31. I Love ... Sheep Grazing

The real thing,

but also pictures.

I recall a grazing sheep picture

in the hallway

on the way upstairs

in the house where I lived

when I was four years old.

It's the only picture

I remember.

It seemed back then

that most homes

had a grazing sheep picture.

Or some sheep picture.

The Good Shepherd thing I suppose.

Calming.
Pastoral.
Pastural.

That's what it is.

Whether it's a picture or real.

Even real ones are

almost stationary.

There's a place not far from us

that has a sign

'Do Not Honk At the Sheep'.

Really?

Who honks at sheep?

Who even THINKS about honking at sheep?

Enough people that it warrants a sign apparently.
Actually,
I have to confess.
The sign makes me WANT to
honk at the sheep.

Running sheep

are not calming.

Or all that common.
A sheep stampede ... rare.

Grazing.

That's what sheep love.
And I love
Sheep.

30. I Love ... a Blanket and a Cup of Tea

On a gray November day

or a

snowy January morning

or when

I'm deep into a good book

or when

friend sits across from me

or when

I'm chatting on the phone

or when

I've got an armful of grandbabes

or

I'm writing 

or 

pensive

or 

planning

or

 dreaming.

Actually,

I love 

a blanket and a cup of tea

pretty well

anytime.

29. I Love ... the Path Between

There are two ways

to get to my neighbour's next door

in Newfoundland.

Rather than go the smooth road

I always take the

crooked, uneven path

that joins our two homes

through the yard.

And every single time that I do,

I think of the days

on that island

when every visit between

friends and neighbours and families

was travelled

that way.

You choose where you step carefully -

there is not a foot of even ground.

It's sloping

and a little rocky

and some days a little boggy.

It winds along side the clothesline.

Not as worn as I'm sure it once was,

when the feet

of the dear souls that I have come to love

travelled it daily.

It's a sacred spot to me -

that path -

that island.

And to a farm girl

whose nearest neighbour is a bit of a walk,

it's such a great 

delight

to pop next door.

28. I Love ... My Tree

It's got a split.

Deep.

Long.

I worry about that.

I want Brian to wrap him with wire so he'll

stay together.

He tells me that won't

help.

The day that he is intent on splitting,

he's gone.

I don't want to see 

that day.

When the wind blows

too strong.

 I cringe.

I'm afraid to look when

lightning is close.

I say a quiet prayer.

That tree,

that big, beautiful, old,

incredible

tree

draws me.

It throws its shadow

like a blanket

over my cabin

and across the pond.

It is my shelter.

It is my comfort.

From over here and over there.

It is my symbol

for all 

I Love

in nature

and all

I Love

on our land.

27. I Love ... My Tent

It's not fancy - 

just basic.

It has no rooms

and awnings

and all that

stuff.

But it has a top

that can come off

completely.

I can see out

everywhere.

And I can breathe.

And

I can put it up 

myself.

There's lots of room

for a single bed,

a table,

a basket,

boxes

and even a chair

if it's

just me.

There's of room

for a couple kids

or a friend.

There's lots of room for the

possibility

of

Adventure.

26. I Love ... Walking

The ability to.

Many, many, many times,

 I have gotten out of my car

in a parking lot
and the thought comes to me:
"I am so blessed to be able to
walk."

I suppose it comes to me there
to supercede
any thoughts of whining
about how far away I had to park.

The fact that I can rise

when I want to,

and with ease proceed to

wherever I want to go,

is not something that

I take for granted.

There are times that I feel

like I could

walk and walk and walk

forever.

An evening walk is such a pleasant thing.

But way too often I make some excuse

that gets me off in another

direction

and I let go

of something

that could bring me such pleasure.

I need to walk.

More.

25. I Love ...Chairs

which would be a fairly safe observation

if one ever looked around the house.

Or the cabin.

Or the haymow.

Or our place in Newfoundland.

I may have more chairs than most.

I used to be particularly drawn to rocking chairs.

I still am of course.

It is a specific and separate love.

But I am also drawn

to any wooden kitchen chair that has

an interesting shape, a pleasing colour,

is worn ... or cheap.

I have a bit of a collection.

I have been asked 'how many?'

The answer is

Lots.

It might be thought

that we have as many little buildings as we do

so we have somewhere to put

the chairs.

Perhaps.

And why
would one love
chairs
so much?
Apparently
I likes to sit.

24. I Love ...good pen. a fine pen, the right pen.

I don't like to worry that the words will smudge,

will disappear completely from the page.
Gone.

I've had that happen.

It's a sad thing to see.

It makes a difference ... the pen.

The words flow so much better when they flow.

Thick, fat lines are awkward; 

they make me write messy.

I enjoy writing so much more with the right pen.

And for me,

they are often illusive.

Four hundred pens and most likely

isn't one amongst them

that I will enjoy.

23. I Love ... Music

All music.  

Reggae & Country & Classical & Folk & Rock...

All music.

Even Rap.

It is the most effective Mood Tool.

Want to feel cheerful?

Put on something lively.

Want to feel mellow.

Put on mellow.

Want to feel nostalgic?

Put on the songs

that bring memories flooding back.

How awesome to live

in a time when music is so 

accessible.

Music can

change a mood,

set a mood,

calm people down, 

rev people up.

A powerful tool.

And I love it all.

And I love that I can have it 

in my life with such ease.

22. I Love ... Buttercups

I even love 

the word

BUTTERCUP.

Fragile.

Tiny.

Buttery yellow.

I think

summer fields

and 

children.

Me and mine.

Little hands.

Simple jars.

Simple days.

And I think about 

Jersey cows.

21. I Love ... Red

Red. Reds.

Red everything.

Which is really something

because for the longest time

I hated

that I had 

red hair.

It was an embarassment.
It was a curse.
It was a taunt.
'Hey Red'
was used as an insult.

I was told to 

never, EVER

wear red.

It clashed.

I listened for 

way too long.

And then I 

rebelled.

I wore red.

I decorated with red.

The more I used,

the more I grew

to 

like

my hair.

Red 

now is magnetic

to my soul.

I like a splash of

Red

everywhere.

I Love ...

Red doors.

Red paint.

Red flowers.

Red journals.

Red jackets.

Red rooms.

Red wagons.

Red barns.

Red hair.

I am well Red.

20. I Love ... 9 pane windows

The real kind.

The old kind.

Wooden frame

with

layers and layers and layers

of springtime paint.

Wash the glass,

paint the wood.

We're fresh and ready

for a new season.

Year after year.

And then one day,

not.

'We'll leave it for next year.'

Then the next.

The nine pane owners are

old

and so is the window.

It weathers.

And weathers.

And then it gets replaced.

By vinyl.

Never needs painting.
Never weathers.

It is void of layers of paint.
And character.
And history.
And life.

The old nine pane
has a story.
It has seen the frost.
Breath upon it.
Faces
up close.

Peering faces from
outside in
and
inside out.

Then abandoned.
Replaced.
Discarded.
Blanketed now by weeds.

I find it.
I want it.
Because
I LOVE
nine pane windows.

19. I Love ... Sundays

Which is kind of strange

since I basically have the
freedom
to craft any day
into I want.

Sunday

though, I like the word.

It says

 'something special'.

It says

REST

if you want to.

My favourite simple Sunday -

reading the Star

leisurely.

A second cup of coffee.

Brian watching football.

The kids coming to play at the farm.

A nap in my cabin.

Taking a journal to a quiet spot.

Anything.

Or nothing.

Sunday.

Does it begin the week?

Or end the week?

The only day that could be either -

depending on your

mood

or your

needs.

SUN Day.

Even as a

rainy, dreary, lazy day

there is 

comfort

knowing it will come.

18. I Love ... sunsets

I should have a
bumper sticker
that says:
"I Stop for Sunsets"

If I am blessed

with colour,

I do indeed 

stop

what I am doing

and soak it in.

Sunsets do not get away on me

without me willing it to 

stay

just a little 

longer.

There is a

feel

to a sunset;

a calmness.

You just observe.

You cannot rush it.

It is there for everyone.

But everyone does not see it.

Those that do

can

hold it,

moment by moment;

a gentle slipping away

before

there is

darkness.

17. I Love ... Inspiring People

Inspiring PEOPLE

not

INSPIRING people.

As in

people who inspire me,

not the act of

me inspiring them,

although I would love that too

if it were at all possible.

I love people who inspire me

in all kinds of ways;

by their

tenacity,

humour,

gentleness,

fortitude,

tolerance,

honesty,

openness,

warmth,

grace.

I love people with a ready

smile,

laugh, 

hug.

I love people with open

minds,

hearts, 

arms.

I love people with

passion,

enthusiasm

and 

sense of adventure.

I love people who slog

through the mire and muck

of tough times

and don't come out

bitter.

I love people 

who love living.

Who are grateful for each day

no matter what it brings.

I love people who want to

LIVE until they die.

16 I Love ... water over rocks

That's something

you don't even have to

see

to appreciate or 

recognize.

You can 

close your eyes

and you know 

it's happening.

Movement.

Coming from a source.

Not stagnant.

Not laying.

Not sitting.

Moving.

Over and around.

Creating sound.

Creating

a memerizing motion

that draws your eye 

to it;

draws your soul

to it.

It says to me:

"I am moving.

You don't need to.

Sit.

Watch.

Listen.

I am

churning and stirring.

If you will stay

quietly

with me 

for awhile,

I will

stir

your thoughts.

I will 

move

your spirit.

You can watch as I go

on

and 

on

and 

on.

And wash over

your cares

and round 

your edges."

15. I Love ... Blogger

Maybe

I just love

any technical program

that I can actually

figure out.

It's got to do some
pretty amazing things
for me to Love it.
For the longest time
I thought BLOG was the
most ridiculous,
unattractive word
ever.
'Blogger' would have been just
a dirivitive of a
stupid word.

I've grown
accustomed to it.

Blogger

is

friendly.

Blogger

is 

smart.

It saves my words

without me having

to remember to do that.

It allows for creativity.

It actually invites creatitivy.

It is my on-line journal.

And we know

how I LOVE 

journals.

And I LOVE

writing.

And I LOVE

photographs.

I can marry them all together

in the sky.

And when the 

time is right.

I can press a button

and

SLURP.

It all comes back to me

in a book.

14. I Love ...frogs

and the 

joy

they bring

to my grandbabes.

Around

and

around

and 

around

the pond

catching the poor old fellas.

Over

and 

over 

and 

over.

Being

Delighted

and 

Excited

every single time.

I Love

hearing them

at nights ...

bedroom window

open.

The 

sound

of summer.

Remembering it,
longing for it
in the depths of
winter
while they soundly
sleep.
Somewhere.
Where are they?

While I
await
their return
to sing their
summer song.

13. I Love ... hands

Tiny little baby hands

with perfect tiny little finger nails.

Pudgy little toddler hands

holding on to one finger.

Grimely, sticky, dirty little kid hands;

proof of all their adventures of the day.

Growing hands:

little boy hands changing to a young man's;

little girls with sparkly polish

all too soon
with slender fingers
wearing a promise.

Hands of a hard working man,

a hard working woman.

Aged hands,
holding a lifetime
of days past.

Days of

 holding a baby,
holding a lover,

 holding a friend,
holding the future.

Hands together in prayer.
Hands
at rest.

Hands hold
it all.

12. I Love ... Lupins

I didn't given them

any thought

at all

until I discovered that they grew

wild

in Newfoundland.

I am not there with them

every year.

I suppose that makes them

even more of a

gift to me.

Elusive.

A few times I have

painstakingly

collected the pods to spread some

summer joy

myself;

but it has never worked.

I can't tell if the soil is 

too rich 

for them or 

too poor.

They simply refuse to grow.

And so I must

catch a glimpse of

 happy pink and rich, rich purple

when I can.

In the wild.

And that, I suppose

is why I cannot cultivate them.

I am meant to love them

where I find them.

11. I Love ... Old, Old Photos

I don't even have to know

who they were.

I have been known

to adopt people;

to give them a name

and add them 

to our family.

We have gained

Emily,

Jack,

Anna

and

poor Clara.

We take

 thousands upon thousands

of photos now.

I suspect that the

solitary

family photo 

from the turn of the century

will always garner 

more interest,

more examination,

more stewardship

from people

who don't have a clue

who they are,

than the multitude of photos

that we produce now.

A shoebox
would contain most people's lives
back then;
now
it's an external hard drive
or cloud back up
for a year or two of
images.

Old, old photos:

even without

archival ink

they survive

even if their stories

don't.

10. I Love ... the cursive L

I love the look of it.

I love making it.

It's graceful,
like
figure skating
with your fingers.

It's balletic.

It's flowing
like
directing a symphony.

It was my favourite letter to write

when I was learning cursive writing.

L and S

I envied people whose names started with those letters.

Funny,

I married into an 'S'

but I'm quick and sloppy with it.
Half the time you can't even tell
it's an S

It's not the practiced, musical S of my childhood.
Musical
because it always reminded me
of a backwards treble clef.

But my L is.
Always.
It's hard to sloppy-up an L.

9. I Love ... birdsong

I love the word.

I love the concept.

I love the connotation.

I have an image

in my head that is

BIRDSONG.

It is a red winged blackbird

collaged on top of faded

musical notes.

Simply. 

Eloquent

in one word

or two.

Perhaps it isn't a real word -

an official word.

It doesn't matter.

It is in MY world.

"And in the morning they awoke to birdsong."

"The evening ended with gentlest of birdsong."

Birdsong.

Birdsong.

Birdsong.

8. I Love ... the lake

In fact,

I picked my college 

 for the sole reason

that there was a

lake

close by.

As are so many,
I am drawn to water.

Soothing,

rhymic,

meditative
or
powerful.

Gentle lapping 

or

 fierce pounding, crashing;

both are equaly

appealing

to me.

The great lakes are like the ocean;

the horizon going on 

and on;

the perfect landscape for

sunsets.

A quiet lake is magnetic

to me as well.

Peaceful.

Still.

The call of the loon;

the fragrance of the woods.

The lake with its seductive power

 can make me

pensive,

melancohly;
it can make me
relax,
disengage with chaos,
it can take me
away.

7. I Love ... a Snow Day

Seriously.

I do.

I really, really, really do.

I love it

when the snow is 

whirling and twirling,

and the wind is

growling and howling.

I love it when 

I don't have to second guess
whether to venture out;
when there is absolutely no possibility
 for me to go 

anywhere;

even though I most likely

wasn't going to anyway.

I love it when

I think I shouldn't have to

work

even though

I don't have to leave the house,

which means
 I really don't have a

legitimate excuse.

I love it when 

the woodstove is roaring,

the kettle is hot

and my only mission

is to curl up with a 

book and cuppa.

I love it when

the roads are closed

so NO ONE

can go anywhere;

when everyone is home

Safe & Sound & Warm.

I always loved it when I
was young
and I woke up to
'ALL BUSES CANCELLED'.
I loved that same announcement
 when my kids
were at home.

I guess I have never got over that feeling
of a
SNOW DAY
being a
BONUS DAY.

6. I love ... reflection

Not the 'thinking' kind,

although that's okay too.

 I probably should be spending

more time in that activity.

It is of the

mirror image

that I speak.

If there is reflection,

there has to be
stillness
and

light.

I suppose that is relevant 

to the thinking kind as well.

In darkness it seems

that I do not gently reflect;

I am all over the place,

digging up random bits.

If I have a candle flickering,

I calm my mind

and reflection comes

easier.

But I digress.

The reflection of the image.

That is what I see,

dismissing the original;

looking

for the subtle differences

upside down;

watching

how the most gentle movement

can shift and distort it

but still

maintain

its 

recognizable form.

And perhaps even make it
more interesting.

5. I Love ... trees

Pick one thing.

Only

one thing.

You must live

without the rest.

One thing

in nature,

you get to keep.

How difficult

to let go of the water,

the lake,

rivers,

the sea.

Tough choice, but

I would have to choose the

Tree.

God's best sculpture.

Strong and enduring,

yet fragile and mortal.

Functional.

Protective.

Shade and birds

and 

beauty.

New leaves;

blossoms;

full leaf;

fruit; 

autumnal tints,

naked and barren.

Each and every

stage and season

necessary,

valued,

cherished.

And then upon

death,

still giving

in new and different forms.

Every bit as valuable.
And a chance even moreso.

Giving the very most of a life,
from seed to the end and beyond.

4. I Love ...clotheslines

That's no secret.

My love of clotheslines

is well documented

in the four books 

that I have created.

I love

what they represent:

family,

home, 

simplicity.

Days when we took 

time

to let 

nature

orchestrate a bit of our day,

our life.

Soft breeze.

Sunshine.

The fragrance

of freshly washed bedding
when you climb
between the sheets.

I love 

driving around the countryside

and spying a line
that tells a story.

I love 

that some areas

still have wash day on Monday.

You only know that because of

clotheslines.

Dryers tell nothing.

I love the 

act

of hanging out the wash.

Co-ordinating it.

I have loved
watching
my line change over the years.
Growing.
Growing.
Growing.
In number and size.

Diminished now.
But every so often,
once again,
a little pair of sleepers.

3. I Love ... sunrise

I don't see that many.

I should arrange to see more.

I could arrange to see more.

There's no reason I don't

other than the fact

that I would actually have to rise

earlier.

Which I could if I didn't stay up

half the night.

But when I do rise

and see the sun do the same,

it is a glorious thing indeed.

It's not just

the colours

that make it

wonderful,

beautiful,

remarkable,

but the simple fact that the day

is so much longer.

Those few hours before 8 am

are such a treasure.

A treasure that is within my grasp

every single day,

if I would
rise.

Sometimes,
even if you do

LOVE 

something,

you don't grasp it

and hold it.

We should.

2. I Love ... writing

I suppose that's why I have such a vast - oh yes,
 VAST

collection of journals.

That definitely will be another 'LOVE' entry.

The pure quantity of them justifies its own space.

I need to stick to the topic with this LOVE book;

with this little exercise designed to help me

keep it brief, within the space ... concise.

AS IF my thoughts are ever

that.

This is to be an exercise to write;

to arrive at the page

and Begin.

I Love to write.

For me it is a quiet time with Me.

 Me and my thoughts.

Pen to paper.

Minimize distraction. 

Harness the chatter in the skull.

I find it

peaceful,

meditative,

healing,

inspiring,

therapeutic,

productive.

 Sorting out all those words

and thoughts

and events

that I carry in my poor old tired head
brings me pleasure.

I love to write.

I always have.

1. I Love ...that the dates don't match

I love that I can let go of the expectation to use this book

'as intended'.

That I can be a rebel

and chart my own course.

That sounds like a stretch to go there

from just daring to write 'differently' in this book.

It's not really.

It's been an evolution for me.

It has taken a lifetime to feel the freedom to

not 'fill in the blanks' as expected.

I could so easily have been one of the people
who do that

forever.

Always do what is right and proper.

And expected.

I lacked confidence and self-esteem.

I was an introvert to the enth degree;

 as a child, as a young adult too.

I almost said

'I wonder when I changed.
I wonder how I changed;
how I grew?'

But actually, I know.

It's because

I Love.

To Know That Love Is All There Is ...

It’s no secret that I am a Journal Junkie. 

I fall in love with the style and the feel,
scoop it up 

and THEN figure out what I will do with it.

Two years ago I came across a sweet little gold embossed leather-look one 

with the ever-so-cool magnet clip that tickles me. 

I certainly didn’t need yet another daily calendar for 2012 

but I bought it anyway and waited for inspiration. 

It came quickly.

At the top of each page I wrote: 

“I Love” …

 and then proceeded to fill each one 

with the many, many, many things I love.

It kept me in an aura of gratitude.

 It proved to me that the

 joy and celebration 

of my world 

is in the small, everyday things.

I decided that this year

 I would transfer my journal over to this form for a couple reasons.

 It’s a good exercise for me to commit 

to writing and working with photos every day – 

it gives me something to show for my year.  

And in the end I will just have to click a button 

and will be able to publish it in a more legible book form that my little journal.

 I love that!

We have Big Love for our family and friends of course … 

but there are a million other

 random little things that 

light our lives and stir our hearts.

 It is my hope that this might move someone else

 to think about that 

which delights and inspires 

them on a daily basis.

I already have chosen the words to go on my headstone at the end of my days:

To know that Love

Is all there is

Is all there is

To know.

This is what I have Loved.