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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.


A Short List


I spent a great deal of time driving this last week; well, to be honest, BC spent a great deal of time driving while I sat in the front seat and did the "mom smacking hand thing" behind me whenever the pups got too rowdy in the back.  We trekked down the coast and into the central valley to spend our time with BC's family, playing Apples to Apples, talking about Chinese skin analysis, and running the dogs in the back forty.  The weather was temperamental but the wood stove cranked and we fell into home.
The Oaks...
This is Pure Joy
All that to say, Thanksgiving may have passed in a gentle flurry of homemade cranberry sauce and bread pudding, but I still have gratitude to give.
Valley Gifts
So today, as I watch the clouds roll in and the furnace grunts and lurches, I am thankful:
for two fully functioning hands
for espresso
for living with the redwoods
for the love of the best man I know
for whiskers that tickle my face in the morning
for copious houseplants
for a clear mammagram (just got the most recent results last week!!!)
for beasts who make me laugh day in and out
for T, C, J, K, A, M, you know who you are
for a studio
for families who honestly love each other
for letters in the mail
for sheepskin boots
for communities across the globe who inspire and encourage me
for pomegranates
and for you.
SO much for you my friends.
I am grateful.
An Autumnal Cascade