I live on a farm …

Sounds of springtime

His name is Blu … our five-month-old puppy. He came to live with us one week ago, and of course, he owned us completely before his first twenty-four hours concluded. Someone in Florida rescued Blu because he began his life living in a crate in someone’s apartment. He was only allowed out of the crate to eat and do his business.

He made his way up to western New York after being rescued, and found his way into our home and hearts through our friends Andy and Mabel from church.

Oh, such love. Such adoration circulating amongst us.

[I made a recording of the peepers and the geese and other wildlife as we walked around the farm with Blu last evening. I do not yet know how to imbed it in my text so that it plays automatically. I will learn. For now, if you want to hear it, all I can do is offer you a file to download. You could do that and then play it while you read, if you wish. It is a little over two minutes long. When I downloaded it to my computer, I then had to right click on it and choose “Play with Media Player” in order to get it to play properly.]

When he first arrived his tail did not wag, but now it wags quite freely. He climbs up into my lap over and over and over again as I attempt to work at my computer. Sometimes he actually wraps his paws around my neck and holds on as if he were a small child or a monkey.

There is a chair in the living room at the farm designated as “the dog’s chair”. Other dogs have owned that chair before him. Our intention has been that when we were graced with a dog in our lives, he or she would have that dear chair for their own and we would not allow said dog to get on the other, “good” furniture.

That lasted about 23 seconds after my husband came home from work the first day Blu was here. I left the two of them alone in the living room for only a moment it seemed, and when I returned there was Blu in the good recliner with my husband, all snuggled up and exchanging love.

Oh well. Who could say no to this precious taupe colored bundle of gentle, devoted love. Neither of us can.

He was given to someone as a Christmas gift, but that someone did not want a dog. Fool, absolute fool. That is why he was condemned to a life of confinement. This creature with such an abundance of love–ready, willing, and able. Wasted on someone who had to have been spiritually deaf, blind, and dumb.

The first morning he was here, I took him out on a walk all around our farm and I said to him, “This is yours, Blu. All of this space, all of this freedom, this farm … it is yours boy.” He knows, and it shows in the appreciation he flows to us through his deep pool blue eyes and affectionate little ear and face snuggles.

Last evening, during golden hour, we walked around with him listening to the peepers, the geese, and many other creatures. The willow glowed, bathed in the evening’s golden rose-colored sunshine. Our impromptu pond reflected the blue sky and still bare , early spring vegetation.

Everything is coming back to life. Each morning and evening the din of voices rings out louder and louder … nature is out there whooping it up all around our property, in the trees, and down along the river.

My year in this place has come near full circle now–I first came to meet my husband and see the farm on March 30 last year. Now here we are all married and dogged up, and enjoying our first full-on springtime together.

Much of the time, you have been here with me, my dear reader. I enjoy your company and appreciate your kinship. So many of you have taken the time to express your thoughts about inspiration, aesthetics, gratitude, and friendship related to my humble contributions to the universe of blogs. It is all so encouraging; I feel truly blessed in so many ways including the knowing of you.

I would like to make one note about an issue that may have troubled some of my readers. A comment was made the other day by someone that my blog is somewhat less than genuine now because I am attempting to sell various things (paintings, yarn, one of my critters, advertising at my I Live on a Farm dot com website).

I do realize others may feel the same way.

At first, I was perturbed about the comment. It hurt, in actuality. I thought about it quite a bit and wondered if I should bring the subject up or leave it alone. I have decided to bring it up, because I think that attitude can affect others than just me adversely–so I speak.

Creative people, artists, earn their living (hopefully) by selling some part of their creativity and talent … exchanging something valuable for some money and then they have money to use to pay their bills, buy food, clothing, etc.

In my case I spend sometimes thirty hours or more in a given week writing the blog, shooting the photography, editing the photos, uploading everything, answering emails, planning new patterns, testing new designs, writing up patterns, testing recipes, writing them up, working on various elements of Gracious Parcels. Sometimes it has required more than thirty hours a week.

People seem to appreciate the effort.

When I am working on the blog and all of the related things listed above, I am not working for paying clients in my freelance writing business. This blog has taken over so much of my life, I have neglected to continue to create my freelance business. Something has to give, that is just the way life works.

At the first of the year, I faced the reality that I would need to extremely reduce what I was doing with the blog, or work out a way to make it bring in some income to replace the clients I am not serving now.

It seemed worthwhile to try to keep the blog going, because so much good seems to be coming from it for others. Several people have started their own Gracious Parcels projects, people have used my free patterns to make gifts for people they love, something about the things I have written inspire some people to make positive changes in their own lives, my words have soothed some number of aching hearts, given hope to others who are lonely, given some a nice little break from an otherwise tedious day.

If I have offended you in any way by attempting to find a way or ways to generate income from this work I do, the very cool thing is that you can withhold yourself from reading my blog. I will, and do, respect your choice in the matter.

Remember please: I am a professional artist and writer. This is my trade, and I am proud to be able to earn my living with my creative talents. It is a good, positive way to live.

We need more art, more creativity, and more inspiration in this aching tumultuous world. Artists make that happen. Their creativity soothes and makes sense of a troubled world.

Artists should not be led to feel bad or dirty or morally corrupt for seeking monetary exchange for what they flow out into the world.

I will continue to do all I can to generate income via my blog and my other websites. I hope that others will be inspired by my ability to do so, to give it a try themselves. In this way we might all flourish and prosper.

Most of my readers have been tremendously supportive and given nothing but encouragement, and for that, I offer my sincere gratitude.

On that note, I wanted to show you a photo of the painting I mentioned in my blog entry this past Monday (a larger photo can be seen at my One Painting a Day blog). This painting, along with my critter named “Little Nana”, is up for auction at eBay. There are beautiful yarns over in the Yarn Shop at I Live on a Farm dot com. You are invited to browse, enjoy, and spend money if you see something you want, but only if you wish. You are also invited to continue to merely enjoy my blog and my free patterns and recipes without spending anything at all. I made it all for you, for free, because you are my friend.

This is 100% Pure, Genuine Firefly.

Have a beautiful day, my good friends.

~firefly