You know those shows where something happens, and someone starts laughing maniacally in response, forcing a bystander to slap her out of it? I fear I’ll be dangerously close to said reaction whenever someone mentions October 2011. I’ll spare you the details, except to say it was humbling.

Yet, as always, it was so much more.

In October we got a good look at Jupiter, frolicking with the moon in the autumnal night sky. Not to be outdone, the sun more oft than not . . .

It served a great spotlight for the changing leaves, photo walks, and a visit with a wee horse or two . . .

A good dose of sunshine also meant open windows, and the second wind needed to work off a bit of nervous energy. I washed baseboards, cleaned out closets, shredded old paperwork, took a load to the Idaho Youth Ranch, dropped off old batteries, fingernail polish, florescent light bulbs—even an old TV—at the household hazardous waste site, started cleaning out bins in the garage, and otherwise dusted out the cobwebs . . .

And even though I was woefully inept at Halloween festivities this year, I still found time to celebrate here and there. Mainly, six birthdays, two anniversaries, one fall colloquium, and one dinner with friends . . .

And let’s not forget the event that warmed all our hearts—welcoming baby Josiah to the world . . .

I guess you might say October reminded me that even though blackbirds may camp outside my door, the bluebird of happiness continues to sing in the background . . .

Still, to be on the safe side, do allow sufficient warning before bringing up the month in my presence. Thank you ever so.

September tends to get the short end of the stick. New school clothes attire August, a big ol’ party festoons October, but September? September is easily side-stepped, much like the awkward boy in P.E. with whom you pray you don’t get paired.

And so it is, in each city and town, life quietly continues on …

The days shrink back; we may even find a leaf here and there, on the ground—hardly noticeable, and not the least bit worrisome …

Yet we know, our days of soaking in the rays are numbered. We may bemoan the fact, or kick it into overdrive. I opted for a quiet embrace, with long walks in the parks, and the snapping of photos, left and right …

To remember, or possibly, see for the first time …

It also meant a road trip; and more photos …

Where decay took on a certain beauty …

And meandering about a cemetery, offered a hint of intrigue …

With the last of the flowers cut and brought indoors …

The sun set on the ninth month …

A month forever linked with tragedy and often associated with depression, September seems contented to play second fiddle. Looking back, however, I see it’s really quite colorful in its own right.

Perhaps next year we should give it a bit more of a chance, non?

Dear August, You sucked.

Oh wait, that’s not at all how it’s done, now is it?! Please hold. {rewind}

Dear August, I feel as though you sucked.

Oh sure, you gave me flowers …

You made certain my days would be filled with friends and family; you even went so far as to throw in a cute animal or two …

But behind it all you were wily, slovenly, and otherwise up to no good …

Just when it would appear we might be friends, you’d turn on me, like a Praying Mantis on her honeymoon. Remember that particularly hard day, when I slipped off the deck? Sure, I wasn’t that hurt; and laying in the grass bemoaning every injustice of the last three years may have been going a bit far. But it’s not like you were without fault. You, my friend, hit below the belt. 

Thankfully, the time has come to bid you adieu…

I’m moving on, forging ahead, shaping up and shipping out. And while I hope to never see the likes of you again, you tend to cast a broad shadow.

I guess that leaves me no choice, but to look up …

And trust that He will make my path straight—no matter how catawampus you may have made it appear.

Sincerely,

Amy

Upon it’s beginning, July seemed destined for a lasting and colorful story. After all, it began with a long weekend of fun and celebration…

Three whole weekends followed, each to fill with the likes of chalk art and old cars…

We even took advantage of the fact that July was National hot dog month {naysayers be damned; and seriously, who eats a hot dog every day anyway?} …

Of course, a dog is always better when you’re eating to help friends bring home their baby boy. Also better—getting gifts quite out of the blue. My mum gave me earrings and a bracelet—simply because she knows how I do so love a bit of sparkle…

Lift the flower on the bracelet and you’ll find a wee watch. It’s been so long since winding an honest-to-goodness watch, the thought actually flittered across my mind: how do you know if it’s a.m. or p.m.?

Yes, it was one of those months.

Perhaps simply reading of the whole National Debt debacle turned my mind to mush …

Perhaps it stems from the fact that I’ve read little more than Cliver Cussler—all month, people. And there’s no immediate end in sight. Still, thanks to a lovely brunch and book-exchange, I have a couple good options, when I can handle something with a little more substance … 

You see, if there’s one thing July taught me: I don’t do well in that in-between stage. If you would have told me that I would be in the exact same spot as last year, I would have scoffed. I may have even called you a ninny; because this year was going to be different. This year I would finally make it—I would move, nay, spring forward!

Alas, life moves at its own pace…

But slow as it may seem, it still moves—a little fact that hit me, in the sweltering month of July. So, while I continued trudging along, and continued clutching my fluffy-adventure novels, I began working on what I could. This included making a concerted effort to get off my ever expanding derrière and move.

Thankfully, most of our walk takes place in a neighborhood, where there’s no traveling over 25 miles per hour and no U-turns …

Slow and steady … that pretty much sums up the past three years—definitely the month of July. But really, when you think about it, that’s not a bad way to go about it. After all, it’s not so much when we arrive … so long as we keep moving forward …

After being stuck in-of-doors for months on end, I had big plans for me and my camera; big plans. For instance, I totally envisioned a trip to the zoo–all for a photo of a peacock, for this here color story. How clever am I? Alas, it didn’t happen. This is as close to a peacock as I got … it’s not even an animal, nor is it blue …

And we have the most beautiful birds visiting our garden this year; they’re black and yellow and red, with blue and green highlights. They chatter, and fly through the sprinkler, and otherwise make the most of summer–but the minute I grab my camera, they’re gone. I cannot tell you the failed attempts … or the various ways in which I attempted stealth mode to throw them off. All for naught, my friends. This fellow apparently felt sorry for me, for he stuck around to strike a pose …

The only photo that really turned out, was totally unintentional. I snapped a photo of a bird floating  near our paddle boat, all to take my mind off the fact that I was near dead. And I’ll tell you now, that water was not blue …

That’s right, I said paddle boats. Furthermore, it was a group of ladies and one child; there was absolutely no excuse for our behavior …

Though I must admit, it did make us laugh … albeit nervous laughter. After all, the thought of a paddle boat upping our eligibility for the Darwin Awards was funny … kind of …

But we lived to tell the tale. Dare I say, we even had fun …

That’s right, despite the continued uncertainty of July, fun won out. Mum and I took a road trip and visited a friend; we gloried in the beauty of Shoshone falls and watched the insanity of BASE jumpers. We finally got a miracle we’ve been praying for {more on that later}. We ate al fresco. We meandered the park. We had fresh flowers adorning our home. And I attended the annual car show, with my grandma and a couple of her friends, at “the home” …

I have to say, they really outdid themselves this year. One of the new additions was a 1917 Pierce Arrow; the owners had opened up the front so you could see the engine and what-not. ‘What-not’ including the horn–which was actually a horn–at which point I completely freaked out. Clapping, flailing my arms, and pointing, I exclaimed, “It’s a horn, an actual horn–as in a bugle!” That’s about the time my grandma and her friends shuffled off and the men looked at me as if to say, “Kids nowadays, they know nothing…” Well I just beg to differ: I do know a thing or two. If nothing else, I know a month that begins with a three-day holiday can’t be all bad …

So let’s make it a good one!

Oh April, where hast thou gone?

I’m not sure if it’s due the blocking of tax season, or the grey clouds that overcast a sky of blue, but most of the month was a blur. Still, the year managed to pick up some color.

It was in April that I tasted me some Ugli—I didn’t really love it, but tried it all the same…

In April, the brown grass turned green, and the scent of freshly mown grass began to permeate the air. It was almost enough to take the pain out of weeding … almost …

April gave our plum tree a chance to shine. For a moment in time, we forgot all about the mess of fallen plums or the abundance of suckers that must be plucked before they truly take root.  For one month, our plum tree was admired, rather than cursed …

Rain—and snow—filled most days in April; but when blue skies did peek through, we got out and enjoyed it.  After all, one must take advantage of the free Vitamin D …

The month of April even allowed my toes to see the light of day. Sure, the first paint job of the season was the worst ever and my feet nearly froze, but it’s a start …

As with many an April, the river ran high and the foothills stood green … our backdrop to celebrating our risen Savior …

For most of the month, the news kept a grim storyline: Japan struggled to recover, massive tornadoes hit parts of the US, leaving a trail of death and destruction—the state of the economy slugged along, gas prices hiked their way upward. Then Prince William and Kate gave us a gift—a royal wedding worthy of the title. Finally, we could watch the news and have something worthy of celebration …

Of course, us commoners had reasons all our own to celebrate. There were birthdays and baby showers; we even witnessed a miracle, as April was the month our friends were finally able to bring home their little girl from China. Of course, after months of hibernation we were a little rusty in our party skills. We had to take pictures of balloons belonging to another, mind you—still, I like to think we’re on our way …

So to April, cheers; to May, no pressure or anything, but here’s hoping you bloom away!

If practical jokes are suppose to be reserved for the first of April, then the joke’s on me. The whole month of March was a bit off kilter. Everything I put my hand to seemed to fail, fall apart, or impart some sort of injury upon my person. By the time I reached last Friday, the metal shower ring falling upon my head was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I stomped my foot and yelled to the heavens, “Is this funny to you?!”

Thankfully, He didn’t respond.  God is gracious like that.

In some ways, this little project kept me {somewhat} sane. You see, I’m nothing if not stubborn. I started this series, by George, I’m going to finish it … No matter that I didn’t feel like it. So out I set, camera in hand.

Funny thing—when you take the time to actually look, you just might find something you’ve never seen before …

And if there’s one thing March did, it made us look. It made us take a good hard look at our lives—our blessings and our sufferings, our insufficiency and our solidarity. Japan’s devastating earthquake and tsunami on March 11, reminded us that try as we might, we simply cannot be prepared for everything. There are things that come out of the blue with such force, we can’t imagine how we’ll ever catch our breath. It’s also those things that teach us the only way to survive, is with the help of each other …

Even the weather seemed to reflect the uncertainty of the world around us. The skies darkened, the wind whipped, and the rain poured. Just when it seemed grey was the new blue, the sun came out for a visit…

The Forsythia bloomed bright and full of cheer…

Other early bloomers joined suit …

There were even blooms in the most unexpected of places…

God’s sweet reminder that there is a time for everything under the sun: a time to weep, and a time to laugh…

Happy April, my friends!

And I’ll start with this apron from Pier 1 {please and thank you}:

My aunt gave it to my mum for Mother’s Day–and it’s ridiculously cute.  More so than the photo could ever convey. 

I wonder if my mom would notice it missing?  Or maybe I should buy my own…the vintage halter, perhaps?!