From the Artist

As I drove to work last Friday morning, there was a hypnotizing mist in the air and everything was covered in a deliciously, fuzzy frost. I made a mental note to call the Artist when I arrived at work and ask him to take some photos for me. And of course, like most mornings, by the time I arrived, an hour later, I had forgotten. It was mid-morning by the time I remembered and I was sure most of the frost had dissipated so I relegated the notion to my missed opportunity drawer with hopes I might remember to peek inside again next year.

Sometimes, however, he and I are traveling on the same wavelength, because when I arrived home that evening, he quickly told me that he had captured some pictures for 'the blog' that morning. How's that for intuition?

Those of you who are recent Rural Revelers may wonder why I call my husband the Artist. There are as many reasons as there are ways he shows his creativeness around the old farmhouse. And although he doesn't pick up a camera as much as he does a paint brush anymore, I'm tickled to treat you to his view of our neck of the woods on a frosty Friday morning.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


 ~Be well friends~