Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

I (Heart) My Husband

He sweats for eight hours, caring for hundreds of trees and making medicine from their fruit. When he’s done, he comes home and shovels. Turns hard ground to make way for a family garden.

When a ten-year old asks him to pause and play soccer, he’ll spear the spade in the loose soil and give a hearty game. Run the field. Make and block goals. Laugh.

I’ve seen middle-aged ladies in mini-vans with bumper stickers that read, “I love my husband.” A pronouncement so conventional and ordinary, I’ve wondered why anyone would glue it to the body of their vehicle and drive about.images

But now I’m married. And at 40, I’m officially ‘middle-aged.’ I may not have a mini-van, but there he is. Washing dishes at the sink. Replacing rusty screws on my license plate. Whistling some soothing tune through his lips, all the while. So often he opts for “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

And here I am. This wife who’s ready to find her decal and proclaim her gratitude to the world. Never having thought that ordinary could feel so rare.

 

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 6 Comments

Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflection

2014-03-22_merlin reflection

Baby chicks are used to living in clutches, so it was recommended that we keep our orphaned peep, Merlin, company by placing a mirror in his living quarters.

After observing him for days with his mirror, I couldn’t help but sense that he knew he was looking at himself. And that the experience was rather profound, this gazing upon himself in all of his chickenhood. A rare opportunity in the lifetime of a rooster.

We’ll never know for sure if he was fooled into thinking he was with other kin. One thing’s for sure, Merlin was no ordinary bird.

2013-03-17beach_Merlin_Jess

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Riches of the Earth

Yesterday the sum total due became official. I may have picked up tax documents, but I opted to focus on the distant, gushing waterfalls that poured forth from the verdant cliffs that cradled the accountant’s office. Yes, this is what tax season looks like in paradise. And I chose to keep my eyes to the beauty, despite the larger-than-expected sum we are being taxed. Hold my perspective to the rich streams of water flowing, rather than dwell upon decimals and numbers.

After leaving the accountant, I stopped by our old dwelling. My friend stood there in the garden, overgrown with the eggplant The Bohemian planted there last Fall. She cut and clipped until my bag was overflowing, bursting with kale, cilantro, arugula, papaya, grapefruit, and plenty of eggplant.

Abundance abounds.

Value lives in that which we deem worthy.

What can rival the wealth of the earth?

Thanks to Bryanna Chapeskie’s blog, “The Home of Art” which featured the work of Deanna Staffo in a recent posting. This illustration says it all.

dstaffo5
illustration Deanna Staffo