Animal Messengers

my tipi lodge......



I look at animals that cross my path as messengers.

They tell me things, if I listen.  It happened again, just the other day..

Somehow, somewhere in my mind, I knew I'd find a friend waiting.

He knew I was coming too, on this beautiful day in June.

So the story begins with sunshine and cool springlike air in mid-June.

I am preparing the ground for the tipi raising, 

It will happen very soon.

I mow a slightly wandering path through my horse pasture,

the tipi will sit as far from the house as possible, on a level spot in the meadow.

This pasture is also know as the butterfly pasture, in the summer heat
it looks like a mirage of movement as they flutter around.

This spot where the tipi sits, was shown to me by an immature bald eagle, maybe

six or seven years ago.  Just after my order was placed for my eighteen foot tipi lodge.



A message of importance for sure, as he flew up from the spot where the tipi spends it summer. You see this message from the young bald eagle was one to take notice of,
we don't normally have bald eagles here........
He had much to share, another story for another day. 
I have gratefully embraced his messages.

On this day in June, I needed to move the stones that circle the fire ring. 

These stones are nearly hidden by the tall grasses.

As I pick up each stone that is seated well upon the earth,
I know I will discover the messenger waiting there. 



butterfly pasture.....

Only four stones left, humm... even the number four could be important here...



I find him coiled and without fright we looked at each other.  I understand his

message of transformation, the shedding of the old, the past.  He acknowledged

my cleansing and my journey to embrace a new chapter in my life.

We both paused and looked calmly at one other, message received and 

so he quietly took his leave into the tall grasses. 

Thank you my snake friend, as I offer some tobacco for his gift.





The Wind of My Soul

After almost a year of dreaming, painting, planning, writing and even some road blocks, a vision is coming true for two friends.  My dear friend, Peggy, voiced her idea of doing a book together as we casually sat on the porch at Wild Gourd Studio last summer.  She loves to write poetry and I love painting on canvas.  Her idea was to combine our talents and create "The Wind of My Soul".

The difficult part had little to do with the art of painting, I have more paintings than I know what to do with.  I just painted for my own pleasure and crossed my fingers that something would work for our book.  Peggy Hill, the author, has always been able to express herself in words, she has shared her heartfelt feelings about life and the results are amazing.  The poetry touches the spirit of every soul who reads Peggy's words.  The real effort came trying to put the two together.  It may have been easier if we didn't live in different parts of country, I live in south central Ohio and she in northwest Arkansas. 

After months of emails, phone conversations, hours of computer time to organize the book in the proper order, the vision came together.  I would like to thank Peggy Hill and her wonderful husband, John Two-Hawks for all their hours of effort.  I would also like to thank my wonderful husband, Richard, for his support in all of my creative efforts. 

The soft cover book, is now ready for you to purchase.  You can order from my website.  
Just click on the link at the top center of my home page   http://www.wildgourdstudio.com/   The book will not only take you on a journey, there is room for you to write your own innermost thoughts, making it your book too.  I know you'll love the spirit of this publication and I am looking forward to sharing our dream with you.

Website price includes shipping and handling and the first 50 orders from my website will receive a lovely gift!

My Little Brother

OMG, waiting on my little brother Michael to call was like a kid waiting on Christmas morning to come.  His lovely wife Jeanne told me that he was busy Friday morning and she and I continued to share information. 

Mike, age one....

Finally in frustration at spending so much time in front of the computer, I went to the studio.  I had a couple of packages to get in the mail and so I went out to get them ready.  I wasn't there five minutes and my phone tells me I have a voicemail!  It never rang, it just went to voicemail.  Of course it was that long awaited call from Mike, my brother.

I had to rush back in the house to get his number and call him back as fast as I could.  My heart melted when he called me "Cindy".  Oh, I've been called Cindy my entire life, in the last ten years, since I started selling my art I've been going by Cynthia.  I thought it sounded more "artsy".  To have him call me Cindy truly took me back to my childhood.  A brother should call me Cindy.

My handsome little brother.....

We talked about different things, I'm having trouble recalling just what we talked about, I was just so happy to be having the connection. I called my brother, Brian (who I did grow up with) and he seems as happy about this as I do and that is all that matters.

I am also anxious to make some sort of connection with my other two brothers, Mark and Mitch.  In time that will happen, I am sure. 

My brother, Michael Stephen DeRemer

Right now I am basking in the new found family.  


The Rest of the story,

I wrote the first of this continuing story on March 26, 2011 and today is June 7, 2011 and this is the next chapter.

DREAMS DO COME TRUE.....

This past weekend my new found brother, Michael Stephen DeRemer and his lovely wife Jeanne came to Ohio, they came to meet me and my family.  I am overwhelmed with love and gratitude.  To know he was as anxious to make a connection as I was, it is something I prayed for since the moment I heard him call me "Cindy". 

I have needed to make the connection to the other side of my family tree for a long time.  I totally believe that things happen in your life when you are ready, not always because you think you are ready, but when a higher power knows you are ready.  Not knowing anything about my birth father has been somewhat dormant inside me until very recently.  I have spent my entire life living as most of us do, not really thinking much about the past.  Then little things started happening, nudging my curiosity, perhaps it was time.

First it was the TV program "Who Do You Think You Are".  That lead me to Ancestry.com and then those little leaves started popping out when I put names in of people I'd somehow found that had been forever hidden... until now.  Distant cousins contacted me and really pushed me to start making calls.  I am forever grateful to them, it was so difficult to do.  I am not very brave when it comes to exposing my insecurities to strangers.

I have actually spoken with my birth father, Stephen Guy DeRemer.  The conversation was brief and not exactly what a daughter with a longing heart would hope for.   He did give me the name and number of his oldest son from his second marriage to contact about the family history.  My fear almost got the best of me.  What would he know of his fathers past, what would he think about having a sister?  Fear can keep you from moving forward, my distant cousins pushed me again to make a contact. 

Me, brother Mike and lovely Jeanne......

The rest is history, now a new chapter and a new memory in my life.  My brother is awesome and so is his wife Jeanne.  They spent last weekend at our home and we shared ourselves openly, authentically, and with love.  My heart is overwhelmed and fairly bursting with joy. 

All of our children and grandchildren came to meet their Uncle Mike and my new found cousin Gina came too.  We shared old photo albums with one another, we talked, laughed, and ate together, just like families do.  It was easy and it will flourish into much more, this I am sure of!

To say my heart is happy is very much an understatement of my feelings, sometimes there are no words for the way you feel.  I wish I were a poet and could write the perfect lines to translate my feelings.  Just know I'm happy and dreams do come true.  I love you Mike and Jeanne!

A Mother Goose Story



Some of my favorite mugs......



Once upon a time...........   I was a member of the Mother Goose Club.  This was a Home Extension Group in Greene County.  I remember joining when Ryan was just a baby in my arms, close to forty years ago.  The group was made up of women from the Cedarville area and all were fairly close in age and were doing the same things I was doing, raising a family.

Being in this OSU Extension group required monthly meetings, each meeting had a subject matter that one or two members would bring back to our club after they had attended the county meeting. 

As the years progressed, the size of the group grew and so did the number of children.  We held our meetings at each others homes and often hired a babysitter to watch the little ones while we held our meeting.

This was the highlight of my young married life.  I was able to interact with other mothers that were going through the same growing pains I was going through.  Of course after the planned subject matter was presented and talked about, things usually came around to our individual concerns and questions.  We grew close and became very good friends.  Living in the same community we found a common interest in the school, farm life and even church.  It was a wonderful time of sharing, taking care of each others children, fixing meals when friends were going through difficult times and even gathering as couples as time went on.  I will never forget my friends from that moment in time.

Funny how things change as children grow up.  Interests move to what our children are involved in and not so much about ourselves.  Membership changed, some friends could no longer participate, many homemakers who had children in school all day took jobs away from home.  New younger members joined and continued the Mother Goose tradition. 

All too soon, I participated less and less, kids events pulling me this way and that.  It was difficult to say goodbye to that special time.  Today, maybe twenty-five years later, I cut another tie to that past.  I cleaned a cupboard that kept protected and safe all my favorite coffee mugs.  I managed to collect mugs with geese on them.  I am ready to let them fly away, on another adventure.  I am donating them to a local coffee shop in Cedarville.  Maybe, just maybe, a former Mother Goose member will sip hot coffee from my mug and be reminded of simpler times, when our children were small and friends for life were made.