The Life that We Dream

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“I’m standing here in summer sun, where rabbits hide, and small quail run… I listen to the prairie’s song in every breeze that comes along.” – Betty Lou Hebert, “Prairie Gentian.”

In our youth, we imagine life turning out a certain way; we are full of dreams and less experienced. We set out to conquer the world. As we mature, experiences, good and bad, have placed some weight on us, influenced our desires and dreams, and our footsteps hold firmly to the ground. Steps become steadier and more careful, less rushed, and bit more planned. Some of us find ourselves living the life we dreamed, while some of us might not, and others might be half-way there. For many of us, the life that we dreamed once might not be the life that we want to live now. Whatever the case might be, dreams remain. The adage, “When you stop dreaming you stop living,” might have a bit of truth.

From small dreams to larger dreams, it all seems to propel us forward in life, whether we want a fancy life or a simpler life. There are setbacks, new dreams, and things don’t always turn out the way we dreamed or planned for, but this doesn’t diminish the preciousness of life, and each day presents a new opportunity to dream again; each day, an opportunity to do a bit better than we did yesterday. After all, and on the way to a dream, we become our own judges, that is, in relation to our dreams in life.

What does a 90-year-old person dreams of? Maybe what we all seem to take for granted – to enjoy another day. What does a person with a terminal illness dreams of? Maybe for one more day amongst friends and loved ones. A person contemplating suicide? Perhaps for a better day, each day. In the end, no matter what one’s dreams were about or how these turned out, we seem to ask for one more day. In perspective, that is all we have, one day at a time.

Photo by M.A.D.

Around the Garden

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The beauty that a garden gives in a few pictures.

Isn’t he gorgeous? (Photo by M.A.D.)
This year mushrooms grew everywhere, especially in the faerie garden. These are huge. (Photo by M.A.D.)
Size comparison. Unfortunately, these mushrooms decompose very fast, and they smell like a rotten corpse. Bees, flies, and ants are attracted to it. (Photo by M.A.D.)
Two decomposing stinky mushrooms. They will melt and disappear. (Photo by M.A.D.)
Pretty colorful ones too. (Photo by M.A.D.)
Mama Turkey and her adorable babies stopped by. Could not get a clear picture as they moved fast. (Photo by M.A.D.)
The blessing of early Mums. (Photo by M.A.D.)

All little things that make me stop and smile. Hope you enjoyed the pictures.

Love and Light.

A Single Flower

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Photo by M.A.D.

In as much as a single flower, exists a whole world, a world of color, patterns, texture, lines, dimension, shape and form, of beauty and awe, when you stop to carefully and mindfully observe it. It can only speak of the magnificence and magnitude of its creator.

Garden Friends

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It is always lovely to spot a few friends in the garden.

I have not seen these birds before, but they are adorable. The tail’s color is my favorite shade of blue.

The deer are always visiting.

“The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” Isaiah 58:11 NIV

Some Things are Meant to Be

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Some things are meant to be, simplicity, findings, and awe, with all the blessings of God.

Photo by M.A.D.
Mama Bird has been teaching her four babies how to forage for food and eat on their own. Sometimes, they want her to feed them, and she keeps on walking with them until they start pecking at whatever they find on the ground. There is a little one that has been a slow learner, and follows her until sometimes, she gives in and feeds him something. Photo by M.A.D.
From the garden. Blessings come in all sizes and colors. Photo by M.A.D.

Love and Light.

A Late Start

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This year, I started the veggie garden a bit later due to changes in weather. Too late for seeds now, and all my germinated seeds died, so I had to buy a few plants at the garden center. The prices were astronomically high at $3.95 for one tiny tomato plant. There are a few squash seeds coming out in the back area. We just threw them on the ground, and they took well. This year, the veggie garden will be very simple and with little variety. We planted tomatoes, sweet peppers, eggplant, potatoes, and onions. We also have a blueberry bush and planted two strawberry roots. The grape vine will produce fruit this year; right now, it is covered in tiny grapes. The lettuce came back from last year, and also a few tomato plants grew from fallen seeds. The Brussel sprouts did not produce last year but I left it alone for seeds; let’s see how that goes. Little birds have been eating them. Once it is done seeding, I will remove the old plants because these will not produce anymore.

We are planning to add a raspberry and blackberry bush, and maybe peach, pear, and apple trees in the future. The idea is to develop this garden over time, so we don’t overwhelm ourselves with maintenance; instead, ease into it slowly, and by stages. It is what we have been doing with the rest of the garden, overall. We also have to do some rearranging of the boxes and eliminate some containers that seem to be too small and not performing well enough, so we can make a better use of the space by configurating it better.

This veggie garden was built from recycled pallets. It has hold well over the years.
This is the area of the veggie garden before, when we bought the place.
The same area during cleanup, from another angle. Most of the overgrown bushes and weeds are gone; only the large cedar and ornamental grass on the picture remain today.
Now that the weather is pleasant, my husband gets lost tinkering outdoors, so I insisted on installing a dinner bell on the porch so I can ring the bell when he doesn’t hear my call. Practical, loud, and charming.

There are many other projects on the list for this year. Let’s see how many we can tackle before Autumn arrives. I will share some here. The labor of love will continue.

Critical Path by R. Buckminster Fuller

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Herbert presents Critical Path by R. Buckminster Fuller (Photo by M.A.D.)

Finally, I was able to decide what to read next, and selected Critical Path by R. Buckminster Fuller (1981). It has been sitting on the shelf for a while now and it was time to pick it up. It has been highly praised for many years and recommended. Now that the topic of climate change has become a change agent in many technological applications, it seems appropriate to read this one. Although a bit wordy and specialized, it is piquing my curiosity; moreover, it has been deemed an important book by many other authors I have read. That is how I became aware of it. So far so good, and hopefully it doesn’t become too wordy and lengthy for my taste and attention span. As a comparison, I may say, “Oh, it tastes so delicious.” or “My taste buds are experiencing pure delight and ecstasy.” It all means the same.

Here is a bit of the back cover, in case you are interested in reading it. It also tells a bit of his achievements.

On AI

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Photo by Maria Diaz

This post is about my feelings on AI (artificial intelligence) and the future of writing and publishing. First, I should disclose that I am biased, and also old-school. I am more like the character Will Smith plays in I-Robot. Of course, when new inventions have been introduced in the history of humankind, there has been distrust, inquisition, questions, trepidation, and so much more. Much has been said about AI, especially, during the past year, and by now most of you must be familiar with some applications in technology, including writing. My concern is with the future of writing and the quality of content, as well as the increase on an already saturated market full of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Must all be doom and gloom? Of course not. The same was said about print on demand and independent publishing, and here we are today. Saturation? Yes. I am sure that there are many benefits to AI, probably across and extended to all endeavors. Going back to the topic of quality and quantity, AI will be a best friend to those who want to make a quick buck while saturating the writing market with stories/content written at a fast pace and without care or soul.

That being said, so many questions arise, at least on my mind.

Will the publishing giants favor their own mass-produced stories?

Will freelance writers compete with AI on speed and delivery or will they embrace it?

Will they be paid less for their originality? What are the parameters for originality when it comes down to AI? Is it possible for AI to commit plagiarism?

Will readers appreciate a book written in what will become the “classical way” or will they become consumers of fast stories that might cater to their need for “more and quickly, please.”

Will the quality of stories suffer, or will it challenge writers? Will readers even notice?

Will AI become a favorite tool of writers or an archenemy?

Will it help with writer’s block or make it worse?

Will writers who care for quality and not quantity feel threatened by AI?

Will human writing even exist in the future or will “Robotina” kill the writer?

Of course, it is too early to tell, and I don’t have a crystal ball on my desk. As for this old-school writer, I believe that words evoke feelings, and that might or might not matter in a not-so-distant future.

Eagle’s Flight

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Photo by Maria Diaz

Today, I sat to write a post and I had nothing. My mind was blank, my heart felt heavy. As I was ready to close my notebook and throw the pen, the image of a soaring eagle crossed my mind. Then, I wrote.

Eagle’s Flight

Land of the Free

Land of the Brave

Beloved soil, beloved grave.

*

Sadness, despair, chaos everywhere

Tumultuous times

Ungodly affairs.

*

The eagle lands

Its tired wings

Signs of derail, never defeat.

*

A little while, a tiny rift

Its wings will flap

Its heart will heal.

*

Above the land, throughout the seas

The Eagle soars

In flight now, stronger it is.

A Beloved House, a Beloved Woman

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If you have followed, or stop from time to time to read this blog, first, I thank you, and I hope that you have received something from it, whether inspiration, and idea … When I set out on the journey of writing this blog, many years ago, I decided that I wanted to share some of my passions, as well as my journey as an independent author, but also to include another journey, that is, moving from the beloved Jersey shore to the Idyllic Virginia countryside, and the quest of fixing up a dilapidated farmhouse, which would become our home.

Throughout the years, I have met many people who have visited this home and shared stories of the previous owner, Ms. Lula Jane, and how fond they were of her and this house when she lived here. Some of these people have been part of the neighborhood since they were kids and visited her often. One of them described the place as the hub, the place to be, and were everybody ended up. She has been described as a very kind person who loved her home, a very tall woman who enjoyed walking through her beautiful garden. On many occasions I asked if anyone had any pictures of her or the home because my intention was to recreate what this home used to look like in the past. Unfortunately, throughout the years, renters, squatters, and abandonment had taken a toll, and the old farmhouse had seriously deteriorated to the point of becoming not suitable for living. You can see pictures of the previous condition and restoration under the topic “fixing an old farmhouse.” But mostly, I wanted to know more about Ms. Lula Jane, the woman who truly loved her house.

About a week or so ago, I had that opportunity. I received a surprise visit from one of her granddaughters, Ms. Saunders. She happened to be visiting the area on her way to Maryland, and asked if she could see the home where she grew up. It was a real pleasure to meet her. She seemed to have fond memories of her grandmother and of the home. I gave her a tour of the place, explaining what we had done with it. One of her remarks got my attention. She said, “Oh, it looks almost the same.” I was puzzled because we had changed everything and gutted the house, which was in very bad condition when we bought it. Later on, when we sat to converse, I asked her about it and she said that the home still felt familiar and almost as she remembered, even that the furnishings and overall decor were different. Indeed, we had not changed any of its layout. Her visit was not as extended as I wished it would have been; I wanted to know much more. She was kind enough to share some memories of childhood, and of her grandmother, whom she seemed to have adored. I found a connection with Ms. Lula Jane through her stories.

Ms. Lula Jane had traveled from England to the USA with the family she worked for; they took her with them when they moved to the United States. Her granddaughter said that she was free, and not under slavery in England. In England, slavery was abolished much earlier than in the USA. Later on, her grandfather, Mr. John Henry Robertson, built the home. This piece of information seemed to be in conflict with the information I had been given by someone else, but it wasn’t. It was all reconciled when I asked, and she explained that there had been an interracial marriage at some point. Now I had a more complete picture of the history of ownership of this old farmhouse, and I felt closer to the previous owner, both of us having some likes in common.

Ms. Saunders promised to share pictures of her grandmother and of the house if she came across any. We exchanged numbers, and I texted her a link to this blog so she could follow the restoration so far. She was able to clarify and answer some of my questions, according to what she knew, and I am grateful for that. In her excitement, she mentioned that she remembered how good the well water tasted, to what I offered to fill up a bottle for her to take home, which I did. The next day, I received a text from her. Attached, I found a picture of her grandparents. Finally, I was able to see the image of a beautiful tall lady, referred to and appreciated by many people, a cornerstone of this neighborhood. Thank you, Ms. Saunders.