Summer's Begun

We are loving our summer. The mornings are still chilly enough for a cup of tea in the morning while the kids are still sleeping and it's just me in the garden, watching Mr. Darcy slink among the mint pretending that he is a wild tiger.

The first flowers from the garden

A Saturday hike

We've been spending as much time as possible in the mountains because it feeds our souls.

Arapahoe Glacier trail

Across the way, we could see three tiny dots of skiers plowing down the mountain.

The crew

Aidan slipped on a snowy ridge and went sliding down until it leveled out. (I sort of think he did it on purpose.) Roscoe immediately plunged down after him to make sure his boy was okay, which he was.


We've also been watching a lot of World Cup soccer. And because Chloe loves to celebrate, the house is decorated in pink streamers, and she spent the first USA game watching with full on face paint from a massive fort that engulfed most of the basement.

Go USA!

We've been busy trying to get things ready for the first Art Night Out booth that I'm sharing with my beautiful, talented friend, Sarah. Sweet friends have chipped in to help, because no matter how prepared I think I am, it still seems like nothing is ready until the last minute. I had a brilliant idea that I was going to cut ALL my own mats, but that idea went down in a blaze of glory. I'm not so good with actually measuring things. Fortunately, I'm married to an engineer who specializes in coming to my rescue.



And, just because, here's a final picture of Chloe's crazed rabbit face. You're welcome.

Almost Summer

Summer came and kicked spring's tail this week. It's sweltering in my un-air conditioned house and the chocolate cake baking in the oven isn't really helping things either. Tonight my baby girl gets one step closer to the black belt she has been doggedly working on since kindergarten. She has a quiet confidence but shyly refuses to show off anything that she has learned. But every once in a while, we can talk her into demonstrating and after being thrown to the ground a few times, I've wised up and volunteer Chris instead.


Tomorrow is the last day of school and I'm not sure who is more excited, me or the kids. No more chauffeuring, packing school lunches and volunteering! But mostly, I'm just happy to have my little birds back in the nest full time.


Today is such a stick-your-feet-in-the-sand sort of day that I'm going to post some pictures of the beautiful Tel Aviv beach. (Which according to the taxi driver, has the finest sand in the world, imported from Egypt. And on secondary note, when you tell the kids to put on sunscreen, they might only think to put it on their faces...)

We were sitting on some nice chairs, but when a surly young man wearing a hat telling us to F-off came over to collect payment for the use of the chairs, we begged our ignorance and dumped our things to the sand instead.

Our totally awesome sand castle

I thought it would be fun to rent a boat, but apparently Chris thinks that being stuck in a boat is not at all relaxing and more like a kind of torture, which led to an interesting debate in which there were no winners, and we sort of agreed that it was okay to disagree.  (I don't really understand how he can't like raspberries either.) But the moral of the story is that we made a beautiful sand castle, and didn't rent a boat.

Texture Tuesday

The onset of spring and weather warm with the scent of growing, living things, gives me an almost irrepressible urge to paint things glossy white and lemon yellow. During the winter, I wanted to paint things orange; in fact, I walked around the house sometimes muttering, what would that look like Orange?


Another random fact is that going to the library makes me so happy that sometimes I find myself walking the aisles and humming, usually Christmas carols. It happened yesterday. Weird, I know.

Tzfat, Israel

Old windows and doors also make me happy, like this one. It has character, and stories to tell, and it's beauty and order surrounded by old crumbling stone. It was processed with Kim Klassen's texture, happy heart.

Somebody Else's Pain

I remember standing in the dark concrete halls that housed the Nazi prisoners in Cologne, Germany.  The walls were scribbled with their words and stories, attempts to not be forgotten. I felt the haunting sadness that those stones held. There was a name scrawled on the wall in front of me, an American soldier on the day they liberated those inhabitants from continuing darkness, in time for some, but too late for many. I remember feeling both proud, and ashamed, as I looked at his name. Proud of our part, but ashamed that it had taken us so long to lumber out of our own self-interests and come to help. I added my own whispered apology for the walls to hold before heading back into the sunshine.

National Socialism Documentation Center

In Cologne, Germany

I wonder now, sitting at the table of a man whose words weep with the weight of pain felt by Syrian children being slaughtered in a man's game of tug of war, if this generation, my generation, is going to have to carry the weight of inaction. Or if we will even lift our heads high enough to see someone else's sorrow. 

Random Thursday

Every day Aidan comes home from school and asks me if I've written a new blog. Most times, the answer is no and I try to explain that with all the laundry, cooking, cleaning, car pooling, gardening, bill paying, soccer coaching, errand running etc...sometimes I don't have time. And so today, I have a guest post from Aidan Cummings. This short story is shared completely without the permission of the author, because he is at school.

                       Cakes

Aidan Cummings                                                                 

I stared through the window, my nose pressed up against the cold, clear glass. My breath fogging up the crystal clear window, etching intricate patterns that would disappear as soon as I decided what cake I wanted. In front of me there is an oasis of pastries, everyone so pure, so perfect. My eyes glanced up and fell on a luscious lemon torte, my mouth watered as I thought of biting into the cool, sweet lemon pudding. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dense, rich, and beautiful German chocolate cake next to a simple vanilla bean and cinnamon dainty. I glanced to the right and saw a creamy tiramisu with glazed espresso  beans on top. I sank to the ground in despair. There were just too many amazing cakes to pick from. I tried to pick but it was in vain, there was just too many options. I glanced across the street and saw a sign. I suddenly had made up my choice. I picked myself up and walked across the street. Lemon tiramisu ice cream never sounded so good.   

And because I have just named today as 'Random Thursday", here is a random photo from Israel:

I'm sure this sculpture has some meaning, although I must confess, I haven't a clue what it is. We were just off the shores of the Sea of Galilee visiting the Yigal Allon Museum on the grounds of Kibbutz Ginosar.  Otherwise more famously known as the "Jesus Boat Museum". (We might have still been smarting from our trip the Mount of Beatitudes- more on that later, so we just peeked through the doors at the boat and then bought things from the gift shop. Chloe bought a sheep carved out of olive wood (what else?). I also have a picture of a older pot-bellied man wading in a speedo. And a cat. But today is just a boat-full-of-heads kind of day.

Almost Night

Outside the Sea of Galilee

The Artist Corner is Tzfat

 Tzfat

I think this was overlooking Tzfat also

Tzfat

Citadel Park

Spring has finally sprung here in Colorado. The air is warm and heavily scented with blooming things and the feeling of coming alive , and my dogs have finally decided that they would rather be outside the house than in-thank goodness! Every spring, I'm certain that it is my favorite time of year, until Autumn arrives and I switch sides again. I guess it just means that I'm happy in the space that I'm currently in.

This was an old cemetery we found outside of Tiberius. There were huge, ornate, marble tombstones complete with awnings to keep off the sun, sometimes next to a humble, dilapidated old tomb, weathered and black, with crumbling concrete. Many were piled high with small stones. The stones traditionally take the place of flowers, symbolizing, among other things, the permanence of memory.


 "There is something suiting the antiquity and solidity of Judaism in the symbol of a stone. In moments when we are faced with the fragility of life, Judaism reminds us that there is permanence amidst the pain. While other things fade, stones and souls endure." -Rabbi David Wolpe

Citadel Park

We hiked to a hill above Tzfat (Safed, Zefat etc) to see the ruins of an old crusader fort (in its day the largest castle fort in the Middle East.) The fort sits at the highest point in Safed, the highest city in Israel. I met a man who worked for the archaeology department. He immediately started taking me around the site telling me what to photograph and giving me a all the information he thought I should know.


He was quite sure that Moses and his son Shem used to live here. And also that Iran was spying on the location and if we stood in just the right spot we could flip them the bird. (I will neither confirm nor deny reports that someone may have done just that.)

An unknown person

 Another fellow, a Russian Jew this time, found Chris and was doing his best with limited English to perform as a proper tour guide. He took us into the cave because we had to experience the sound. It was pitch black and we found our way by hands on the wall, trying not to stumble. The path opened up into a chamber of sorts, with a small hole at the top where a bit of light was coming through. Maybe shaped like a huge cistern. He began to softly sing in the darkness, a hauntingly beautiful sound that made you feel like you were in a holy place. The acoustics were incredible.

Then I took a picture. The flash illuminated the room showing off graffiti and an old tattered mattress with the springs poking out, which did spoil the mood a little.

Nearing Sunset