Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Afternoon Tea

My little girl just had a birthday.  She said goodbye to 7 and embraced 8 with arms eagerly stretched wide.  It almost felt like giving her that new number was giving her a new identity.  And she was so proud.  While she is happily embracing every step towards tomorrow, I am trying to soak up the minutes of today, knowing that they won't last long.

For her birthday we took her and a few friends to The Huckleberry for an "Afternoon Tea" put on in her honor.

Aidan was convinced to temporarily set aside his uniform of comfy shorts and a t-shirt for the promise of lemon curd and devonshire cream.


As the girls tried to out do eachother with their fancy grown up manners,




Aidan was there for the food...



Real sugar cubes!


On second thought, I'm not sure the sugar cubes were such a great idea...



At least she's not quite grown up yet.

Monday, November 28, 2011


Thanksgiving break is over and the kids are back in school. All of our company is gone and I feel a little bit lost in all of the quiet.  So for now, I am reorienting myself with a cup of tea in my new favorite mug.


 My mom was here for most of November.  It was a really special time for us, and I'm afraid we all got a bit spoiled having her around.  The kids loved having Grammie here.  My laundry is now woefully piling up again, and the dishes aren't doing themselves anymore. 

Some sweet friends from San Diego came to visit over Thanksgiving.  We hadn't seen them in 5 years, so it made our Thanksgiving extra special.



We all fell in love with little Evy who didn't take long to have us charmed.  Roscoe was desperately fond of her, but I think she may have preferred the chickens.

As it gets closer to the Advent season, I am extra thankful for these ordinary days filled with new memories and old friends.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

A Few of My Favorite Things

Because today, it feels like there is not anything original to say...

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.”
-Dr Seuss
“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as heck don't deserve me at my best.”
Marilyn Monroe


“Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
Apple Inc.


“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.”
Albert Einstein
(Not sure what this quote has to do with a picture of an outhouse, but go with it.)

(And yes, I'm aware that none of the quotes actually go with any of the pictures, but I like it that way)

Monday, November 14, 2011

Beauty Unexpected

Okay so by now it's probably pretty obvious that I have a thing for barbed wire.  And old twisty sticks.  And rusty metal.  And other assortments of weathered and worn things.  This past weekend,  we were up in the mountains surrounded by towering pine trees and majestic peaks.  And don't get me wrong, that makes my heart breathe in beauty as well, but I literally squealed when I saw an ancient pile of metal nestled up next to a tree.


I know that beauty is supposedly in the eye of the beholder.  But it's easy to see, and appreciate, beauty that is obvious.  That is out there shouting, look at me.  And people do line up to look.  It's just not so easy to find the beautiful in something worn, neglected, and ordinary.


Maybe, it's kinda like that with people too.


To find beauty in unexpected places, sometimes, I think, you have to be looking.  Here's hoping I never stop looking, and you find something beautiful in an unexpected place.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A Happy Place

Linking up with Storytellers over at A Picture Book Life.

What I love about right now.  The afternoon sun streams through the glass door and falls perfectly onto my chair making this spot right here, sunshiny and warm.  Roscoe is happily sleeping the afternoon away in a shaft of sunlight and my mom is here visiting, and today we get to celebrate her birthday.

My little foot has looked like a stranger to me these last few days.  My toes swollen to sausage like proportions and the skin stretched to contain all of the swelling.  I was worried that I had fractured my ankle but the x-rays only show a doozy of a sprain which provides me with a huge measure of relief.  It's hard for me to stay still and have others help me.  Chris has been out of town so Aidan has dragged countless loads of laundry up and down the stairs for me.  He and Chloe were so helpful while waiting for reinforcements (Grammy) to come--doing dishes, putting things away and cooking frozen pizzas.  Sweet friends have brought me dinner and done my grocery shopping.

But I might not have hurt my ankle if I hadn't been so reckless.  Sure the goalie looked a little too satisfied when we collided and I hopped of the field on one leg.  She was no doubt glad to be rid of my pesky presence buzzing around the goalie box.   But I was recklessly charging in, racing her to the ball.  I wonder how often in life I recklessly charge into things without weighing out all the consequences.  Only thinking of the excitement of an idea or an adventure.  Sometimes verbally with thoughts or words that might be better left unsaid.  Sometimes emotionally or physically.  I was thinking all of this while laying on the couch with my leg propped up and unable to cross the room for a drink of water.  Maybe there's times to sprint, and times to jog.  Pancho told me I needed to pace myself in soccer.  He didn't want me to get hurt by charging when I should be "dancing".  And I wonder if that applies to me more than just in soccer.  So now as I hobble around in my air cast, forced to take some time to stroll, I'm going to contemplate taking it easy, and I will be so grateful when I can run fast again.

 And maybe then I will not take everything at a dead sprint...and then again, maybe not.

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Friday, November 4, 2011

Storytellers: It's Hard

Linking up with Storytellers at A Picture Book Life.

My computer tells me that it is 18 degrees outside.  The chickens are refusing to come out of their coop and the dogs won't leave the house.  I have my favorite tea cup in hand.  The one from Starbucks with the wide mouth that makes it comfortable to curl two hands around.  I have my favorite bumblebee yellow sweatshirt on and I'm thinking about being a mom. 

A couple of night ago, my boy said something that hurt his sister's heart and left her crying in my lap.  He sat there, slightly defensive and defiant, unwilling to bend to make things right.  But behind the posture was a hurt that expressed itself in anger.  Firm but gentle probing led to a collapse in the wall and the reason for the pain: it's hard to be different.  It's hard to try to live life in a way that is counter culture.  To be kind when you want to be mean.  To turn away when everyone else is involved in something that makes you uncomfortable.  When culture says to act one way, but your conscience tells you to act another.  It's hard.  When the tears started dripping, the girl in my lap climbed down to crawl into her brother's and comfort him with her hug.   

I wish I could make the paths smooth and easy for my kids.  I wish I could promise only good things for their life.  But I can't.  But I can promise that I will be there.  That they won't be alone.  They won't have to figure out how to do it on their own.  And more than that, I can point them to a Friend that sticks closer than a brother. 

Burdens get lighter when they are shared.  And it ended with two littles snuggled on one bed under a fleecy red blanket and a mommy and daddy sharing stories from lives lived longer.  It ended with giggles, and whispers, and peace. And the strength to try again tomorrow.

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