Sunday, August 2, 2009

...8.2.09...

sweeping the porch.
over the years
i've watched my mom do this
hundreds of times.
she left her broom
on the porch
when she moved
across the road.
i could sweep
the spruce needles
off the steps
and the pavers
several times a day-
as the wind fills
them up frequently.
here's the deal...
it's not about
removing the needles.
it's about the smile it brings
to my face,
and the happiness that
fills my heart...
walking in the footsteps of
my mom.
thanks for joining me on the porch today.
welcome to coffee hour.
welcome to this Sunday morning.
just BE.
robin.

5 comments:

Chris said...

This shot put the song, "As My Guitar Gently Weeps" into my head. Nice shot.

Dianne said...

beautiful composition of both images and words
made me smile

Sweet Repose said...

I LOVE(Chris) that song, haven't heard it for a long time...I see the things that I have learned from my mom and granny through the years and think of them with every breath...but my own daughter struggles with her identity, not thinking of the ways of simple life, she is in the now and has always rejected my way, I'm Ma Klampett to her...cool!

She takes after my mom who is remarried and has a more material lifestyle...I'm proud to take after my pops and his mother, my granny, for we see with much wider eyes, our vision is clear...and we always drive the speed limit...my mom once said to me 'you drive just like your dad'...I take that as a compliment.

A quiet gentle man who literally would not hurt a fly...he's a man that cries at the beauty of simple things...and he's not ashamed of it... and I'm proud to call him POPS! He prays every day to protect his ex-wife and her husband and many others...even George Bush(ha)...and that says alot!

I had to have coffee without you Sunday, I left for work VERY early...perhaps tomorrow...

Don't let the bedbugs bite!
g'night Tilda...

CARole said...

Hi Robin. I enjoyed reading your blog this morning. This post reminded me of my mother, it was the photo of the broom. My mother is in assisted living. She has dementia and is 92 but she and I still enjoy time together and she is able to remember so much of the past. The photo of the broom reminded me of the whisk broom that hangs in my laundry room. It was her whisk broom and is quite old. The corners are rounded from all the use and I love it. I also have her wooden ironing board. I remember as a child the sound it made while she ironed, kind of a creaking sound. I have all of her diamond rings, and there are many of them, but the whisk broom and the ironing board are the things I cherish. Oh, I also have her gardening tools. I love thinking of her in her 20's working in her garden with them. What treasures. I compliment you on your photography and your love of coffee!
Happy day
Carole

Tilda said...

To Sharon and Carole....
Isn't it funny what things we cherish for our past. I have many of the family things in my possession, yet ones I love the most are ones of little monetary value. The handwritten recipes I framed and hang on the kitchen wall, one old almost disgusting color pin cushion of Ron's moms, her address book with all the names and address' handwritten on only a few of the many pages as she crammed them altogether. Handwriting gets me every time. It is SO personal. I love your thoughts on your Dad, Sharon. AND if we don't drive the speed limit, just think of what we might miss.
And in this county, it may just be a deer or some varmit we miss, always a good thing!
Note: I always did love sweeping off the porch. Such a simple chore, and yet it brought me great pleasure and calm, as it does Beulah (Robin).