Rose-Colored Glass

Seeing the world through rose-colored glass is more than a metaphor at Rooster Ridge. The serendipitous discovery of six, in tact, coordinating panes of circa 1900 stained glass alone is monumental—to our good fortune the glass panes magnificently portray  a garden lattice, designed with gorgeous climbing roses. The artistry and beauty of stained glass is unmistakable—the wonderful opportunity to incorporate a work of art such as this into our life—is nothing short of breathtaking.

Unless you are building a room or home with existing stained glass in mind or designing new stained glass panels to incorporate—the process of adapting existing panes to fit within your current window layout is the epitome of placing the proverbial cart before the horse! However, when you stumble upon a treasure such as this—the puzzle is worth the effort, time and expense. And, at moments—frustration and fear!

The largest of the six panes turned out to be almost a perfect fit for the large window in the entry foyer of The House at Rooster Ridge.

This glass is old—and has warped, becoming wavy and bowed adding to the character. Rather than attempting to install the fragile panes, we attached the vintage panels to the interior of the existing window frame. To create a finished product a secondary mahogany frame was built to encompass the stained glass.

Several reasons were factored into this approach—the panes are still able to be relocated should we ever choose to place them elsewhere. In addition the panes are very fragile and they are buffered from the outside elements by the existing window. The large stain glass pane is taller than the existing window and thus we needed to accept the imperfection of having the top horizontal frame of the exterior window visible. (Changing the size of the exterior window has been added to the wish list!) Sponsors anyone?

It is believed the six panels were in the outside wall of an arboretum in an old mansion in Pennsylvania. Two of the panes opened as french windows while the large center pane remained stationary. Following our philosophy of attempting to honor the original position of vintage pieces we utilized the two french window panes on two existing french doors.

The daily dining table is framed in this stained glass garden—and dining becomes an enriching experience. The amazing colors of the greens and reds are ever-changing with the nuance of light. The white trellis, when illuminated by sunlight creates a glowing milky luminosity.

Across the top is a horizontal transom decorated with a continuation of the traveling vines and flower buds yet to bloom.

The smallest two panels are one foot square transom window panes which needed a home—it was in their honor that two glass-pane french doors were installed. Working backwards, the transom was designed beginning with the stained glass panes. We located retro hardware of the original style transom window operating rods to complete the tribute to a vintage look.

At Rooster Ridge, just as all of humanity, we have struggles—yet we do focus on the opportunity to pause, reflect and try our best to see the world through rose-colored glass!

Symbolism Abounds!

The Lesson of Release

In our world today—and perhaps for all of mankind of every generation—our burdens are many. The adept management of the stress and challenges each of us meet as we journey through life often is the measure of our spiritual condition.

I have yet to discover a permanent consistency—and that in itself might be the most prominent of all challenges. We receive moments, glimmers, tiny openings and hints of peacefulness—spurring us on, encouraging us to forge ahead—to seek more such moments—longer moments.

Let us become grateful for those insights of comfort and serenity as we humbly desire the grace of more to come.

Let us seek peace for ourselves, for others and for all of humanity in every possible way we are able.

I wish you peace,


May I share with you an excerpt from;

Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

Written & Illustrated by Jeri L. Glatter

The Lesson of Release

On this day, we ask you to travel with us to the river where you will receive your lesson. This lesson shall become one of the most precious gifts you will receive. You will be taught the lesson of release, the gentle letting go and rinsing away. At the river, you may unburden your soul, as the waters carry away your worries, concerns, hurt, and when necessary, your misdirected ego. There is much that is not within your power. Though you may have love in your heart and good intention, grasping tightly prevents independence and freedom. You must allow for the right of all to practice self-will.

Through our life path, we are brought to the opportunities for growth. The varying topographies of our lives become our teachers. Why do we see truth in the belief that our task is to direct our course, or those courses of others, when we do not create any of those paths? We invite you to come to the river today to wash away your burdens, to learn the lesson of release. Hidden beneath the river, within the bedrock, is where the very first drops of peace are born—as release gives birth to acceptance, and acceptance, dear child, is the parent of peace.


I have recently developed an early morning custom—a foggy-morning-brain, first-sips-of-coffee-ritual—of reading Twitter! I admit it!

And yes, I also read pages from Lessons from the Trumpet Vine, practice a morning mediation and speak daily affirmations.

Twitter is my morning treat, it is my version of checking in with those who are traveling alongside me on this journey of life! Although I am aware the representation is a small sliver of the human population—I always find thoughts to ponder.

This morning, I noticed many were speaking (tweeting) about change—and not the kind of change that jingles in the bottom of your bag or pocket—annoyingly—until of course you require one of those precious discs of metal. At that moment, for some unknown reason, it magically disappears! Seemingly hiding in fabric crevices and becoming embedded with fabric-lint and tissue-fuzz. Perhaps it is, where is wishes to be—hmmmm self-actualized quarters.

Maybe the onset of Spring yesterday triggered the awakenings and yearnings—for an improvement, or movement—or change. With that bit of fodder, I chose to read The Lesson of Change from Lessons from the Trumpet Vine, hoping for insight as well as being gently reminded of the lesson which was so lovingly graced to me.

With my utmost respect and desire to serve the highest good, I wish to share with you an excerpt:

Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

Written & Illustrated by; Jeri L. Glatter

The Lesson of Change

Our lesson for today rests in the quiet of motionlessness. We wish to speak to you of change. True change is the transformation of thought, habit, action, or belief. You currently believe that change is filled with motion and action. On the contrary, true change—everlasting change—requires the stillness of mind, body, and soul. Change occurs in our most quiet moments, as we reach into our beings and become the observers. We must study ourselves and examine our intention, along with the significance of that intention. And in those moments of quiet contemplation rather than doing, we must view ourselves with wide, honest eyes.

Change does not live upon our tongue nor in the steps we take. True change is a motionless transcending of self. Only later, once transformation has occurred, do we demonstrate our change through action. Those who exhibit change through action will only experience that change as long as the fuel runs. That false version of change is propelled by self-will, determination, or outside influences. True change, lasting change, must first be achieved through stillness. We must sit quietly, in contemplation, self observance, and reflection, with stillness inside of us. We must allow our minds to view the map of our intention, which directs our actions. Upon review of this, we will see where we have misguided motives and we will know ourselves on the most honest of levels.


The following is an excerpt from the chapter entitled Welcome from my book Lessons from the Trumpet Vine. This writing is one of the earliest entries. I was just beginning to understand the communication and insight I would receive from the spiritual guidance I had been seeking with such earnestness. We were getting to know one another, or more correctly, I was being gently unveiled to their magnificence—they knew every aspect of my soul, my darkest moments and my most precious droplets of hope.

With my heartfelt love,


Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

Written & Illustrated by Jeri L. Glatter


All will flow smoothly in the stream, as the waters of your intention flow with the universe, to serve the highest good. This is not to say there will not be struggles. Boulders also live in the stream, but as you now move in a purposeful direction, you will overcome. You will not drown. At times, you will rush over fields of rocks with a magnificent velocity. Do not believe that you are creating those moments, nor should you attach any grandiosity, for this ability to rise above such obstacles is a gift which carries you. Learn to enjoy those moments and be thankful, but do not come to expect them. They too require effort.

At times, you will need to adjust your course, as you will be blocked by the largest of boulders. With that will come the understanding that there is much that is not within your power to move or change. At other times, you will need to flow quietly within the hidden current beneath the surface. This will teach you humility and grace. Much practice and time will be required to learn how to discern the appropriate action. This lesson will travel with you for your lifetime. You must come to the village each day. Your absence will create a dam, preventing the flow of the stream. Do not allow that. We ask you to keep the flow in constant motion. As life is ever–changing, so shall you be.

Each day you must exercise the ability to let go of the outcome of your work. This will be one of your most difficult challenges. The result is not yours to design, and this understanding requires an act of faith. You must let go of your plans and your view of what your life could be. You must trust, and work, and visit the village daily with an open heart and an open mind. View the need to know the effect of your work as an unwanted boulder blocking your flow. Use the momentum of your faith to push the boulder aside. Each push will make you stronger and more capable, until one day the boulder will rest on the river side.

Artwork in Progress

The Lesson of Release

Oil on canvas; 3′ x  3′ — Work in progress —  Jeri Glatter

From the very first days of what would become my spiritual journey, which began as an unrelenting urge to seek understanding and awakening, I have felt compelled to artistically express, The Lesson of Release from my book Lessons from the Trumpet Vine.

When I first began this painting, the elders, who stood symbolically on the shore of The River of Release were concrete, physical—as was most of my thinking! As I was uncertain and uncomfortable with the direction this particular painting was headed, I sent this canvas off to the graveyard. The cemetery—was a non-ceremonial burial sight of unfinished canvases propped against a back wall—layered with other, more acceptable pieces, so as to remain hidden from view.

Recently, a gentle tugging of my heart has been challenging me to complete this original painting—ahhhhhh—lesson time. The difficult aspect was that in order to finish it—I needed to accept that I had traveled, that I had grown and experienced so much since I began. Perhaps more importantly, it became necessary for me to have the understanding that I need not erase or forget what had come before—the steps I had taken to arrive where I was—had become a necessary and integral aspect. Perhaps equally as important was to be reminded of the gift of humility—of where it was—I had come from. How else would I appreciate the distance I had traveled?

I have found the natural tendency of having experienced transformation or growth is to burn the evidence! Start fresh…and to express only where you (gloriously) now stand. And, I have also come to understand that, that version lacks the richness—the layering of the experience.

As an exercise in acceptance, I have begun to paint once again on the original canvas—on top of “where I was” and in doing so, I have received the incredible gift of gratitude for my deeper connectedness to spirit, the highest source or God. As I relish the blissful freedom to be in expression only—without thought—I experience the pure joy of trust.

Symbolism Abounds!

The Lesson of Humanity

With my highest intention—I wish to share an excerpt from

Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

Written & Illustrated by Jeri L. Glatter

The Lesson of Humanity

When the last has arrived, all stand shoulder–to–shoulder, forming a circle. The four elders gently smile with approval and speak regally with pride. Look amongst you, they say, and see what you have accomplished! Together we form a circle, as we represent the bowl of humanity and life. Each of you has come, and each of you has brought a portion of the bowl we now create. How magnificent our bowl! Each and every one of you—from the smallest swaddled baby against her mother’s chest to the strongest and wisest among you—and every grain of sand between are necessary. Each of you has come together with the rest to form the richest of clays, and from that our bowl has been created. Our bowl of humanity is strong, and from within we can hold the weak. We can bring forth the harvest, hold our life water, heal the sick, bury the tired, and live in harmony.

A voice is heard. What of the lost, and those who do not join us?

The elders quietly weep as they speak again. There are some who come to the village not to live, but to continue their dying. There are some who choose to ignore the call to the village. All have a purpose. There is no waste. At times, those who remain lost lay stones in their wake, demonstrating where not to travel, so that others may find some grace. Whenever you meet them, embrace them and greet them with compassion and love. At times, the weakest among us are those who bring forth the most powerful of gifts. We can easily be fooled into believing that only the strongest bring us our lessons. Yet our treatment of the weak is what brings about the best in us. Their weakness becomes our strength. Thank them.

From their chests, the four elders beam in awe and pride and continue speaking. We are so very proud of you, they say. Feel our pride. Take that gratification into your heart and celebrate! For this is our most important task—the bowl we create when we share the same village. All are welcome.

The Lesson of Balance

With my best intentions and love I offer an excerpt from

Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

The Lesson of Balance

With my heartfelt love,



The Lesson of Balance

Courageously, the trumpet vine grows, the roots instinctively grasping the earth as the vines journey upward toward the light. Despite not knowing where the growth will end, the reach continues in both directions. This is the way all should live their lives. Each day, let us act as the trumpet vine. Let us look down upon our roots, hold firmly, thank the earth, and look above, saying with peace and confidence, “I do not know what my vine will look like or where or when my journey will end. I do not know what I will come upon or what shall cross my path. But despite not knowing, despite being unsure and unable to know the final outcome, I courageously continue to grow. For this day, with faith, I will do my best to reach toward the heavens. For this day, I will do my best to grow toward spirit, the highest source, or God, and toward love and light. Today, with gratitude, I will do everything I can to be the most glorious expression of the energy that exists between heaven and earth.”

Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

Written & Illustrated by; Jeri L. Glatter

Echo Wisely

While completing the second week of a self designed social-media-book-marketing-plan I found myself in a reflective place. I knew I had been busy; the entry into the vastness of the world of social media, at least for me, involved a tremendous learning curve. I was well aware that each of my sixty—minute—processes were 20-minute-actions taken effortlessly by others. Blogging, for those who had “jumped on sooner” or who were genetically predisposed to the art of computing and the world of the internet, well, for them…this new world was just another click. I struggled. I wrestled with the physicality of it all, the links, the like me’s, the tweets and the follows. What I needed was a for it all—successfully copied and pasted into my brain.

Being a “looking inward” vs a “looking outward” sort of person (my cross, so to speak) brought me to a place of reflection after a mere ten entries of blogging…here it came…the inevitable contemplative thoughts; “What am I doing? Does this have value? Am I merely attempting to capitalize on a trend of communication that happens to be conveniently located in my house? If you can wear your P.J.’s and work—is that cheating? Am I just another blogger who likes to read what they write? What is my goal and why am I sharing all of my ideas and thoughts with strangers? What happened to me? Is this what everyone else is doing?

Oh no! Questioning myself. Panic time.

Followed by deep breathing techniques (was that from a blog?) Sweater off, sweater on. Hair up, freak out, breathe, breatheeeeeee, exhale, e x h a l e, EXHALE! gotta think, gotta think…more coffee!?

Question time.

1. Was there true content in what I had written and sent out?

2. Was there value for others in what I had sent upon the…whatever the internet was—airwaves, no that’s radio…internet-waves, space thingy?

3. Was blogging a disguised version of “all about me?” Worst fear ever.

Review time.

Upon reviewing, I found there was content in what I had written, my writing had included some useful information to those who might be interested. What I had hoped for—was to inspire. I had truly attempted to remove the “me” as the starring role through the practice of humility and I had hoped that had been conveyed.


We are all creating echos. Each of us—whether we blog or not. Echos are created in the conversations we have, the exchanges we participate in, both verbal and non. Although we may not feel the resonating vibration immediately—or ever, we are all creating echos. I have come to understand that, for me, it is in the unknowing of the outcome of what our actions will bring that our purest self emerges. For now, I choose to blog, and while doing so, I must remind myself to detach from the outcome–and more importantly, the need for feedback, affirmation or applause. That is my goal, not always my reality.

By concentrating on the quality of the echos we send out—the world will be touched in a positive way. The person whom we most deeply touch through the echo of our actions or words, for all we know—has yet to be born. Echos are lasting—and can survive from generation to generation. I choose to be thoughtful of this realization as I proceed upon this journey.

It is with love and kindness—from the integrity of our highest self that we consciously choose to—echo wisely.

The Lesson of the Healing Cup

Excerpt: Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

The Lesson of the Healing Cup

We see you are perplexed, the elders said to me, as you sit in confusion regarding this group of words that you have written. Despite your ability to access the many gifts of creativity which you have been granted, you still become trapped at times within the physical world. You have done much to allow yourself the freedom to enter into the realm of the intangible, and for that we are grateful. Yet, at moments, you continue to struggle with what appears to be the simplest of chores, and we find this somewhat amusing. You have molded your experience with us thus far into a physical format in which you are unsuccessfully trying to fit this particular group of words. We smile at this, kindly, dear one. Let us assist you.

The day that these words were written we brought to you a magnificent vision to assist us in delivering a message. This message is our gift to the Healers that walk among you, and the message also holds important instructions for them. Through this vision, we hoped that you might draw attention to the healers’ unfathomable beauty and to their importance as we pay tribute to their work. We ask that they listen to our message, within your words. Place this among your pages, do not concern yourself with organized patterns in the form of chapters or prose versus poetry. All of your words are intended to serve the highest good. Stop fretting and have faith. Let the words remain as they came to you.

The Healing Cup

I saw a vision of the healer.

She stood in gentle strength.

My face flushed in awe of her beauty.

A gossamer of golden filament

created a transparent veil

luxuriously encapsulating her.

She was aglow.

Her arms were stretched open,

like the wings of the blue jay soaring,

in her welcome to the universe and

all held therein for mankind.

Her empty hands were gently cupped

in silken pods to behold

the most precious of gifts.

From her heart a labyrinth reached out—

delicate threads of golden rays.

She humbly asked for wisdom and compassion

to ebb and flow in gentle waves,

to wash upon the shore of her soul.

Her face serene in wonderment,

she silently wept.

From the midnight sky, a waterfall

cascaded upon her—

iridescent falling stars,

constellations of golden dust.

With hands overflowing,

she brought them together

to rest in front of her heart.

She gazed into hands,

mesmerized by her treasure—

molten gold swirling in tides of pearlescent luster,

undulating and flowing.

She remained unmoving,

diligent in her task,

she asked for direction.

“Gaze into your hands,” came the response. “you will see,

as cream from the udder rises from milk,

the richest of healing will come to rest on top.

Tip the cup first toward yourself. The richest is for you,

for an empty vessel cannot heal.

Practice this motion on the dawn of each day.

Then you will be able to give from the healing cup.”

Post-Mommy-Blog: Vol #1: Issue #1

While taking photographs in The Cottage at Rooster Ridge for yesterday’s blog entry, The Sign Says… I found myself taking photographs of an open cupboard filled with ceramics which were made by my children. Made—as in past tense, at least fifteen years ago—they are “vintage pieces.” (Open numbered cupboard – Pottery Barn)

As I reflected, I realized that I certainly could not become a part of the successful team of “mommy-bloggers.” If I was to be considered anything in the realm of Mommy-dom, I guess I would be referred to as a “Post-Mom.” Yet, I still resonated with all of those Mommies of young children—we were, for all time, kindred spirits.

I had the opportunity once to stay with an Amish family. Our worlds were complete polar opposites, as you can well imagine. Yet, within the first five minutes of  meeting the “Mother” of the home, she asked, “Is ye a Mother?” with my affirmation of “Yes, of two.”—she began to share the story of the loss of one of her children. We were forever bonded at that moment—as two Mom’s, who, loved their children to an extent that I believe only other Mom’s fully understand. We lived in different worlds, yet in the world of the love of a Mother, we were identical.

I love speaking with new Mom’s, current Mom’s and Mom’s to be. I have weathered the storm of the empty nest syndrome, although at Rooster Ridge it is considered an empty roost! Having spent years defining myself in part, and—at times, in whole as “someone’s Mom” I have managed to emerge fulfilled and with a feeling of purpose. I do not want to sound too proud, as it was rough at times and I did not arrive here necessarily as gracefully as I would have anticipated.

I can remember having little children like it was yesterday. I can close my eyes and feel the joy, the love, the worry and concern. I remember at times feeling very much alone in the process of being a Mom. I will also admit, having young children was the best time of my life—even when it wasn’t.

So I refuse to completely let go of Mommy-dom! I believe those of us who have traveled the path of motherhood have valuable insight and lessons to pass on—or understanding, compassion or just a view from further away in the timeline of life. It seems fitting within the heading of Symbolism Abounds, at times, it is appropriate to reflect upon the cherished path of motherhood. Thus the creation of Post-Mommy-Blog: Vol#1: Issue#1. More to come!

Friends, family and guests who visit the Cottage at Rooster Ridge always pause and examine the ceramic collection. Those who are familiar with the artists often ask which pieces belong to which artist. Often, some are blissfully carried back to a yesterday as they recall the ceramic jewels they were once gifted. At times stories are shared and always, the ceramic pieces are appreciated and bring joy, as did the children that created them.

Display your young artists’ work in your cottage, even when they are no longer young!