Aspiration, Garden, Ideals


Beanstalk Juliet Rome lifestyle blog

I spent this cold morning thinking about Edison bistro lights, white geraniums, white bacopa, ivy and the 2020 annual of the year, Euphorbia. Diamond Snow grows densely rounded. Diamond Frost, to which last year’s growing adventure attests, will weave and poke its bright spirit into anything. And somehow that all twined its way into my conversation with our daughter about Jack.

By way of an old-new property management company he has returned as the master of clean here. I shared with Jordan that even the visitor’s parking garage is now swept and ready for a first impression. He makes things shine. I like that.

Our conversation bloomed into talking about the first words a home speaks…whether the path to the front door says, I’m ready for you.

And now, returning from walking the circus pup, I’m thinking about our visit to a florist yesterday and how my winter heart turned green inside that tiny box of a store. I just knew from the many drives by its front windows it would be what I found. And I’m thinking about loss and distress, winter of any kind, when all the scaffolding around us falls, and how we need a beanstalk. Like of the English fairytale variety…something that might easily seed possibility into I’m ready.

“Jack, a poor country boy, trades the family cow for a handful of magic beans, which grow into an enormous beanstalk reaching up into the clouds. Jack climbs the beanstalk and finds himself in the castle of an unfriendly giant. Outwitting the giant, Jack is able to retrieve many goods once stolen from his family, including a bag of gold, an enchanted hen that lays golden eggs and a magic golden harp that plays and sings by itself. Jack then escapes by chopping down the beanstalk. The giant, who is pursuing him, falls to his death, and Jack and his family prosper.” From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


J. asked me to watch a short clip from a psychologist he follows. Watch here. It’s interesting to consider that sometimes the scaffolding falls and the loss or distress occurs because our lives have become too layered with complexities.


About Laurie

Laurie Carney is a strategist, writer, editor and account executive in her professional life. She is at home with her husband Jeffrey, also a strategist and creative director/writer, and silly rescue Poshie, Bonnie (aka Golden Bear). She has four beautiful children now that her son and daughter are happily married and three tiny grands playing starring roles.
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