• batman's birthday party, with 11 people gathered 'round the tables
• the seventh anniversary of the finding our "bit of earth"
• batman's semi retirement
• all three daughters and their fabulous friends here
• garden bounty
• playing corn hole
• lightning bugs
• fireworks (that may have been procured across state lines) 
• the first bonfire of the season
• laughter and love
• a magical summer evening
• (oh, and don't forget the maple creamies!)

June joys, counting our blessings, being in the moment...

*with special thanks to Hannah and Lindsey for some of these photos.

june joys:sewing

A while back I was delighted to win a blogaversary 

bucket giveaway over at maya*made,

and I got to pick from several motifs,

 so I asked for scissors.

The bucket catches spools, bobbins, safety pins...

whatever my current project requires.

Maya's is one of the first blogs I ever started following,

and it remains one of my favorites.

I thought it only right to send her a little treat as well,

so this morning I made some balsam sachets,

with needles from our very own trees.

I followed instructions in this lovely book,

a gift from our Stewart and his Dawn.

I added my own homemade birch bark buttons,

because I am pretty sure Maya will appreciate them.

Most of my sewing supplies are still packed away, 

waiting for a rehabbed sewing studio,

and my wrist has recently been freed 

from a cumbersome splint (ugh!), 

so I was really, really happy to get this simple project done.

june joys:farmer's market and launch of the rehab blog

micro greens

2 quarts of strawberries
(one already made into strawberry pie a la batman)

asparagus

a dozen eggs

a jar of pickled beets 

a rosemary plant 

amazing cheese

all from the norwich farmer's market.

THEN,

we went to vermont salvage.

read about it here

at our brand new blog

Our home in Vermont

sunrise on the summer solstice.

This color.

This color that is June.

This color sprinkled around the yard

has woven a conspiracy to intoxicate me.

And then there is this.

Battered by the trip in the passenger seat of 

moving van #2, we thought our Meyer lemon

might be a goner.

But six weeks later, the breezeway is

filled with the scent of its many blossoms.

It sits on our three season porch next to my 

grandmother's Christmas cactus, both now official Vermonters.

As the solstice approaches, it is best to pay attention to these beauties.

Before we know it, the sun will soon pull us to the other side of the year.

• drifts of pollen, golden in the breeze, rising from the pines.
• the bluebirds, one bright blue and one muted grey/blue, paired on the deck railing.
• local strawberries, the first of the season, tucked into my market basket.
• laundry on the line, one of my favorite icons of rural life.
• the hum of neighborhood tractors, mowing the first hay of the summer.
• lightning bugs dancing at dusk, and into the night.
• awakening to a ferocious thunder storm, with winds wild enough to warrant closing the windows.
• flowers in the gardens and flowers in the house

June days slip by even as we recognize the joy they bring.

kale for my green smoothie at breakfast.

the first of the rhubarb...

stewed into breakfast compote and ladled the next day

 over plain yogurt and sprinkled with chopped nuts.

extremely local food.

june joys.

(for oodles of rhubarb recipes,

click here).

batman, 1980.

your heart and my heart

are very, very old friends.

-hafiz

yesterday we enjoyed an early celebration,
lunch at the very posh woodstock inn.

happy 35th anniversary, batman.

we are so blessed in life and love, you and i.

xo

yesterday morning,

when i sat up in bed

and looked out the window

this is what i saw.

sometimes i wonder why we venture out 

into the big wide world.

 but then i realize that when we do, 

it is still magical vermont,

even here in the capital city,

where the statehouse backs up to the woods.

that's ceres,

the goddess of agriculture

standing on the top of the dome.

(no gmo's!)

and at the montpelier farmer's market,

while buying some earrings and chatting with

the artist, i realized he's an earlham grad.

 such a lovely, small and wonderful world

we live in.

be still my heart.

this is rhubarb-ade.

does anyone have the recipe?

one of the best things i have ever tasted.

june.

it is indeed filled with joy.

her fawn is so tiny that it got lost in the grass.

we think they live safely tucked in our balsam orchard.

this is why we plant trees.

to invite the sacred into our neighborhood.

a flash of brilliant blue.

then he sat there for a few long minutes.

an omen, i hope,

the bluebird of happiness.

heavy fog in the morning,

blue sky, sparkling white clouds at noon,

tumultuous wind and swirling clouds at dusk.

 all this beauty.

it can fill a person right up to the brim,

and leave one quivering at the brink of spilling over the rim.

Inspired by the ever lovely Anne at My Giant Strawberry and her Joy in June series, I'll be keeping it short and sweet here this month. Just snippets of beauty, gratitude and joy. This feels right for the gentle days ahead.