I grew up in the Sunshine State. That's why I'm so sunny. Look at me! Don't I look happy?!
(don't mind me. i'm just grumpy...& confused. this is one of those moments where i want to laugh & cry at the same time. i hope i captured it with the perfect eggs frying in the skillet.)
Keep an eye out for old wagon ruts. The best preserved Oregon Trail ruts are in Guernsey, Wyoming (Guernsey State Park). Wish I could come along for the ride. What an adventure! You better be glad I'm not there though, because if I was, there'd be none to eat but bacon n beans n biscuits n coffee. Happy Trails!
A strange and beautiful beast lies on his bed and wags his tale as soon as i stumble into the room.
I start a fire for boiling water and a well-dressed someone kisses me good-bye. He leaves me there & walks out to a large dewy garden where he picks fresh greens to take with him on his journey.
Out front someone small leans over the murky waters of a little unfinished fish pond with a net. She's wearing a pink taffeta skirt, retro t-shirt w/ hearts on it, & bare feet (this is what she slept in). She has stepped outside half-awake to try to catch frogs.
Here comes someone who is trying to feed the beasts first thing, but this morning she strays into the wrong room with their bowls as she's looking for something to feed them, b/c she too is still waking up.
And up there two more lie sleeping in bed, still entranced by the hum of fans, and no doubt willingly decieved by the dim light of this gray overcast morning.
I look out the window and wander outside in my pajamas to find the one who kissed me because i notice his car is still in the driveway (i know exactly where to find him). We walk together in the morning, in the grass, holding hands. And then i return to plunk down contentedly at the school table one whole hour before school is supposed to start because i never know what to do with myself this time of day other than watch & wait for the day to begin.
Today I love everyONE & everyTHING
There's no stopping me now
I'm happy, I'm free
The music is loud
I'm busy as a bee
Even interruptions are welcomed with open arms
Why can't every day be like this day
(This picture cracks me up. I couldn't resist!)
"Now happenings so come upon us in this world that the serious things of this world become so mixed up with the merry things that our life is all a jumble of black and white..."
The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, by Howard Pyle
"Tra-la-la-la-la spring is in the air, and I'm a flower with nothing interesting to say."
(If Y is a prequel to X, then Y's storyline precedes X's, yet Y is released at a later date than X.)
Yesterday I went to the hardware store to buy mouse traps. I honestly spent about 20 minutes there contemplating what to do as I looked at all of the pictures depicting the fatal ends of various death traps & I could not bring myself to do it. I spent about $80 on a trap for catching live mice, scent pouches (2 types-which presumably deter mice & trigger a flight instinct), & a device which sends electronic pulses into the walls to make life there a little less desirable. A regular old mouse trap probably costs about 99 cents. I wouldn't know. I was trying to avert my eyes. Anyway, I don't know why I'm telling you all this. We did catch a mouse, and I did do some research on how exactly one goes about losing a mouse. We drove the little varment south to the end of the property & I hope he has a happy life there. The End.
"Poor Sam! It will feel like that, I am afraid. But you will be healed. You were meant to be solid and whole, and you will be..."
~Tolkein, Frodo, The Lord of the Rings
"As we are stewards of the natural world, so can the natural world minister to us, not only through medicinal plants but through beauty, freshness, and the simple joy of all life. These things have a measure of power to heal our souls."
~Tolkein's Ordinary Virtues, Mark Eddy Smith
Honestly, I was so gloomy on my birthday. I had a great morning scooting about town with Snow, but when we got home, the grey clouds moved in, literally and figuratively. Pure, raw emotion came streaming down, for no particular reason. At first I thought it might be a mid-life crisis, but I've already had one of those, maybe more than once. Anyway, once Ben got home & found me in that state, he sang, "It's my party & I'll cry if I want to," and laughed at me & tried with all his might to shine like the sun & conjure a birthday rainbow using the available elements. That was beautiful. Well I'm here to say that now that the dark spell has been lifted, it's sunny & clear & I just want to say, I feel so loved and it's a lovely feeling.
All of my windows are pasted with magnificent paper flowers, soaking up the sun. Curious bugs, real blue skies, puffy clouds, and swaying trees complete the luminous backdrop. It's the most peculiar unity of opposites, wanting only a recording of birds to speak for the silent ones who fly behind the glass.
“Well," said Pooh, "what I like best," and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.”
The Grass so little has to do
A Sphere of simple Green
With only Butterflies to brood
And Bees to entertain
And stir all day to pretty Tunes
The Breezes fetch along
And hold the Sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything
And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls
And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing
And even when it dies – to pass
In Odors so divine
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep
Or Spikenards, perishing
And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell
And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay
~by Emily Dickinson
This morning I had a mini Christmas moment with Hannah & Emmeli. We were willingly transported into familiar surroundings of yule tide gaiety while making applesauce & apple muffins. The aroma of cinnamon & apples permeated the landes as we admired the long awaited snowy vistas, and without warning, a Peanut's song, stored on my ipod (not from A Charlie Brown Christmas, but from The Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack) made its entrance into the scene and worked its magic. I gladly recieved this Christmas combo even if it was being delivered a little late, it was by all means necessary for the completion of winter, and now I can march confidently into spring being satisfied and wholly restored to what is a good and right and natural order of events.
“The Wart did not know what Merlyn was talking about, but he liked him to talk. He did not like the grown-ups who talked down to him, but the ones who went on talking in their usual way, leaving him to leap along in their wake, jumping at meanings, guessing, clutching at known words, and chuckling at complicated jokes as they suddenly dawned. He had the glee of the porpoise then, pouring and leaping through strange seas.”
~T.H. White, The Once and Future King
I like the Pixies and big snowflakes and cozy places and iced coffee and fingerless gloves- pretty typical for someone my age, I think. I never realized until now I was so main stream. I used to like oysters when I was little and that got me lots of attention, but now that I'm all grown up, I think I'd rather just like chocolate like everyone else. Yesterday, I realized that I really will be old one day & it bothered me a little. Youth is like a little flower & old age like a tree in the wood, both are beautiful, but I'm not sure how a flower turns into a tree. I've a feeling it gets all shriveled up somewhere in the process and I don't think I like that. I'm much too clingy to grow old gracefully like I always thought that I would. I'll probably be a very awkward grandma- listening to the Beastie Boys and drinking iced mochas in my fingerless gloves, but I have no intention of changing with the seasons, and that's all I have to say about that.
My last blog was a prelude to this one. While reading aloud from The Lay of the Land in class yesterday, a chapter titled "The Buzzard and the Bear Swamp," I was thinking about the ominous aspects of people who are not unlike forests with murky places. I was reminded of how forgiveness is the only way to preserve a lasting bond between friends, but the most intimate fellows don't even think of forgiveness because they are not offended. When you understand the natural world, the marsh is not "primeval, desolate, and forbidding." "Letting the light of day into the deepest of its recesses," you "slip to and fro as a shadow" unmuddied and unscathed because you "know it well," "its gloomy depths, its silent streams, its hollow stumps, its trails, and its haunting mysteries." There's no need for courage. If you love the forest, you'll be undaunted face to face with the "Bear Swamp."
I am a thinker, a premeditator, a ponderer. That is not to say that any great and wondrous thoughts are produced in this fertile mind, but there are many things growing and thriving here. Some are beautiful, many are wild. I don't really know if this kind of prolific mind is desirable. All of this thinking can be very distracting and exhausting, especially when there are more fruitful endeavors in want of more attention. When I'm reading a book, my mind is so busy crafting analogies and reading between the lines that it's as if I'm reading two books at once; and if I'm not reading a book, it's as if I am, and it's always the same book of poetic philosophy. Anyway, there's nothing to be done about it. I've always been this way. In truth, I'm happy to be the ground where wildflowers grow. My wanderings are like dear little friends and I'd be loth to part with them. Is it safe to trust these little suckers, cute as they are? They've taken over a good portion of my brain already. Am I too much in my own head; and if this is the way that it's to be, then what good can come of it? What is my purpose as an affectionate weed farmer?
So Daniel has started a family newsletter. Should I be afraid? Here's a copy of an article from his first issue. It's called Tooth or Fraud...
The question has always been asked by young children when they lose a tooth, "Will the tooth fairy come tonight?" Startling new evidence has appeared that the tooth fairy in question is a fairy who was laid off by Fairy Inc. The fairy in question is actually fairy number 13520 of work group 12z. She was laid off by her boss for being late almost every time.
"She was such a good fairy, but one day she started only doing part time so she could work for a school, ever since she hasn't been the same."
All of this matches with why teeth have been left under pillows and have not disappeared like they should. An interview with a victim named Emmeli gives more insight into the matter. Emmeli, what do you have to say about the tooth fairy?
"Booooo! The tooth fairy never came to get my tooth, now it is lost in my bed."
And what do you have to say about the money swing the tooth fairy gives?
"My Mom told me that the longer the tooth stays the more money you get, now that my tooth is lost, it will have to stay longer."
Is Mom an expert on the tooth fairy?
"I don't know, but what I do know is that Mom said that when she found the tooth fairy she would tell it to come that night, but she never came."
Thank you for your time.
We will now get an exclusive interview with Emmeli's sister, Hannah. Hannah, what do you have to say about the tooth fairy not coming for people's teeth?
"Well Emmeli's tooth is missing. Anyway, Mom says the tooth fairy is on vacation...a very long vacation."
And what do you have to say about this very long vacation?
"I think she just doesn't want to do her job anymore. I'm not sure what she's up to, really, maybe she got sick on her vacation and isn't sick anymore, but is still on vacation."
Thank you. There you have it folks. A tooth fairy gone odd- leaving victims of the tooth fraud- who really is the tooth fairy?
I'm feeling very vulnerable in regards to my writing today for some reason. I almost feel like someone may read this, not that my usual someones don't count, but I know that my favourites won't judge me. Noone knows what those other eyes might think. Anyway, I have to make an honest confession, because this truth is aching to be told. I have, and always have had, for as long as I can remember, a seriously mysterious affinity for gypsies. I think if my life had been different I would be a gypsy, even now, only I wouldn't be the superstitious, thieving sort that you may have read about in books. I once took a personality test which revealed that if I had lived in Medieval Times, I would've been a traveling minstrel. I put great stock in that test. It had pages of questions, so it was very thorough, and it rightly pegged my dear friend who was to have been the prime minister, as I know she would have been. Anyway, I liked the outcome, though I'm not sure they got it quite right, because I don't know of any musical talents as of yet. I think if there had only been a little deeper investigation, accompanied by a proper understanding of the facts, the like would have proved me to be, quite simply, a traveling nomadic bohemian wanderer, or gypsy as they are called. I'm well aware that such a life is far more beautiful in a picture or a movie, which is why that role is for another time, and another me- the me that didn't make it to here and now, because in this life it was never meant to be.
May you be brave, and have the strong head to think with, and the strong heart to love with, and the strong hands to work with, and the strong feet to travel with, and always come home to your own.
(a gypsy's blessing- taken from Five Children and It- a perfectly delightful book for small people)
Freedom is a great motivator. I've always secretly thought myself to be a bit rebellious, maybe I am, but what lead me to this idea is that, often if someone tries to tell me to do something that I'm already doing or planning to do, it strangles the idea right out of me. I'm completely dead. Well, based upon new evidence, I'm changing this idea about myself. Who doesn't gasp at the idea of being trapped in a cage, perched on a little wooden dowel, consuming limited assigned rations, and repeating the same catch phrases day after day? Recently I started letting the kids get up as early as they like to get their independent school work done, so that they can finish early and have some free time. They're allowed to do school in their pj's, before breakfast, before they make their beds, whatever... Wow! Look at them go! It's not that they were rebelling against the system before. It was just stifling them, sucking the life right out of them, and I know the feeling. Be free little birds... fly free and take me with you.
So it has happened, as I knew it would, all of the colour has gone out of this world; but as in winter, we see a new kind of beauty and absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Life is a bucking bronco, untamable, unabated, unabashedly unbridled. If I were a clown, I'd dress up real fancy, and paint on a happy face. But I'm not a clown, so I'll just watch from here.
I have no idea what to say this morning. I just wanted to say something, for no particular reason- probably because I want to color a picture, or because posting often generates an email response from one or more of my favorite people in the world. Good morning fan club! I love you all! On a side note- the whole fam watched Fiddler on the Roof last night. We stayed up 'til 11 on a school night to finish it. I just love that flick. It's sad, but I love it. I've been singing in my head all morning and I want a fiddle. Ciao (Shalom).
Grading Snow's grammar lesson from September :) I found a sweet message just for me. When asked to list some adjectives which describe 'what kind of' teacher, she wrote amazing, wonderful, sweet teacher... "i love you mom." I feel special. A++
I don't often sing the praises of homeschooling, because let's face it, not everyone can homeschool, but on this day, at this time, I can hardly help myself, so make way. Today, Snow & Emmeli sat side by side in the sunshine on our beautifully green lawn to do a nature study. They looked so sweet sitting there, and I just watched them for a minute and appreciated how fortunate we are. It dawned on me that if my kids were in school, they would hardly ever see each other. I often selfishly rejoice that my kids are always home with ME, but today, it struck me that they're also together with each other, experiencing life, learning about the world, and growing up together. Emmeli and Snow were like two peas in a pod today, staring intently into the trees, watching for birds as they held journals in their laps and sported jacket hoods on their backs. It was a single moment in time, cherishable, irreplaceable, a once in a lifetime opportunity and we captured it.
Such a lovely moon last night! Yesterday we went hiking and we got a really late start, so about halfway thru the hike, the sun went out. We had headlamps so it was o.k., but you hardly needed a lamp because the moon was so bright. We made so much noise tromping through the sleeping forest in our heavy winter boots, but we were plenty warm and all was pleasant. The moon really was amazing. It's impossible to find the right words for these wonders of nature, but trust me there were things going on up there which were unusually fantastic. The moon had an aura about it which radiated more than the usual batch of colors, and at first glimpse I knew we were meant to be late, that the car keys were intentionally hid and the children were purposefully intollerant of their too tight gloves, mismatched snowsuits, and missing hats. Isn't it wonderful how these things work out. They always do work out, one way or another.
The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane. ~Marcus Aurelius
Today is a day for waking- a day for sitting (with my friend Irene) and sipping (cafe aulait), but also a day for running (errands) and skating (skate boarding in the basement), laughing (out loud in whole foods at the silly notes that Daniel snuck into my grocery list) and hugging (Hannah tightly), listening (to Robert Downey Jr. - he talks so fast) and watching (The Soloist). It is not a day for lying prostrate with dreams of oatmeal. This was my thought this morning as I showered and remembered last night's dream where I went shopping for oatmeal. I had planned to jump (on the trampoline) not skate, and I planned to read (lots of books for school) not watch (The Soloist), but it all turned out okay. It was a beautiful day.
Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love
and to work and to play and to look up at the stars.
- Henry Van Dyke
There's something I've been wanting to say for some time, but have not been able to conjure the wit and intelligence to do it justice. This unventilated sentiment waylayed for so long yields raw emotions now bordering on the dramatic. But nevertheless, until I spit this thing out, I fear I shall chafe inwardly for all eternity if, for no other reason, because I refuse to be the murderous villain of a spritely piece of soul that wants nothing more than to be free in the world. I think that giving voice to fleeting passions lends credence to a piece of humanity that ought not to be left unattended, but making something tangible out of a smithereen of your own God-given spirit is an art, a fascinating, exhilerating challenge. So, I've dreamed up an idea and can not quite put it to use, and it's trapped inside myself like a taunting germ. It's compellingly effectual, but who's to know it when it cannot be seen or heard? That is the dilemma, the unmitigable, enigmatic, perplexity of self expression.
I wonder what life will be like when we're no longer limited by time. This will be one of the greatest prizes of Heaven, a notable benefit for slow readers, and a sanction for endless distractions.
I have found that sometimes I need to say something, even when I have nothing to say. Somehow this forced expression is like a thousand volt shock which, likely by way of humiliation, resets the natural rhythm of my heart and voice. Hello, things are flying out of your mouth which seem foreign and obscure, is this really what thou meanest to say? Good thing I'm only talking to myself.
Daniel- (shaking his head as he stands in awe of my nightly regimen of herbs) "You know, you could be a homeopath."
Me- (smiling, with raised eyebrows) "That's better than being a psychopath."
Daniel- "You could be both."
"Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel!"
~William Shakespeare
I often feel like I'm on a wave, or on skis, or on a rollercoaster or something like that. Something is hurtling me into the unknown and I'm hanging on for dear life, all the while reminding myself I can't stop it, so I might as well just let go and enjoy the ride. Well no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can't bring myself to let go. It's sad and pathetic, I know, to know what you need to do, a perfectly reasonable thing, & not be able to pull it off. Well, this is me & I'm not going to sit here & feel sorry for myself. Today is a new day & I'm still holding on, even if I am just being dragged along bumpity bump while everyone else goes darting about. The world has to have turtles too, you know. Not everyone can be a jack rabbit. The thing to remember is, turtles have shells. I never saw a rabbit with a shell, & trust me, sometimes they wish they had one.
She got hard head you know. She know don't nobody sing, but she no fear. She good in she heart, but she no lay down and be vex. She no sit and look out and be hongry for what she no can have. She heart be like pican's heart what fly from window. She know how God fix Jonah, how God be done make a road down in the sea. Death take him hand off pican heart. She got hard head you know.
I just wanted to say that I've been blogging so long now that I can't remember which pictures I've already used. So, if you think a picture looks familiar, it probably is. That is all...
There's snow on the ground this morning & there's still a little stream running next to the house from all of the rain we've been getting. Yesterday we thought we were going to float away & this morning it's so peaceful. I think I'm finally ready for winter.
Emmeli- "Our whole back yard is the world."
One day I was bragging about the map I made on Little Big Planet. It's a map of our yard and it looks like a fine folk art quilt. It's wonderfully bright, and real, and happy, and I'm very proud of it...
So we were talking about it, (we meaning me)
And Aimee was listening obediently,
When a little voice piped in somewhat dreamily,
(It was a little girl who is named Emmeli)
And she said, "Our whole back yard is the world, you see..."
Well this was spoken so matter-of-factily
We asked, "Do you mean the level on LBP?
Or perhaps you were just speaking generally?
And we found the reply from the sweet voice to be
"Indubitably! I spoke quite generally!"
I hope I make it through another year of blogging. Pictures abound, but I fear I am running out of words.
I spent the whole afternoon baking with Snow & Emmeli yesterday. Nothing really turned out, but the pies looked beautiful & it was sweet. Snow & I made a banana cream pie & Emmeli made a miniature "apple crisp pie." Hannah didn't help becauses she wasn't feeling well. She has a cold, so she watched SpongeBob in the playroom & talked to Aimee on the phone & came down to check on us periodically. I thought Snow looked like a picture with her hair pulled back and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows as she was surrounded by whisks and mixing bowls and measuring spoons and The Joy of Cooking. I looked at her & thought the image belonged on a bag of flour or in a fairytale. I learned that Emmeli loves the smell of dough, which is interesting. Yes, I want to attach "me" to that smell so that all through life when she's standing in her kitchen with her rolling pin she'll think of Mommy holding her hand and helping her make miniature pies when she was but a wee little kitten.
