Things I am grateful for:  a warm fire and my curly tail girls who don't have a problem with enjoying the fire either.

I'm off journaling by hand and cleaning.  Who knew the cleaning bug would strike?  It just flew in and I now have spare flat surfaces in my office and a sparkly nice place to make jewelry.  I had my inside studio all straightened up to receive my bead making apparti (appartuses?) and Husband woke up the next morning and said:  you should do your beads in the garage because there's a sprinkler system there (the guy who built this house lived here for 8 years with a shop in the basement garage).  Then several girlfriends who have worked with oxygen and propane said, "yes, garage."  Now there's a major undertaking.  So I guess I had to clear out a space in my regular work area before I could even think about tackling the garage (which was doing pretty good until we rented the cottage and brought stuff back from there which is sitting on my side of the garage and then I had several shows last fall in quick succession as well as loading in and out of galleries for fresh work and, wah-la, a super mess. 

So today I'm going to give you some pictures from our trip back home from the Poconos.  We thought we'd traveled every possible road over the years but found ourselves on a short leg of Route 23 in PA and drove past this lovely little town and had to turn around and go back and look.  This is main street which is pretty much the whole town (there's some sprawl up the mountain behind it but this is the lovely part).  Unfortunatly my camera died while we were walking and snapping, but I think there's enough here for you to "get the picture."  Enjoy!

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If any of the picture aren't open, just click on them – they'll open then.  I'm getting odd messages and some of the picture just don't seem to want to open in this window.

thought for the day:  To the contemporary mind any acknowledgement of the fairy world sounds naive.  Yet at a metaphoric level, recognition of the fairy world is recognition of the subtle presences that inhabit the interim places in experience, the edges of time and space impenetrable to the human eye.  our clear-cut vision imprisons us.    John O'Donohue, Eternal Echoes:  Celtic Reflections on our Yearning to Belong