Day 257 of 365

I'm into before and after pictures. I've taken them of kitchen cabinets, the downstairs TV room, and look at them on home improvement websites. Slow and steady changes don't impress me nearly as much as the radical changes that show up in those kinds of pictures.

When I got up this morning, I planned on taking another set of before and after pictures. It's time for us to clip our roses down low for winter, and what better way to document what I accomplish in the garden but with pictures.

So I took that "before" picture, knowing the "after" picture wasn't going to be coming until I was finished with the roses - and that might be a week or more from now. Took that picture, then got to work for a while. Filled up almost a garbage can full of dead canes.

On the way out of the garden, I found something I'd never noticed before. In 10 years. Never knew it.

Usually in the fall, I'm not working in the garden much. School is in full swing and I've always been someone to put my all into it. Which leaves nothing for the garden. Or the family. (Yep, my priorities were out of whack.) Then two years ago, I hurt my back in the fall. Definitely no working then. Last year I was in the sling because of the shoulder surgery and no working in the garden.

So this is really the first time in a very long while I've done any type of work outside in November. And wouldn't you know it, I learned something new.

We have these burning bushes. One is out by the fence (that's the one on Day 224) and then we have a couple right at the entrance of the rose garden. They're a good bush in the summer, and I love their bright red leaves in the fall. But as I found out today, there are more to them than just their leaves.

As I was exiting the garden I noticed these bushes also have gorgeous orange berries with purple coverings.

In all the years we've had these burning bushes, I never knew it. And if I hadn't forced myself to work outside today for a bit, I would have missed such a colorful sight.

Day 256 of 365

While lots of things happen in the movie Thelma and Louise, there's a line that has resonated with me. My idea of happiness, contentment, bliss.

We'll be drinking margaritas by the sea, mamacita.

I always thought if I had no worries, no responsibilities, and could drink margaritas by the sea, things would be okay with the world.

One Thanksgiving I had the chance. My husband had a Social Studies conference in Florida the week before Thanksgiving. We traveled along and spent our days at DisneyWorld while he was in meetings. When the conference was over we went to Clearwater Beach for the Thanksgiving holiday. Stayed in a hotel right on the beach. And on Thanksgiving Day as we sat there by the pool, I drank margaritas. No worries, no problems, no responsibilities.

And yet, no bliss.

That thing I held up as the representation of what happiness would be, didn't turn out to be. I went all the way to Florida and had a great trip, but happiness in that very moment eluded me.

I think about happiness a lot. Or maybe it's contentment or bliss. I do know, now more than ever, that I'm more happy at home than anywhere else. It's not about the dollars in the bank, the stuff in my house, or the travels I've taken.

It's right here, right now. It's when I write, when I read, when I take pictures, when I sew. I'm just as happy sitting on the couch reading a magazine as I am sitting on a beach drinking margaritas.

Traveling through the town of Bliss with my mom, this sign (and the surrounding view) got me thinking about that happiness factor again. Dilapidated, run-down buildings and unkempt empty lots welcome us to Bliss, Idaho.

Not quite what I would define as bliss.