She's resting peacefully in a quilt lined planter box, relieved that the pesky little temporary kitten has disappeared. Her nose is marked by the faucet where she seeks liquid refreshment, whether or not it is turned on.

Having collected and saved a bunch of ephemera, I decided to start working on an altered book as a form of therapy following leaving a job I loved. The images and articles simply express the spiritual nature of the place I find myself now, with themes of dragonflies, psalms and sisters.

Yesterday was Andrew Carl Newsome's birthday. 10 ~ 10.

Dear Baby,

You would now be 34. A full grown man with a full life behind you and I can't help but ponder what that life would have looked like.

I now know that without the help of grief "experts" I came to the stage of acceptance of your death too quickly. My support team did not know what I needed. I did not know how to grieve your loss - and I still don't. Your footprints are all I have of you. Then, it seemed impossible to mourn for a baby I didn't get to meet and hold and kiss. Now I can. . . . .and I do. The wound is healing softly and gently. Thank you for your help. I still long for you. I'll always be crazy for newborns. Blessings and love this day. Your Mama.

Taylorbuilt. Made to last. My eldest grandson is a wonder on earth. Both of the these structures were built at local nature spots, inspired by nothing more that a big branch and then another and another. The one on the right has been there a year. I'm sure the park guys wonder. The other one is at Lake George and I wonder if the geese roost there at night.