When I am very old…

 

When I am very old, I will sit in a comfortable chair next to the sunny windowsill.  And accompanied by our newest cat Bootsie 12.1 purring in the window I will open my blog.  It is no longer called Muddy Boot Dreams, now it is called Muddy Boots, the Memories…

As I stare into space over the top of the hologram that plays out my old blog posts in sequence, I will realize that our greatest dreams came true, and they were so much more then we had ever thought they would be.  It just took so very long to get there…..

Those were good times, the farm, and so many animals.  And as I read the long ago blog posts that are now so old tech, I have to chuckle, and glance over at my elderly husband of so many decades, sleeping in his chair.  To think that we thought we would have just two cats…and that I would work only part time at my passion for photography.

Bootsie 12.1 paws gently at a insect buzzing in the window, he has all the traits of the previous Boosie’s 1.1 to 11.2.  He acts like he can read my mind, and I guess he can, they have programed him for that.  He is my darling, and although he is not the original cat, I still love him deeply.

My attention is caught by the fluttering of a hummingbird, they visit constantly, and adore the gardens that we have designed, and built through the years.  The gravel paths, and lush foliage is accentuated by colorful perennials, and full grown trees, now brimming with wildlife that we can watch from the comfort of our home.

There is a gentle humming and a sheer hologram image pops up, it’s one of my long time blogging friend’s newest post shimmering in the air.   The sun shines, Bootsie plays in the window, my husband snores into his dreams, and I read my blogs …..

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

What convinced me

 

I found out about Donna from Funky Junk interiors through a few other Bloggers, I love her blog.  This amazing woman is one powerhouse of information.  She is participating in the 31 days blog to biz series, and I am enjoying, and learning from each post she writes.

The one that convinced me to finally get going and give Muddy Boot Dreams blog it’s own domain was the one she wrote called

Purchase your own domain TODAY.

 

This is a must read for all bloggers, since she doesn’t just cover domain name ownership, but how to back up your blog, and many other important pieces of information.  We all fear losing our blog, or screwing it up so badly we can’t fix it.  Actually it’s pretty easy to change to your own domain, and you have some good choices.

My number 1 reason for not doing it sooner….I didn’t know how either.  Wow, well now I do, and am I ever glad that I did it.

It was rather painless, surprisingly.

Yes, that’s me, the non techy blogger saying it was easy.  Look into it for yourself, read Donna’s blog post, she also has a give away for a wonderful E-book written by another blogger.…..and go and back up your blog.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

My own place

 

 

Muddy Boot Dreams has moved, grown up, and left the nest for it’s very own site.  Although I use Blogger to post, I do have my own domain name for my website, www.muddybootdreams.com and now my own for my blog.  I kind of feel like I have graduated into a new land.

Being allowed to play with the big kids on the playground, and all that.

They say that you don’t have to change anything in your google reader, but you might want to make the change to the new domain which is blog.muddybootdreams.com so you don’t miss anything new that is happening around here.

Glad to see you, thanks for dropping by my new nest.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

The hidden Heron

 

Living in the city pretty much our only chance to see any wildlife is when we catch a glimpse of elusive dumpster divers, or bottle collectors.

So like any normal compartment dweller I head to the park when I want to hear the birds sing.  Given the beautiful sun-shiny day the park was full to the brim with gym kids, and seniors with walkers.  Not the best combination, but they all seemed to adapt, walking, and weaving, and there were only a few near collisions.

Seemed that all that human wildlife was a little too much for the birds, while the ducks warily circled in the middle of the lake, most of the bunnies had decided to decamp for greener grasses. Even the crows were missing.

The next day I ventured forth once again, this time there was a conspicuous absence of yelling, and squeaking wheels from walkers.

 

 

As I carefully aimed my camera at the water to get the best reflected shot of the trees, I heard a voice come from behind me. 

Mid sentence it blared into my brain, “I’ve got the best darned shot of a Heron anyone could ever get, you got to be good to do that…” 

Startled, I just turned and shrugged, after all there are many kinds of wildlife around here, including this guy. So I ventured up the path away from the annoying “pro shooter.” 

Then across the lake I saw it, majestically pirouetting across the lake on the bank, a Heron.  I have never seen one here in the middle of the city, and to say I was enraptured is a understatement.

 

It became my goal to get a little closer and get a better shot. Just as I was sidling down the hillside to creep beside the Heron, a voice blasts out again on the banking above me ”the best darned shot of a Heron anyone could ever get, last frame of a 36 shot roll of film, none of that fancy digital crap that you’ve go there, water dripping off of it’s beak and everything.”

Sigh…yes I know, you are the master photographer, I bow down to you….giggle.

Now can you take off please? I have a date with the hidden Heron.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

 

And they danced all night

 

 

“The beautiful flowers danced all night, into the dawn of the Autumn.

  

 

And when the morning sun hit their bruised petals, now elegantly frosted by the morning dew, they glittered like they were encrusted with diamonds.”

 

 

Sometimes a phrase just sticks in your head, and you have to find the right images to go along with it.

I’ve found what I needed….

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Golden goodbyes…..

 

It’s my last tree to show it’s tender new leaves in the spring, and the first to loose the old gold ones in the autumn.  Despite the brief time it’s has foliage, the Gingko tree is one of the bright stars, even during it’s golden goodbye.

My baby started as a tiny six inch seedling, and now tops out at a impressive 7 feet tall, and is still growing. Growing through 5 different pots, each successively larger.  Don’t tell my other trees but this one is a favourite of mine.

Gardeners know this tree as a living fossil, with the Gingko tree’s unusual fan shaped leaves making a showy display in the fall.  But it’s a short lived display, since once they start to turn a vivid shade of yellow, the golden goodbye is not far away.

Suddenly, in not more then a day or two, the leaves will all fall off the branches, leaving a dark skeleton against the sunset. There will be nothing more then a quiet rustle of fading leaves, and a pile of foliage on the ground. 

The beautiful gingko tree bares everything for winter, and hopes for a quick return of spring. And as I watch through the window, the leaves tell of a cold season coming, but the thoughts of spring warm my heart.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Years of summer children running barefoot

 

Years of summer children running barefoot free in the dusty roads ‘till dusk, and the horn of the night train calls them home~

When we were walking at Crescent Beach last weekend we came around the path and there was this engraved rock, sitting right next to the path.  A poignant quote, one that I can’t find the author to, it tweaks my heart strings.

It makes me wonder…..was your childhood like the quote above, running barefoot free and unencumbered for hours? Did you roam through woods, and streets until parents whistled the kids home for dinner.

We never returned until the street lights came on late at night, and no one worried about us. We slid down hills coated in dried summer grass, using old cardboard boxes as sleds.  We were not allowed to go to the corner store, but snuck in there after collecting pop bottles to cash out for candy.

 

We were the last generation to truly feel freedom in our childhood.  Swinging just one more time on the tire swing in the woods.  Wandering alone all over the neighbourhood, in and out of houses.

Returning home with dusty feet, skinned knees, and sap in our hair from climbing trees.

 

Sleepovers were organized in seconds, no meeting of parents, no cell numbers exchanged, we slept outside under the stars in our backyards.

We roasted hot dogs in fires, fished from community ponds, and learned to swim in public pools.  We lived our childhood, every last minute of it was loved.

…until the horn of the night train called us home.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Beach time

 

We did something on Sunday that we haven’t done all summer long, although I do know why we waited until now to do it.  We spent time alone - together at the beach.

We are not crowd people, we both work in environments that mean we are never alone.  So anytime spent together quietly is cherished.  That means the beach during the summer months is not the place to be.  It’s crowded with tourists, happy kids, and barking dogs.

But it’s a different beach when summer ends, a endless stretch of sand, and sun, no echo’s but the waves.  Of course there are still people, but there is also silence, and a glistening spark of light off of the waves.

Perfection is sitting on a salt encrusted log, coffee in hand, the sun warming our faces, and having no one intrude on our space.  We could watch the happenings from afar.

When a crow dropped in to visit, I managed to grab some shots without scaring him off.  The seagulls flew overhead, and the sunlight shimmered through their feathers.

Time spent together is time expanded, loved, and remembered.  A few moments in our lives, that refreshed our souls.  Something to carry us through the rain that surely is coming.

What’s your favourite “beach time space?”

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Visually inspiring

 

My life has a perfect technical relationship in it, the computer, camera, and myself.  After denying that we needed, or had room for a computer for decades, we succumbed to temptation and bought our first PC only a few years ago.  It was love at first sight, or should I say click, it was visual inspiration.

My husband was then seduced by a small but very versatile 2 mega pixel camera. Him,“ think of the photos we can take,” Me, what are we going to do with it, do we really need a digital camera?

Yes, I can hear you laughing right now.

Next came the bigger point and shoot, 10 mega pixels, and a huge passion for photography.  Digital is instant visual inspiration, fulfilling any need you have to see something beautiful right in front of your screen.

And then after feeling just a teensy bit guilty about bombarding my friends email in box’s with too many photos, I decided to start a blog.

My friends email inbox’s thank you.

Without you, there would be so many emails from Jen, photos from Jen, and just one more shot from Jen, that I am sure they were beginning to revolt.

Blogging is visual inspiration for me, I read, I view, I write, and it all helps create something that fulfills a need.

A need to share what I see, how I see it, and why I see it that way. And a need to know how others see the world around us.

You are one of the reasons that I take my camera out whenever possible, to get more shots, more images, more visual inspiration. And my camera thanks you. 

I like to share, and I love to be visually inspired.  You make it possible. Thank you.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

 

Talking to strangers

 

“Well goodbye, and good luck with your new kitties.”  I wave to the people I have just spent a half hour talking to in the pet store, and turn to a friend who grimaces, and says, do you know everybody?

“Umm, I don’t know them” I reply.

“What? Well how about the other person you were talking to at the door, and that guy from the discount store, and those people that you were talking to last week in the supermarket.” 

Nope, don’t know them either.

The look on her face is pretty much the same as the one my husband gets on his when I finish talking to perfect strangers.  It’s one of how do you get into conversations with strangers, and end up talking to them for so long.

It’s easy, work retail for most of your life, starting a convo with a stranger is second nature.  I’m the one at the party who cruises to the new people layering the edges of the room, and starts talking.
You end up meeting the nicest people, and having the best conversations. I meet people in line ups at the supermarket, in the library, at parks, buying pet food, and in my retail job. 

Some of them know me “from somewhere”, or think “you look familiar.” And if you are a gardener in the area that I live in, yes I am the person that worked at that nursery for over 15 years.  So you do know me, and yes, it’s a small world. 

I am the person that you turn to in the grocery aisle, when you are wondering if parsnips are any good. They are delicious roasted.  And when you are deciding about a new shampoo, I am the person who tells you how much I love the coconut one.

I get to meet the nicest of people, and they all tell me stories of their lives, I am sure we all do it.  It’s just a perk of being human, and socializing.

 

Funny thing is, I was extremely shy when I was a child.  I mean totally embarrassed to speak up, seriously tongue tied, couldn’t say hello….and now I am Mrs. Gregarious.  Nice to meet you!

So you?  Do you talk to strangers?  Are you a social butterfly, as my husband puts it?  Or are you the one that I have to coax out of your shell? Spill….

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Did you know? 2 am is the new 4 am

 

 

We don’t get a lot of sleep around here, since 2 am is the new 4 am, that’s Standard Bootsie time.  Yes, wakeup calls are now being scheduled for 2 am, where we used to have the luxury of sleeping through the night until a whooping 4 am. 

Ah I remember sleeping in until 4 am, the good old days…now my life is more of a daze then anything else. Kitty scratching alarm clocks replacing our zzzzzz’s.  We walk around sleep deprived all day.

There’s not much we can do, we have tried most everything.  Overfeeding him the night before, hoping that the extra carbs would lull him to sleep through the night.  Locking him in another room, that backfired, when the neighbours in our condo, beside, and above us heard him clubbing the door throughout the night.  Keeping him awake all day, proved more difficult then getting up at 2 am.  He is prone to just drop off where ever he is at any given moment, that’s probably why they call them cat naps.

So for now we put up with it, while we live in 800 square feet. But come the day Bootsie, when we get a house….Oh Bootsie. Our time is going come.  No more wakeup calls, because you will have your very own special kitty room, and it will be far, far, away from ours.

Wake up Boo Boo.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

It’s all gravy till it goes bad

 

I love windows live writer for blogging.  It seems to have simplified my life, and made blogging fun again.

It was all gravy until I made a few changes to my blog, and then kaput, like the oven element that blew up our Thanksgiving turkey, things changed.  I have no idea what color, or font the header to this post is going to be, let’s live on the wild side today. Yes, go and look above, and let me know. It’s supposed to be a rusty brown, and the font is supposed to be Gigi.  Most likely it’s something totally different…..hmmm.

And I know that I shouldn’t point this out to you, but it’s driving me batty, [Halloween coming up and all].  But how on earth does the header get squished over into the right hand corner?

Everything was fine, really, I closely cropped my new header, and put it up with fingers crossed, at 1024 pixels, but somehow it’s jammed into the corner.  Any ideas? Does yours do that? Can you tell me what to do? 

And do you like it?  Is the color too yucky?  On my computer it’s a warm bisque, but I am wondering what it’s like on yours.  Tell me it’s not some nasty pea soup color, oh please, LOL.

 

Anyways, I remain, for now at least, until the computer changes that too.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Turkey Day trauma

 

 

Monday October 10 is Canadian Thanksgiving Day. While we are always grateful for what we have, sometimes we have to wonder if the turkey has a mind of it’s own. Over the years various mishaps have occurred, our oven has blown out, and we had to transport the half cooked turkey up 3 flights of stairs to a friends apartment.  And once after 6 1/2 hours in the oven, the bird had to be hacked apart and cooked piece by piece.  Each year we start the defrost cycle a day earlier, but our bird still remains stubbornly frozen.

Day 1: Wrench back trying to get perfect sized turkey out of wall cooler at grocery store.  Ignore signs of accumulated frost making it look more like a snowman then a turkey.  Ask gum popping cashier at check stand if she thinks it might be frostbite.  After she removes her ear buds and cracks gum one final time, she cocks her head, and muses.  “Huh” she asks. Decide to go ahead anyways.

Day 2: Calculate time needed to defrost turkey in fridge,  recalculate, worry, and wonder if you used pounds instead of kilograms would it be any quicker, think about emailing newspaper and telling them that they are wrong about how long it really takes, since your calculations say it takes 10 days. And your turkey is under size. Push back despair, and recall that millions of people all over the world are able to pull together a Thanksgiving dinner without worry and effort.  You just happen to be the millionth and unlucky one.

Day 3: Stop poking turkey in plastic wrapping to see if it is defrosting after Husband comments that you are spending more time looking in the fridge then a teenager. Relocate every other unneeded food item in fridge so turkey can have prime real estate in your now too small fridge. Who needs cream for morning coffee anyways.

Day 4: Realize that you will be poking turkey till the cows come home.  And it’s still frozen solid.  Great, you have the only fridge in the world that keeps food frozen - without a freezer.

Day 5: Consider serving turkey burgers instead.

Day 6: Wake up at midnight, 2 am, and 4 am to secretly poke turkey to see if it is defrosted.  Nope, still frozen solid.  Read online turkey day horror stories to see if anyone else has this problem.  Wonder if they are true. They can’t be, right?

Day 7: Rejoice, turkey gave way slightly when poked. Come to conclusion that it just moved in tray.  Give up and prepare frozen turkey for oven.  Guests don’t need to eat at dinner time, after all it’s trendy to eat late at night.

Midnight, pull finally cooked, and perfect turkey out of oven.  Yes it’s a late night dinner, but guest are understanding.  After all, who hasn’t had turkey day trauma.

Day 8: Vow to start defrosting turkey 2 weeks before turkey day.  Forget to  mark calendar, and repeat.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Catching the light

 

 

It’s such a joy to take off from work early, and head out the door into the late afternoon to catch the light with your camera.

And it’s so worth the effort to get out there and see the sun shining low down in the sky. Catching the light as it glimmers through the fading petals, dancing among the leaves, sunlit and golden.

 

 

Bouncing off of the water, onto the ducks feathers, and skipping across the puddles left from too much rain. These days are a gift, left over from summer.  A gift given to sustain us through winter’s grey days, and dark nights.

 

 

Take the time to get outside when you can, and when you can’t really make the time, do it anyways. After all, catching the light won’t always be a option.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

The greatest of expectations

 

 I have been writing some posts that are more in tune with who I am, expressing feelings, and emotions. But after I write a in-depth post, it seems like my spark is gone. It’s not because I am uninterested in blogging more, it’s because I have these great expectations of myself, and I feel that after writing a post from the heart, that the following post should be equally well written, thought out, and expressed. 

But it doesn’t always work that way.

In my mind creativity is a deep well, made with rounded, moss covered stones  smoothed by numerous hands drawing water up from a old bucket. 

It also has a cute thatched roof….but hey, let’s not get too deep here.

Sometimes the well is full, and the creativity [water] is plentiful. There is more then enough to drink. In other words create, and express myself. The words, and the images appear almost magically, creativity just flows.

 

Other times the well is low, and it must be portioned out just to sustain it.  There isn’t enough water to create anything.

Expectations are good, they make us better at what we do, but how do we balance everything?

When life is stressful, or demanding there is a period of not feeling creative, or having the time and energy to do what we need to do to stay who we are.  

I would love to know what you do to spur your creative streak, how do you balance it with the demands of life, family, jobs?  How do you carve out that chunk of time to continue doing what you love?

I consider my creativity a well, now tell me about yours, what do you call it, and how do you keep it full. 

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Bird’s nest

 

 

“Sometimes you need to step outside, get some air, and remind yourself of who you are, and where you want to be.”

 

Found on Pinterst, attributed to Gossip Girl.  Perfect for me.

The sign was one I painted years ago, it hangs on my deck, as a reminder.  Follow you bliss.  I’m trying.

Many Thanks to Abby for giving me this abandoned Robin’s Nest.  You have opened up a whole new avenue of creativity.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

This is joy

 

 

We are all on a journey,  some share it, and others keep it private, I guess I am sharing as much as I can right now.  Journey’s are terrifying, and wonderful, and scary, and they make you grow.

It’s nothing bad.  I am on a journey, and I am attempting to grow into the woman I am meant to be. 

The journey makes me cry sometimes, and then when things are good, it makes me laugh.  I try to make sure I laugh a lot. A whole lot. When I laugh, I am learning to take that second, that fleeting moment of euphoria and tell myself that this is joy.

Savour it.

The other day a friend and I were at the beach, watching endless skies  meet horizons, blue on blue, waves coming in, a can this really be fall kind of day?

The sun was warm on my face, and we were sitting on the rocks, there was barely a breeze, and few other people around.  We were having one of those conversations that continues on for a length of time, and at the end, you realize that somehow the cement in your friendship is just a little stronger.

Something darted by my head, it was joy.  Small, and fleet, like a dragonfly it waved in front of my head, and then it was gone. 

But it was joy.

Remembering that miniscule moment, and realizing how fast it can slip through your fingers, makes you know that it is joy. Treasure that feeling, make it last as long as you can.  And when the journey hurts, remember the moment of joy.  Bring it out, polish it up, and let it shine.

Because it is joy.

 

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams

There are moments

 

You know those feelings that dart by like a moment of clarity?  When you try to reach out and grab them, they slip through your fingers, and you are left with a small sense of loss, but also a hope, and a realization?  That's what I was writing about, those small glimmers, those fleeting moments, that made me cry.  It's kind of sad, but it also excited me, that moment.  I didn't even consider other people might have sad forgotten memories. I just knew that I was feeling a sense of....well, regret at what I was missing.  

And I knew that I had to get it out.  I wrote that post in minutes, barely proof read it, and published it. It was what I was feeling at that moment.  

It’s called growth, it’s called a blog, and it’s called life.

Now here you are probably thinking whoa, this is a can of worms.  No, sorry,  I was just trying to explain, that I feel bad for causing any painful or bittersweet memories in those who read that post.

 

But I also feel good, that some people understood what I was trying to share. I hope that you get that, and I hope that I get more of those moments of clarity.

Thank you.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams