Writer's Block, Gratitude, and Wholeness of Women

"Women's work is always toward wholeness."- May Sarton

Recently I gathered around the table with a group of women ( and Rodney, our male leader) for a celebration and gratitude dinner for our friend Brenda (above with a glimpse of Sherry). A group of us serves on a leadership team for the Northwest Inland Writing Project and we wanted to show our appreciation to Brenda for all she has done for the organization. As I sat around the table at the Sangria Grill in Moscow with this group I marveled at the intelligence, stamina, creativity, and determination that was a part of each of the people around the table.( Above are Bev and April, then Carol in the picture right above.)It was only fitting that we found Steel's Writer's Block wine to toast the occasion. We loved that The Bard was on the label. Good food, blooming roses, gifts, grandbaby pictures, and much laughter all added to the festive gathering. As women we do often work toward wholeness whether it is with our life's work, our families, or our friends. I felt that wholeness of women around the table that evening.

Favorite Summer Images Part 2: The iPod Ad

This is brother Raymond Pert having some fun with his niece's iPod the last day of our Oregon coast trip.

Farewell to Summer

Today on the calendar marks the last day of summer. Starting school always feels more like the start of autumn in my mind. Other signs of autumn are popping up all over. Silver Valley Girl got frost in Kellogg. The burning bushes are turning red at school. The Halloween store was open yesterday on Division Street in Spokane. We had a recent late summer rain, pictured above.

As I say farewell to another summer I wanted to post some of my favorite images of the Summer of 2009.
This was my favorite bouquet. our first tomato the ivy geraniums hanging by the garage

the lilies of July a favorite view of the Oregon coast the dogs first run in the ocean
a first rose of June the vivid color of morning gloryon the deck at the writing retreat

Images of a Road Trip

Friday was a beautiful day to do a road trip. As I waited for the ferry to reach our side of Lake Roosevelt I was able to snap some pictures. The Columbia Princess had a light load as it headed for the Inchelium side.The lake sparkled like diamonds that afternoon.
I was treated to a beautiful sunset after I arrived in Moscow.
Walking around campus Saturday I couldn't help but snap pictures of the buildings, especially the ivy-covered Administration Building. It was a week-end full of friendship, good food, good cheer, and good work.

Back to the Palouse

a farm along the Palouse that I caught images of last summer

I love to drive from Spokane south down Highway 195 through the Palouse country. With a warm, almost autumn day, and sunshine predicted, it should be a drive to behold as I travel that route tomorrow. I am headed to Moscow, Idaho for a gathering at the University of Idaho. I will have my camera ready to catch some beautiful scenery, sites on campus, and images of friends. I can't wait.

a farmhouse with a lovely white picket fence

a rainbow arching the sky after a storm in Moscow

Here

Do you ever wonder about where you really belong ? People often write about a place where they feel at home. It might be a summer place, a favorite lake, or their hometown. It might be their childhood town or the first home they bought themselves. I was giving a woman a tour of our place today and as I described the changes we have made and the way things have been added and taken away, I thought about this place I call home. Is it Here that I will always belong? Will I return to another place that was Here at a younger age? Is Here a physical place or something more?
Jane Kenyon's poem started knocking around in my head. Enjoy her words and images in the poem Here.

Here

You always belonged here.
You were theirs, certain as rock.
I'm the one who worries
if I fit in with the furniture
and the landscape.

But I "follow too much
the devices and desires of my own heart."

Already the curves of the road
are familiar to me, and the mountain
in all kinds of light,
treating all people the same.
And when I come over the hill,
I see the house, with its generous
and firm proportions, smoke
rising gaily from the chimney.

I feel my life start up again,
like a cutting when it grows
the first pale and tentative
root hair in a glass of water.

-Jane Kenyon
from Otherwise: New and Selected Poems