.