Cotton Candy

This ornamental cherry tree is a symphony of pink in the front yard at Penuel Ridge. I'd hoped to catch it in the morning sun, when soft golden rays highlight the varying hues of pink. But alas, it's been overcast and stormy throughout the day, so use your imagination. Oh and while you're at it, imagine 1,000 bees swarming above my head as I took these photographs. They weren't the least bit interested in me what with a cotton candy tree in full bloom.

Intention

• I want to be able to hike this land with vigor.
• I want to drive past the handicap parking space and walk from the farthest point to the front door.
• I want to sleep through the night and wake renewed.
• I want all the resources to say 'yes' to restoring me to health and wholeness.
• I want all this or something better I have yet to imagine.

These are my intentions.

Waking at 4 a.m.

I dream of dancing
until the dizzying effect
of being waltzed around
the floor wakes me

and I lay there, in my bed
wondering how gravity
took hold, again

in limbs that long to sway
to glide in the arms of another
taller, stronger dancer

than me

Forsythia

The way the forsythia tumbles at the base of this old stone wall is poetry.

An explosion of yellow

(no Photoshop folks, just pure color)

To Be a Bee

Driving down a hill and around a curve, the sight of this tree back lit by the morning sun makes my heart sing. Every spring, I've tried to photograph it, but either don't have my camera, or the light isn't right, etc..., etc..., etc... On Sunday morning, I awoke to blue skies and brilliant sunshine. Mocha and I set out on road trip to capture the essence of Spring in Tennessee. This was my first destination.

Here's a closeup of the blossoms. So dense you can hardly see the branches and such a soft, subtle shade of pink. I'd like to throw a blanket under this beauty and stay until the last petal falls.

Spring in Tennessee

It Always Come in Threes

It's been a big day at Texas2Tennessee. I'll be concise. If you want more details, kindly leave your questions in the comments...OK?

Here we go:

1. My sister's been having some health problems. Today she had a biopsy and will have the results tomorrow. Nothing like having a big needle stuck in your throat five times.

2. I'm one step closer to being approved for a state program that would pay for knee replacement surgery.

and...

3. My nephew was released from prison today.

I think my mom's been on her knees praying all day. When I talked with her this evening, she sounded completely spent.

More cringe-worthy news to follow as it unfolds.

Hope everyone out in the Blogosphere is doing OK. We're expecting 1-2 inches of snow tomorrow...and I just thought Spring has arrived.

She's Touching Me!

On the same trip to Cowpens National Battlefield, we came across this log cabin, built around 1828. Located at the edge of the battlefield, it was home to Robert and Catherine Scruggs and their eleven (11!) children. Let me tell you something folks...I looked inside and have no clue where or how 13 people fit in this space.

Mocha, Zoe and Kenzie take a breather on the back porch of the Robert Scruggs House after our long walk through the battlefield.

Witness

This ancient tree stands on the edge of the Cowpens National Battlefield, the site of a Revolutionary war battle in 1781 that was "the turning point of the war in the South." From the literature I've read, it's doubtful this tree stood witness to the carnage. But to me, its twisted, contorted trunk looks as if it has drawn the agony of war out of the soil.

From a distance, the branches looked barren but a closer look revealed a reddish halo of spring buds that will morph into abundant shade.

Sense Memory

Jelly beans have been one of my favorite treats since I was a tiny child. Maybe because candy was seasonal in our house, present only at Halloween, Christmas and Easter.

Even as an adult, I couldn't wait for bags of jelly beans to be stocked in the grocery store. I'm not a jelly bean snob, but do like Russell Stovers the best. They're made with fruit pectin which gives them a sour kick to go along with the sugary sweet coating.

Last night I went to the grocery store to pick up a few items and found myself on the "everything you need to build an Easter basket" aisle. On the top shelf I spied the familiar pink bag of Brach's jelly beans. Not having had any for quite a while, I bought a bag and was soon ripping it open in the parking lot. My memory was that each color had a distinct flavor and recalled trading the dreaded black jelly bean for my sister's pink ones, luckily she likes licorice.

As I began to chew, anticipating a flavor explosion and rush of happy childhood memories, the saying "you can't go home again" popped into my head. They didn't taste very good, in fact all I could taste was sugar. Thinking maybe I'd gotten a dud, I tried a few more with the same results.

Very few things I put in my mouth taste the same as they did a few years ago. You see, I lost my sense of smell which has affected my sense of taste. So I guess I'll cross jelly beans off the list, which never seems to stop growing.

For someone like me, who had often found solace in food and elevated cooking and eating to a sensual experience, loosing ones sense of smell and taste is a body blow. It took me a while to see the silver lining, which is the realization that food is not love and food is not my friend. Simply put, food is fuel.

This morning, the opened bag of jelly beans slumped on the kitchen counter where I'd left them. I tried one more in the faint hope that flavor (and memory) had seeped in overnight.

Nope and that makes me a little sad.