Isabella Bird Miscellany

People come and go in our lives. Some, we spend time with for a short season, while others remain. My friend Cait, although I’ve only known her for a short time, has a way of leaving impressions that last an eternity. Back in January of 2017, we met up for lunch. She was preparing to take a trip. I don’t even remember where she was going. It didn’t matter. After we parted, I jotted down my thoughts with the full intention of finishing the poem. However, the more I’ve lingered with it, the more I love it in its incomplete state.  An ordinary lunch with an extraordinary person We ate tacos and pupusas and talked of adventures small and grand A weariness in her eyes as she prepared to leave  She’s brave and adventurous and vulnerable like a child all at the same time But then, aren’t we all? My friend, I’m so excited about the chapters you are writing in another place with other people. I hear your passionate words, “Stop the glorification of busy!” So tru...

follow the cross It’s Lent. It’s been Lent since March 1 st . I have my own private observations going on, and I just realized that next week is Holy Week. Like Advent, Lent holds a special place in my heart and spiritual rhythms. It’s the 40 days of preparation before Easter; a time to reflect, to cultivate gratitude, to focus on others and our relationship with the One who made it all possible, God. I have a daily prayer rhythm, dedicated quiet time in the morning, but Lent goes deeper. Last year I chose to add a practice to my routine instead of giving something up. For 6 weeks I tried to be very mindful of what was going on around me, in me, in people I know and don’t know, in my city and so on. My journal was filled with “mindful” phrases, sentences and paragraphs. Snippets from my journal: I’m mindful of … time, taking time, making time, capturing time, savoring time, enjoying time … being thrown around by my feelings. feelings are real, but they’re...

look at the birds, free and unfettered Earlier this week, after walking around the lake and stopping on the dock to watch the water, I was mindful of the rippled surface. It was still water, there was still a sandy bottom scattered with stones. It was the surface, not the substance that was different. Peace, be still – Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance

burst through a blow-hole at sunset, 2016 I’ve been to Yachats a number of times, staying at The Adobe.  It was always our go-to spot to celebrate our anniversary, and set our annual goals while watching waves crash thru vast picture windows. We would wander to Smelt Sands, the pebbly beach near the hotel. End of our Yachats story. we sat just behind the drift log and watched the sun fall into the sea Desperately needing to spend some time at the beach, I looked on line, decided our budget wouldn’t do well with our previous abode, and so chose an intimate Inn settled in the middle of town. It had good reviews and the walkability was off the chart, always a plus in my book. Did I mention the view of the sea? You know how there’s always the binder, like we used in school, with helpful information? Well, our room had that. The most interesting tidbit was typed neatly in courier, an “ideal spot for a stop in the course of a motoring trip along the breat...

Shaniko, a place where life still exists How do you get from point A to point B? Bus, plane, train, scooter, even our feet are a mode of transportation. What about when it comes to vacation time? Is it a matter of hurry up, rush, so you can get there all exhausted and really not ready to hit every major attraction? Me? I’m a road tripping kind of girl. When the kids were little, our family vacations always involved piling them, their stuffed animals, travel-sized games and tons of snacks into the car. We would carefully map out our stops to include restaurants with playgrounds, aka, McDonalds and our must-have on motels was a pool. be a law abiding citizen, or face the paddy wagon. i wonder if that would have worked with fighting kids? I have mixed memories of these road trips.  Mostly, I smile as I think about them, and then suddenly I'm jolted back into the reality of the “are we there yet?” question mingled with the “don’t breath on me” and I need to g...

my forever valentine xo I'm really a romantic at heart.  Not in the traditional sense, but when it comes to this man ... I swoon every day. soft brown, bordering on hazel, specks of green and gold fill his eyes dark lashes shading, encompassing, defending his eyes dance mischievously in cheeky pleasure Laugh lines creasing the edges, well defined from teasing wit emotions spill out of his eyes, salty, wet on his cheeks concern, attention, pain … and in sources of pleasure intense passion burns my soul when his eyes gaze at me want, thirst, intent words thru a glance there’s fire in his eyes at injustice and lack of common sense flashing anger, but it’s a slow happening truth and kindness permeates his eyes looking to find the best and the right his eyes are heavy at day's end, closing for the night sleep like a child, my love, my forever Valentine I love you, my darling.  You are always in my heart. Missy If...

"the best tree ever" he exclaimed! It’s the same story every year.  I look, I search, I contemplate.  Trees have to be pirouetted around so I can see all the angles.  That’s the Christmas-tree-lot-version.  This year, my fam is going out to cut a tree; very Griswald like.  In years past, this was our tradition, complete with a bonfire, thermoses filled with hot chocolate and mulled wine; hot dogs to roast on fresh cut sticks. Mostly, we’d tromp around in the woods, giving each potential tree a once over, until that “Hallelujah Chorus” moment arrived.   The only problem it was on the other side of an icy cold creek, with banks and drifts of equally cold and deep snow.  Well, hubby being the really swell guy that he is managed to cross the water without drenching himself.  He cut the tree, floated it downstream to a more appropriate place to bring it up the bank, to present me with my prized Noble Fir.  That was the sto...