damsel in distress...

Illustration by Henri Faivre

Sometimes, when things are going along just swimmingly, there may, at some point, be something which appears altogether wrong/ out of place/ not in sync. I'm trying hard not to focus on such things. For instance, if I walk into a room which is perfectly clean and tidy, it may, perchance, come to my attention that there is a painting on the wall which is slightly askew. Now, if the room were a disaster, would I have noticed? Probably not; I'd probably be too busy noticing some other more bothersome annoyance. So this is what I'm trying to teach myself to remember. When, sometimes, there is some very irksome thing, think, why is that so bothersome? And the answer is... because it's not in harmony with the whole. Why is it not in harmony with the whole? Because it is a wrong in a room full of right. Seriously, you can't expect to have it all! And what joy that there is but one grievance! This is brilliant! Now, when I walk into a room which is chock-full o' congruence, I shall say, 'Wow! Just look at how nicely that sofa lines up with that coffee table; and isn't it lovely how the rug, too, agrees with the set pattern of lines!' And in so doing, I shall be at peace with my surroundings. Now, that being said, sometimes that one thing which is out of place may be, say, a wolf who wants to eat you, or Hitler. I'm thinking on a bit wider scale now. I was just thinking how sometimes it is not good to turn a blind eye to things which are begging to be adjusted. (Hitler was the first thing that came to mind.) I don't want to lead anyone astray here. If your crooked picture is Hitler, by all means, straighten it.

 

ode to milkman...

So, I never told you before, but we have a milkman. This guy named Dan comes to our house every Wednesday and leaves 6 glass bottles of cold milk with various colored plastic caps. He picks up 6 empty glass bottles and carts them back to his big white milk truck, all the while the dogs are going berzerk. It's really fun. We call him Dan the Milkman. I've never met him before, actually, because I'm always in my pj's when he comes, but Ben met him once. But I've always liked Dan, just because. I mean come on, he's a milkman. How many milkmen do you think there are in the world? Not too many, I dare say. And he always comes right on time, bearing delicious gifts for hungry cereal eaters and anxious coffee drinkers. I know you'll probably think I'm silly, but having a milkman has been one of the joys of life. To be quite honest, I wish that Dan the Milkman would trade in his big white milk truck for a horse and milk cart like Reb Tevye. Well, this is not meant to be a sad post, but the time has come to say goodbye to Dan the Milkman. Working at Whole Foods means we're going to get 20% off milk, and we won't need home delivery if I can just bring the stuff home. So that's that. But I thought to myself, we can't just let Dan the Milkman slip away without a word or two for posterity. Don't worry, I'm not really going to make a rhyme about Dan. I thought I might at first, just so I could keep this catchy title, but I'm not going to. Would you believe me if I told you I don't even know what he looks like. I just felt that it was too silly to peep through the curtain to catch a glimpse, and I'm usually too busy trying to quiet the dogs, so Dan can do his job in peace. But I'm kind of glad of that really- to just let Dan live in my imagination as a stereotype.

Ps. Believe it or not, I wrote this post before I knew this pic had a horse in the background. I've been wanting to blog about the milkman for a while now, so one day I saw a retro pic of a milkman & saved it without ever having noticed the horse. Everytime I think of that pic, I just see that smily milkman. It's funny to me, because I felt silly for mentioning that bit about the milk cart (even though it is true). But, when I went to retrieve the pic and saw the horse in the background, I just thought that was neat. That happens to me all the time, by the way- where the Lord blesses me in some trifling way that just sounds ridiculous if I try to explain it to someone; so I've sort of given up trying to tell people those things. Sometime, when my post script isn't getting way too long, maybe I'll tell you more (since I know I can trust you), but not now, I really gotta go.

 

go forth to the dances of the merrymakers...

So what is it with the long titles?! Sheesh! When you wake up with catchy tunes from My Fair Lady swimming around in your noggin, you know it's going to be a happy day! Do you ever say really dumb stuff when you really don't need to say anything at all? Or maybe a simple 'good morning' would suffice, but you end up blurting out your whole life story. I have a problem in this area. Too much. Too soon. So, I'm feeling a little nervous about meeting all those new people next week. Normally, if people think you're a weirdo, they just walk away, but what happens when you're tethered together with people in the workplace and they can't leave? Or even worse, what if they are the weirdo! Wait. I retract that last statement. I don't think I'll have a problem with that. Unless they're like scary strange, that's different. I have so much to do today. I don't know what I'm doing sitting around here talking to myself. Am I the only one who has controversial, introspective, reasonings that beg to be delivered up to the public every morning? I don't just think thoughts, they pour out of me like so much helium squealing out of a party balloon, leaving me all deflated and rumpled up on the floor. Get up you flimsy little fribble and frolic for goodness sake! Think lofty thoughts, get some fresh air, and hold your breath as long as you can, then you can dance until dawn with the merrymakers. Speaking of making merry, Emmeli has found a new station on Pandora. She listens to it non-stop, and she has infected us all with her merriment. There's one particular song, which I think is Alvin and the chipmunks singing Old Macdonald in Spanish, very catchy. Honestly, you can not worry about anything when you hear this stuff. She's been uping (now there's a word you won't find in the dictionary; fribble by the way is in the dictionary, if you use the right dictionary) all the classic, vintage Disney scores and really has created something special. People are no longer asking her to turn it off, which is interesting. Every once in a while it brings up a song from movies like Fiddler on the Roof or My Fair Lady, which is why I now have those songs stuck in my head. Okay, we've come full circle now and we're back to happy little ditties. This is where I get off.

Ps. The soundtrack from "The Artist" is lovely for happy mornings. It was introduced to Em by another of her beloved stations- the "Ratatouille" station.

 

it is much like that with me as well...

So, I think I have said it once before, but sometimes I say things twice, just to be sure. In some other cases, I don't say anything at all and just expect you to know what I'm thinking. I understand this can be very frustrating and I apologize. Before I reiterate, though, just let me also apologize in advance for any peculiarities in speech. I recently watched The King and I, and I think, as a result, it has damaged my ability to speak properly. Anyway, I am not so much in the mood for writing this morning. It's this picture which has forced me here. I found it yesterday & I wanted to deposit it here right away.The thing you may remember me having said once before is this: that pictures usually come as an afterthought in this blogging process; hardly ever do I actually have the picture first and then try to fit in the words. I hope this makes clear to you, then, that this particular picture holds, with me, some significance. In fact, I really think the intended sentiment is so glaringly obvious, that words may here actually serve as an impediment to its meaningfulness. If you have ever been to my house early in the morning or sometime after dinner, then you know precisely what it is that I'm not telling you. If you have not had that pleasure, then I can see that this blog shall be terribly annoying for you.

 

ready or not...

It is time for me to find my inner morning person. I got the job at Whole Foods. (That is assuming I pass the criminal check.) I'm really rather excited to get up and go to work every morning! Is that weird?! I'm sure it'll wear off soon enough. So this is the dawn of a new day and somehow it feels like it needs a proper slogan, though I don't know what that would be. There really is something about working outside the home that makes a person feel official. Why is that? I know what it is, actually. It's that we've all been brainwashed. Honestly, I believe that staying home and raising your own children is the way to go. I, for one, am perfectly happy at home. But now that I know I've got a job, what is this feel that has me visualizing myself as some swampy thing resurfacing from the underground? Looking at myself, I find that very backwards and strange. So maybe we are a bit underground, but it's not swampy! Infact, it's more like I'm heading out into the swamp; and I think I'm going to need some muck boots. I'd like to rewire that thought right now. I'm starting to wonder if that whole "a woman's place is in the home" era wasn't enacted as a measure of reverse psychology for women. If we tell woman her place is in the home, maybe she'll want to go to work! Well anyway, I don't know why I'm so gumptiony this morning. And, no, I'm not having second thoughts about the job. I just found it a bit odd that I was having even an inkling of self-worth in regards to heading out into the workplace. (Here is where I insert the definition of inkling so as to be clear and not embarrass myself as a result of mine own undisguised frankness.) {Inkling: a half-light; a glimmer; a misty haze; a dim, faded, almost unrecognizable, infinitesimal speck of a shadow, covered up and resting under a pillow.} Nevertheless, there was an inkling and it caught my attention, so I felt the need to wrestle away his little pillow and shoo him out the window. Come to think of it, maybe all this wrestling is somehow related to feeling guilty about sleeping in. Anyway, it does feel nice to pitch in, and I feel really so very blessed that everything has worked out so perfectly with the hours and whatnot. The whole thing is really quite doable. All I have to do is get up early. It's a small price to pay. And we get to keep the lizards. All in all, I think it's a grand way to do it, if it must be done. In conclusion I'd like to say: though I am looking forward to doing something new (simply because I like mixing things up a bit every now and then), it's important for me to know that you know that I have no aspirations to be a modern woman. And whatever other little inklings there are out there, don't get too comfy, I'm onto you.

 

it was a sad sad day, i must say...

So this is one of those occasions where I'm blogging twice in one morning. For those of you who are new to the blog, it doesn't happen all that often, so not to worry. I just had a thought and I thought I better grab it before it's gone. So, Ben & I go to Chipotle practically every week, practically every week I tell you. Do we get sick of it? No, we do not. I won't tell you which day, I have to keep some things private, you know. I mean geez, this is the internet after all. But one of the guys who works there just announced that it was his last day, because he's moving to New York. How sad is that! I won't tell you how often he gave us coupons for free guacamole and free burritos, because I wouldn't want to get him in trouble. I will tell you that whenever he saw us in line, he always left his cash register duties to go get me some limes from the back, and he always had my water cup ready etc... because he knew I would be asking. We liked talking to that guy about his car troubles and his puppy. Those little 60 second conversations really make a person feel chumly. There is another lady who works there (who Ben likes to call Rosita) and that is meant in the nicest possile way. (I probably shouldn't be posting that on the internet. Someone will take it the wrong way for sure.) We don't know her name, so we have to call her something. We love that lady! And she hasn't been there for quite some time. So Chipotle is changing. They are all new faces there, and none of them knows I want limes from the back. It's really sad. I'm not trying to make you sad just because I am sad. I just needed to remember the good ole days, because this is a part of our history together. (My history with Ben, I mean.) I'm not kidding. We eat there almost every week! And this has been going on for years, I tell you. It's like Cheers, except they don't serve alcohol. How would you feel if you went to watch Cheers and they had an all new cast? I don't think you would like it. I think you'd probably change the channel, wouldn't you? But I guess that's all you can expect from fast food. I mean who wants to make burritos for the rest of their life? I guess we'll just have to keep moving forward, but that doesn't mean we have to like it.

Ps. I felt bad about that one comment so I asked Ben and he said he thinks her name really is Rosita.

 

it's a brand new day...

I had a dream last night that I didn't get the job at Whole Foods. I was at Trader Joe's and they were having a company party when the lady from Whole Foods came over to talk with me. I asked why I didn't get the job and she told me my life was too exciting. ^_^ Then one of the cahiers from Traders asked me to join their company party. What does it mean?! Should I apply to Trader Joe's instead?! I'm so confused. Hehe. For those of you who are wondering, I haven't heard back yet. I was relieved when I woke up to find it was only a dream. I think I will call there today to find out what's going on. I did get a call yesterday from World Market and they want me to come in for an interview. I think I better go just in case.

 

a humble account of smarts and sympathy...

So, there are reasons for which someone might attend to a blog- lots of reasons. Today's reason is acknowledgement. I'd like to acknowledge that having a blog is perfectly logical and reasonable. Aside from all of the memorabilia, there is a record here, a historical account, data. Usually I don't blog about things unless they attach to some emotion, so there's no doubt there are gaps. Not to say that some days I'm not emotional. That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that if there's a change in the weather, I'll probably not remark on it unless it has somehow ruined my plans, or created an opportunity for me, or shocked me. For instance, today is supposed to be the hottest day of the year. I probably would not have blogged about that had I not already been here. Which brings us around to the question; why am I here, anyway? You may have noticed that I often blog about people, especially if they've happened to have ruined my plans, created an opportunity for me, or shocked me. This post is kind of one of those, but also it's about a big pat on the back for turning ooey gooey feels to practical use. Do you remember about a year ago when I blogged about the baby mice? Well, yesterday the whole scene played out again, ending with a cardboard box of like critters and a phone call to the Friends of Wildlife. It was a fairly decent person that I fell in with there, I must say. I don't know if I mentioned it in my other post (called mice are people too), but there aren't too many "friends of wildlife" who could care less about a box full of little mousy rodents. Last time, after about five phone calls, I happened upon someone who was willing to help me. It just so happened that she knew of a "friend" in training who could use just such an intro into the life of rehabilitation. So it all worked out, but I didn't happen to save her number. So this time it was the same thing all over again, and guess who called me back? Same lady, which was kind of neat. I don't think she really remembered me & she didn't know who she had referred me to before. She thought she might refer me to the same individual, even though by this time she would no longer be a newbie, which was pretty decent I might add. So blah blah blah, I was able to give her the exact date of my phone call by referencing my blog, which led her to the exact date in her rescue journal, which had the exact record of me calling for help, & my name, & the newbie's name etc... etc.. etc.. So that was pretty cool and made me feel so official and handy. But what's even cooler is that this lady, before getting off the phone, was so sweet in considering all that the little baby mice would need for the night, (being that she would not be able to arrange a pick up until the next day). She carefully told me all the things I already knew, and I let her. Then she went over it again in her mind, trying to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. I would not have been very surprised if she had told me to throw in a wee little teddy bear. It was really sweet, especially since these are not exactly reputable members of the society of mammals, but tiny little outcasts. It makes me sad to think of the rough life they have ahead of them. But back to this warm hearted rescue lady, I really think she deserves some recognition, and that is my reason for being here. All in all, it was a win win. She gets to do what she loves, I get to tap tap tap on my little glass keyboard, & the wee little beasties get to scurry and cower and chew. Right now the little cuties are snuggled up next to a toasty rice sock in a cardboard box in the vacant fireplace. It seemed like a nice sheltered place for them to be, and the iron grate adds a pleasant cradle effect. Gotta go, they just started squeaking for their breakfast.

 

a curious miscellany of thought...

I appreciated this good word in my reading today, and so I wanted to share it here. It was in a book by Jean Henri Fabre called The Story Book of Science. I'm quoting, here, the pertinent parts, as he stated this statement inbetwixt and among certain other parts which are not necessarily necessary. He said...

"If man is great through his intelligence, he is still greater through his heart...Knowledge, my little friend, is only a better means of aiding others."

I thought it both sweet and informative, (not unlike this poster that I found). What is he saying anyway? Kind of reminds me of Q-bert. Anyway, it may not be profound, but it helped me to refocus my efforts as a teacher (the quote, not the poster). I think we (people) think a lot about bettering ouselves, but to what end? I've always tried to be careful to remind myself and my kids that their education is not about growing up to get a high paying job. Hopefully other educators are also doing the same; but this bit about 'aiding others' trailing along after 'my little friend' could have a real impact in a world of wee go-getters, (especially when accompanied by this darling visual aid), don't you think? Well, that's enough on that topic, but remember, whether you teach young learners or not, and regardless of how big your brains are, without a heart, you're nothing but a tin man on a lonely brick road with a bunch of strangers in some whacked out dream.

So long as I'm here, I'd also like to report that I just saw a momma turkey and her little poult cross the field out my window. It was a lovely sight and, yes, it was the inspiration for this cute little poster. But I am sad to learn that baby turkeys are called poults, which makes one think of poultry, and ruins the whole effect. As an added bit of trivia, young males are Jakes, and young females are Jennies. I think I'm going to have to learn to tell the difference, just so I can show off that bit of knowledge, (that and Jakes and Jennies are way cuter than poults!) "Hannah, Emmeli, come quick and look at the poultry out my window!" I don't think so.

 

connectedness...

Disclaimer: Upon entering this blog, you may be thinking, awww, what a sweet little blog. But I have to tell you that sometimes pictures are deceiving; and sometimes bloggers ponder things a bit longer than what is necessary for any given subject. Sometimes they get wordy and write longish blogs which noone will wish to read.

I have a little something to say about people groups & the Saggy Baggy Elephant. Are you familiar with this story? There's an elephant named Sooki who is told by a parrot that there's something wrong with him. "What kind of animal are you, anyway?" So the elephant, at first, wants to be like the beautiful, sleek tiger whose skin fits so well. Then he tries to shrink his skin by soaking in water like the crocodile. But in the end, he finds a whole herd of big, brave, friendly elephants & fits right in. K. So now you know the story.

Having said that, I now want to tell you that this post has nothing to do with elephants & has nothing to do with being insecure about the way you look. Have you noticed the great abundance of information that we have swirling around us in this generation? It is likely that you have. And do you realize that your knowledge-set sets you apart even more so than your looks? So when you find someone who knows the things that you know, it really feels like a big deal, especially when you seem to know & like the obscure, overlooked details of the world.

It's like this: you go to get a coffee or buy a necklace at the art fair & someone makes an Emperor's New Groove reference, not expecting that you will notice. You think to yourself, now here's someone I can relate to! You may never speak to this person again, but it's certainly nice to know they're out there. It's reassuring when you happen to find someone like yourself in a great big world full of various people. Sometimes you may be reading a book where the author references some little-known work which it just so happens that you have read, or possibly a small out of the way town that it just so happens you've visited. You know that, had it not been familiar, you would've just skimmed right over that part, but instead, suddenly you feel like you're part of the club. It's not like this little bit O'knowledge makes you some kind of genius. You could have easily traveled the world & read a thousand other books and never got to that one mentioned. But the fact is, you did, & though you are parted by hundreds of years from the soul of this writer, suddenly you feel connected to something.

So, there is much to be said about this topic and there are a great many who say a great deal about it. I am not one of them. I have only a little to say, and we're now coming to the end of it. People are particularly worried about how we will all stay connected with our neighbors in this modern age of online communication. I have to agree that there is reason for concern here for the exact reason that I have mentioned. That is that people want to fit in, and one does not always fit into his/her immediate surroundings. People say, "What kind of animal are you, anyway?" And guess what, now you can Google it!

It's time for me to go now, but comfort yourself with this thought. I think, in this age of technology, people still just want the same things they have always wanted- to find real people who love the way they do, to come into contact with something familiar, especially for communication. If we all end up mute, due to the loss of verbal communication, then, well... I don't know what, but at least we'll have the comfort of knowing that somebody out there gets us.

 

just dumb stuff...

Sometimes I feel like my delicate heartstrings are being pulled in too many directions. This is one reason why I hate Facebook- too many feels! Sometimes, most times, I go to Pinterest where I can get ideas, organize my creative thoughts, etc... I think it's great, but I woudn't really call it a social network. And let's face it, sometimes you need human companionship! I feel this most acutely in the mornings when I'm waiting & waiting for people who are taking too long to come down for school. Occasionally, in times like these, I will log on to Ben's Facebook account (since I don't have one) & I'm usually cured of it for at least a few months for reasons before mentioned. My other little thing to do is to blog, but when I want to connect, blogging is just no substitute. The thing about blogs is that they are so one-sided. Luckily, Ben is coming home early today, and Becky is coming on Thursday, and now the kids are here too. Now we can bury ourselves in books and then maybe I'll take a little fresh air. That'll cure it. The heart of the matter is, I think I'm a little homesick-not for a place, really. I'm not sure what, to be honest, but I feel like the connected piece of me is now, not only unplugged, but lost under a couch somewhere or tossed into the wrong Rubbermaid. I don't think I want to be this disconnected, but the here & now is more often than not, plenty to take in. Well anyway, I told you it was dumb, I just needed to pass the time.

 

my boots became lighter & all is sunny & warm...

I know that yesterday was the first day of summer, but I have, here, a story that takes place on a blustery day in March, 2006. Well, it's not much of a story, really, as it's not being told by a storyteller. It's more of a sequence of events or an account. Emmeli was almost 2 years old at the time, so this was a long time ago, but I actually still remember it quite often. My memory loves those soft, little mittens and that sweet, sure voice. You'll see what I mean. I've thought about blogging this before, but each time I think, surely I've already blogged about that, & I better check to see if it's already here somewhere on the blog. Then I think, it doesn't matter, I'll just blog it again. Then for whatever reason, I just don't, unless I really have already blogged it, in which case it is now here 'who knows' how many times. Either way, I found this in an old journal I had from before I ever knew anything about blogs, and here it is as I wrote it in 2006 word-for-word.

(March 2, 2006) Today we took off Emmeli's baby bracelet. It was beginning to get too tight. *frowns* Last week we were up at Aunt Becky & Uncle Daniel's house. We had lots of fun playing with Iain, Claire, & Fiona. We played outside on the snow "mountain" built up by the snow plow. We also went sledding at Kiwanis on the new sleds that Grandpa made. That was lots of fun. The sleds made it all the way to the bottom of the hill, even though the snow was like powder. Hannah & Emmeli & I headed home a little early, because Hannah's little cheeks were getting blistered by the cold. Hannah rode back to Grandma & Grandpa's in Aunt Becky's car, while I walked back, carrying Emmeli. It was cold and windy and I was already a little tired from sledding. There was a steep driveway that I had to hike up to get back, and I think I must have been huffing & puffing a little. I was holding Emmeli in front with her little legs wrapped around my waist. I had her snuggled in tight to try to shield her from the wind & cold, though the wind was not so bad here because of the trees. Also, I think she was leaning back a little to compensate for my leaning forward as I walked up the hill. As we made our ascent, Emmeli took her soft, little mittens and held on tightly to my face. She looked me in the eyes and said, "I gotchoo." It was so sweet. And she was serious too. She held on firmly to my cheeks all the way up the hill. It turned out that we must have noticed the blisters on Hannah's cheeks right away, because they cleared right up when we all got in out of the snow. Snow & Daniel came home soon after we got there, along with Grandpa, Dad, Iain, & Claire. Grandma & Fiona had ridden back in the car with Aunt Becky & Hannah.

So, it's really sweet to have this paper memory of a trip up north, & cousins, & sledding, & grandpa's who make things, but the part which I have written down so many times in my mind is this... It's the scene in which I am toting something well worth the effort, but quite heavy nonetheless, uphill, in the snow. It doesn't have to be snowing outside to understand this concept. Sometimes, no matter what the weather, life gives us heavy boots. To this day, this same little person wants to get at me, square in the face, eye to eye, & deliver some sweet word of encouragement. I have lots of little cheermongers about, but due to this particular incident, with this one, I think I'll always feel baby mittens & hear "I gotchoo, Mommy."

 

now is a thing which you cannot repeat...

This is something like the start of a poem, which i may never write, but still it's all i've got:

 

Yesterday i wanted to write a poem, about you & me,

But i had not the strength nor the heart to move

It was too lovely & i too weak, as we rested there

And now i've forgotten the words

We were on the bed, it was not made

And the room was still messy

With the ironing board still out & unfolded laundry

But you & i, we rested there, in front of the fan, numbing our ears

with the still, steady, slow rise and fall of our comingled, undisturbed breathing

at last you slept lightly, with your knees tucked into the crook of mine

And i had not a care in the world, but a tearing at my heart

To wrestle away & pin down those carefree words

The ones which were shuffling around, trying to assemble

They were looking for the right combination, or forming a shape

Something like a feather to keep in my pocket

But i could not do it, I could not get away from you there with me

And anyway, i know cause i've tried, but a feather is never a key

 

then she realized that gum parkers are super gross...

Did you ever have a gum parker when you were a kid? Grossest thing ever invented, but I had one, & I used to park my gum there. In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, a gum parker is a little ceramic dish used for holding your abc gum, temporarily, while you eat dinner or take a nap. Then when you are done, you just unpark it and put the vile wad back into your mouth. (ABC stands for Already Been Chewed, btw.) That's really embarrassing. I can't believe I'm telling you this. Really, I'm just sort of grasping at straws, because what you don't know is that I have written a blog every day for the past three days at least, but none of them have been posted. I'm in a rut as they say, and can't seem to break out. Sometimes when I don't blog for awhile, it's because I'm just too busy, or I get out of the habit, or I have nothing to say. Currently, that is not the case. I have so much to say that the blogs are backing up in my brain. It's quite painful. In attempt to relieve some of the pressure, I've even taken to jotting down a list of future titles. Yesterday, I even helped Emmeli go through her sketchbook and come up with a title for every drawing, just because. Aside from snappy new titles, however, I just can't seem to spit it out, which brings me back to the abc gum. That's actually what reminded me of the gum parker. Most of these unpublished blogs are saved, and after already having chewed them to bits, sometimes I wake up the next day, still thinking about what I wrote the day before, and I go back to chewing and re-chewing. So, I'm sure if I were to ever publish them, finally, they'd be so void of flavor that you'd just be like, um... no thanks, I have my own gum. So, enough about that. Sorry to gross you out. Oh, but one more thing, I think I might have a bit of stagefright. I think that's what the problem is. I recently invited three new friends to my blog and I think I'm feeling a little insecure about that, but not to worry, I have a plan. Just a few more completely humiliating blogs like this one and I'll be sufficiently embarrassed not to care anymore.

 

placid gratifications...

Here I go. I'm going to exit this world of pretty pictures, poignant punning, & punctilious punctuation. I'm going to tend my lettuce and pick some daisies and recycle some weeds. It has been said that he who clears a field renders a better service to mankind than all the scribblers in Europe.* I don't know if I fully agree with that statement, but for now, I think I will just go along.

*It was Voltaire who said that; it just sounded weird & nerdy to throw that in at the end of the sentence. I debated leaving out the reference, but I couldn't do it, so I'm telling you now.

 

handpicked, just for you...

Here is a poem Hannah wrote a couple of years ago. Enjoy.

Achoo, Achoo the spoon

How sweet you are, the tea sets swoon

They smile & sigh with no ill eye

Until the kettle cries, up so high

On the stove, singing and shouting,

"Here comes the maid! to make her mistress some tea!"

The kettle jumps with glee

So do the tea sets, Achoo the spoon, and the saucer

 

a fond farewell...

Once upon a time there was a blog about the misadventures of a family bike trip to the park. It was a bit of a train wreck. It had some lovely elements and beautiful memories of laughter and jollity, but it's gone now. (May it rest in peace.) As a note to self, just remember... the sweetness of Emmeli riding her little heart out with a backpack full of ice water and pickles, and a tiny green inchworm named Enchilada. I should go lest I ruin it again.

 

little bird...

I know this is such a simple everyday ordinary thing, but it inspired me. So sometimes there are things that inspire us to see things differently, or to act differently, etc... But sometimes, I just get inspired to no particular end. So maybe inspired isn't the word I'm looking for. Anyway, what happened was this... Ben & I went out for coffee. We're pinching our pennies right now, but regardless, Ben wanted to go out with me to my favorite spot, so we scrounged up some change and we went. (For those of you who have seen the picture, this was the same day that I got the photo of him kneeling down next to the baby bird who was begging for crumbs on the corner downtown. It was apparently a very bad, invasive species type, but we decided not to squish it. It's a sweet picture.) So, of course, before getting coffee we had to stop at the recycle center to spend some of the money that we don't have. It's on the way. And it was there from whence the so-called inspiration came. I feel a little silly for mentioning it now that we come to the point. It really is no big deal, but isn't it funny that I'm still thinking about it a week later. We met a busy lady there, pilfering through old belongings as we were, looking for some treasure. She was busy, but in a care-free sort of way, busy, because why else would you be at the recycle center, but perfectly content to leave with nothing. What was special was that she was having such a lovely time telling us all about her most treasured finds and her favorite spots around town for finding such things. In short, she divulged all her secrets willingly, a sort of hoarder without the greediness. As I said, she left without buying any junk and said goodby to the cashier, who she knew by name. We saw her again outside and it turned out that she was the wife of Ben's boss's boss's boss or something. I'm sure we'll see her again someday since we'll be visiting all the spots she recommended. I look forward to it. Why would I mention such a seemingly meaningless encounter? It's certainly not because we met the big wife of a bigwig, certainly not! I abhor such things! It's for no other reason than mentioning the little bird, but when the bigwig is the little bird, it makes it all the more muchy.

 

i'm keeping them all...

I need to write something. I have no time. But this writing thing is healing to my soul. Just one quiet moment with me and the brain and I will think of something. Or if I don't think, that is okay too. The words just land on the paper. If they were brave little words, they would fly away in an instant, but they're not. They're shy. So they will come to me again for approval, and I'll encourage them along, or shelter them. Either way, with much deliberation, we will at some point come to a conclusion, and the final result will be that they are not birds, they are words. So they shall be stamped onto the paper. And there they shall stay. Embedded. Embossed. To be imbibed. Let them soar, let them sing, but let them stay. I told you I was greedy.

 

Easter egg...

Wish i would have thought of this on Mother's Day. That would've been brilliant! But i didn't. I thought of it just now, when it wasn't even Mother's Day, and i think that makes it even more special. I love you, Mom; i know you probably won't read this until like three months from now, (because you never check your email), but that's just fine.

Easter egg (noun)

1. a colored hard-boiled egg used to celebrate Easter

2. an intentional hidden message, or feature in a work such as a computer program, video game, movie, book, or crossword. The term was coined at Atari by personnel who were alerted to the presence of a secret message which had been hidden by game designer Warren Robinett in his already widely distributed game, Adventure. The name has been said to evoke the idea of a traditional Easter egg hunt. What fun!

fruitful regions gladdened by plenty...

So this morning i was reading thru some old blogs. It was so much fun! I'm an awesome blogger! Hehe. Man, there were so many typos & little things that i wanted to tweak, but i didn't. (I told you that, because i wanted you to know how brave i am.) Also, all this writing is really paying off... A. Because i don't think there are nearly as many typos in my more recent blogs. & B. Because i have such a nice little collection! Anyway, i don't know if you've noticed, but i've been making a lot of book recommendations lately. I just want you to know, i'm not getting paid for that. I just like to share my inspiration. My blog has never really had a purpose, other than to just share my wee little heart with all of my favorite people in the world, but now i feel like it might have a purpose! It can be a recommender of random things- books, movies, quotes, and whatnot. It's not like i haven't been doing that already, so i'm not changing anything. It just helps me to notice this pattern since all the other blogs seem to be about crafting, politics, homesteading, gardening, cooking, or whatever, and i just sort of blog about.... me. So anyway, i don't really have anything to offer this morning. I just wanted to write something. It's kind of like talking to myself. It's become sort of a habit with me. Have a lovely day all you lovely people out there. Make it a good one!

Ps. Since i'm sitting here patting myself on the back about less typos, i thought i should mention that i left all those i's uncapitalized on purpose.

Pss. Daniel wants to know why i want to have a blog for blogging if i'm just going to blog about blogging and other blogs.

 

days with frog and toad...

Have my blogs been a bit negative lately? For some reason I think maybe they have, but I'm not going to look. I think the fact that I don't want to look may be a good indicator. Well, I'll let you be the judge, but just know that it is not my intention to be gloomy. This morning when I woke up it was sunny and beautiful & I thought, maybe I can go out to the garden for a few minutes before we start school, but I decided instead to write a blog. The next thing I knew, I looked up and the sky was gray and sprinkling rain. Coincidence? Maybe. All I know is that showers will come, and they usually come in April. This morning I read a seemingly negative statement, not on my blog, somewhere else. At first glance it sounded uber depressing, but as I thought about it, it actually encouraged me... a lot. It said, "Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets." I have a lot of regrets. My life is riddled with regrets. They follow me around, yes, like a little toad, or in this case a frog, but also like a kite tail, I must say. This blog can only hold one picture at a time, but the point that I'm trying to illustrate here is that I can't shake 'em. Everytime I look back, there they are, dancing and taunting me, begging for attention: I haven't taken as many pictures as I'd like...I haven't spent enough time playing with my kids... I need to pray more... and I've neglected long distance friends and relatives. These things bother me, and the fact that they bother me bothers me, but this morning I had a breakthrough with this little quote I found. I hope I don't soon forget it. These are the right kind of regrets. Though I'd rather not have any, if I'm going to have them, these are the ones I want to have. These are the things that keep me up at night, and I think I'm okay with that now. Maybe I'm not such a terrible horrible monster of a person. Maybe I just love the things that make life beautiful and as a created, creative, loved, loving being, I just want to keep moving forward. We all have regrets, I think. The trick is not regretting regrets. That kind of ultra negativity is debilitating. What are you lamenting? If you find your heart fighting for more of what's beautiful and lovely in life, I say let it fight.

P.s. I changed the title for this blog three times before I settled on this one. I'm not going to tell you my other choices, because I'm happy with this one. It's a title robbed from a beloved children's book- a family favorite. If you're not familiar with Frog and Toad, please familiarize yourself a.s.a.p.

 

really, really....

I don't really have time to blog right now, but really quick, I have something to say. Sometimes I really don't like the thoughts that go round and round in my head. When that happens, I get really quiet; I don't have anything to share. When I feel really awesome, that is when I start writing things down. So...

A. You may never know the rest of the story,

B. Not everything needs to be talked about, and...

C. The reason I am stating this most obvious fact is because, I was wondering where all of this babble comes from. I mean sometimes, once I get started?... well, you already know, don't you? When that happens, I think the answer is that my brain has to move really fast in order to make up for lost time. Don't ask me why. That's just the way of it. So, to sum up, I'm not always this chatty, but it's such a joy to think happy thoughts, really!

 

negative asset manager...

Today's blog will start with me saying, today is my birthday. I am forty today & upon waking, my handsome husband informed me that I am now over the hill. (He's four months younger than me.) I'm really not worried about being "over the hill". I just can't be bothered with that sort of thing. But to be honest, when he said that, in spite of all of the negative associations attached to that phrase, I thought, phew, what a relief. I mean, life is tough. In some ways and on some days, I'm ready to get off this crazy train. But now that I'm putting a little more thought into this, one does have to reach the top of the hill before geting over it, right? So for today, actually for this whole year, I must be on top of the hill. I like on top of the hill. I've made it this far, and it's a lovely lovely view, so I might as well enjoy it. If next year I am to begin the descent into the valley, so be it. Valleys are lovely, dark, and deep.... and lush and green .... and lovely. But honestly, I may just keep climbing. In the distance there are taller peaks as far as the eye can see, so as long as I'm in the climbing mood, I can just keep doing what I've been doing. At each summit, if I still feel like climbing, I guess I'll just keep going until it becomes necessary to climb down. I guess it's possible for the Lord to just pick me up at the top, too. There's always that option. When I was a little person and climbed way up into the tops of trees, I was never very good at climbing down, so I guess this is kind of like that. I do want to say, though, that although I am not concerned about this thing (turning forty), I think it's quite natural to do a bit of soul searching upon reaching this landmark. And so, I did mine while watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. I have to admit, it's a bit cheesy at parts, but it has a wonderful overall feel to it and a great theme: “To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other and to feel. That is the purpose of life.” I've seen the movie before. As I was trapped in my room (because the kids were decorating), I thought I'm turning forty tomorrow...oh well, let's watch a movie. Walter Mitty. Perfect. Not at all like the usual scrolling and scrolling until you are so tired of looking that you just want to go to bed. When I saw Ben Stiller standing there with his brief case, I just knew. And I was right. Anywho, I robbed my title from there and the motto is nice, and, all in all, I really thought it made for an excellent transition into adulthood, since apparently that's where I'm headed.

 

the spleen...

The woods are lovely, dark, & deep. Normally I would have made that the title of this blog... actually, normally if I was feeling like the woods are lovely, dark, & deep, I probably just wouldn't blog at all, but this blog is meant to be a little backwards and upside down. I'll tell you why. Some people may think my blogs are uncaptivating, so this blog is meant to captivate. For those of you who do not know, the spleen is not only a dark red oval organ on the left side of the body, it is also often used as an obscure reference to feelings of morose and bad temper. Some people like to mention the spleen, a lot. I'm more of a kidney kind of gal myself. All the while that spleens are holding on to ill will, kidneys are curing and purifying and cleansing. I just came up with that. It's true, but it's kind of funny. I really do mention the kidneys about as often as Swift mentions the spleen, but there never was any logic to it until now. So let us start by saying an artist captures things that ought to be shared. I say ought, and I guess that's debatable, but I believe in sharing. Perhaps sometimes there are things that ought not to be shared, like when you are painting or singing or writing and all that comes out is anguish. That's not really helpful... or is it? I guess a little anguish now and then could be helpful. It helps people to see that you are human and that they are human, just incase someone happened to forget that. Regarding blogs, I realize that if all that's being offered is super sweet like Sugar Rush, people may leave a little hungry, but maybe that is just my calling. Maybe sometimes people need a break from beef jerky & Heroe's Duty. So my blogs are not lovely, dark, and deep. By keeping some parts of me hidden, I may appear to be tame and uninteresting, at worst, shallow, but I'm okay with that. I do have an abrasive side, it's just not my best side; and the world is exciting enough.

P.s. I know this blog sounds like all my other blogs, but I tried. I thought I was on the right track when I came up with that title. It was all downhill from there.

 

i, me, my...

I love it when I come to my blogging app & find an old blog that I never posted. That's what happened with my previous post. I am not currently at the coffee shop with Ben, but I was at the coffee shop with Ben, and I felt it blogworthy at the time, which is something special. Sometimes I feel self conscious about blogging. I never have been able to keep a journal before starting this online one, because I couldn't bear to go back & read what I had written. I was forever tearing out journal pages until one day I started over, here. I recently started a garden journal which is bound in such a way that if you tear out pages, the other pages start falling out, so I've taken to pasting pages together when I want to hide things- pretty brilliant, eh? Here on this blog I get a little insecure about the fact that I'm always talking about myself, how I feel about things & what not, like now, as I'm writing about how I feel about writing. I can't seem to break away from this writing about writing. It reminds me of this book we have called How to Read a Book. How do you read a book about how to read a book? The answer is, you don't. You hang in there until about 1/3 of the way through and then you make a conscious decision to stop reading said book. Anyway, I'm coming to peace with the fact that I may never stop writing about writing. It's really okay. If that's what keeps me going, I'm just going to go with it. But I do sympathize with those of you who receive these posts through email. I mean, only my dearest friends and family belong to that group, and you can't very well email me and ask me to stop or ask to be removed- sorry guys. But to my children who all love to write- maybe someday when you are stuck, you will find a friendly voice here, and I say to you, keep writing. Say something. Whatever is on your heart, put it on paper, on screen, or whatever, because those who love you want to know more about you, and those who don't know you, will wish they did when they are done. At least they will have had a glimpse of something real. So, now that we've got the preliminaries out of the way... on to the goods. This is always the way it happens, which is why I have learned to persevere. Sometimes I say some really silly things and I like that about myself. But what I like even more about that is the way that Ben and Daniel pick up on those ridiculous remarks and make known to me my own folly. You can't retract those things once they've slipped out. You can certainly keep them to yourself if you are quick enough, but what fun is that? There is something very freeing about laughing at oneself, and not needing to explain oneself, and knowing that you are loved even if you are very foolish. I think I should have liked to have been a fool if I had lived in medieval times. I can still be one today, but it just doesn't carry with it the same clout without the getup and garb and title. I think my biggest brag is that I once took an online quiz which qualified me as a traveling minstrel of ye olden days. I've sort of taken that on as my trademark I think. I'm sure I've blogged about it before. I realize that minstrels were musicians and I am not one, but I don't let that bother me. They also told stories and entertained & stuff. The best part is they were companions. They were endeared to those who accompanied them AND they got to travel. I'd much rather be a wandering fool than a situated master mind...though I admire both. That may be my folly, but you never know, it may also be my genius.

 

vamoose...

At the coffee shop with ben. I love at the coffee shop with ben.

 

write that down, SpongeBob...

I feel like I need to apologize for romanticizing every little commonplace thing I happen to encounter in this life, but whenever I have a supreme moment or experience, it is left up to me capture that greatness. If the brain is swirling with wonderment, how else to paint a worthy picture other than with lovely swirls and textures. Tonight was an epic evening, though nothing really extraordinary happened. We just went to a show, that's all, but the brief interlude was such a lovely string of events so suitably banded together that as I walked it out, I felt like I was watching my own life in a movie. Like all good things, it started with a feeling of discontent. I know that sounds weird. It just sort of came out, but think about it... when God said it was not good that man should be alone, did not he maketh woman?.... also when you feel bad about something you've said or done, does it not lead you to reconciliation? Good things can come from discontentment. Anyway this discontentment led me to want to do something different today. I had to get out of the house. Suddenly I had the bright idea to go to a movie. There's a new Miyazaki film that just came out called The Wind Rises & I knew that everyone would want to see it. I did a quick check & found it was playing in about an hour. So with a bit of scurrying around, a quick double braiding of one's hair, and a tallying of allowances, we were out the door. It was free parking day downtown. We flew into the parking garage did a quick parallel park & all six of us dashed down the stairs, down the street, & into the wrong theater. Luckily the right theater was only a block away. It was an old theater (built in 1942) & not very well kept, but super quaint, because it was so tiny & the seats were snug & we were all super cozy. The movie was bright & beautiful, just as one would expect. Emmeli leaned over & said, "I love his movies." But I'm telling you there was something in the air, it's really indescribable, but that's why they call it something in the air. As I looked around, everything was so picturesque. Maybe I was just inspired by the artwork in the movie, but I wanted to paint that little theater with it's red curtained walls, it's wonderfully tight seating plan, & all of those little heads poking up from the chairs in front of me. Maybe it's because we were all so close, but I felt strangely connected to that room full of grownup-sized fans of painted movies, though I don 't remember seeing one face. There were a couple of old ladies sitting behind us. I never looked back, but they giggled several times during the movie at things that weren't even funny. The giggles were so sweet & elderly; I promise they sounded just like some old ladies out of another Miyazaki film (probably Ponyo). Infact, I think that's what first caught my attention & alerted me to the fact that something special was happening. I was like, hey, what are they doing here? Actually I had my first hint as we rounded the street corner and smelled popcorn in the air and saw the guy up on the ladder changing the sign in front of the old theater. I just love it when people do things the old way, makes everything feel so legit. So, all of these things coupled with the excitement in Emmeli's eyes! You'd think that the two of us had never been to a show before, we were both so excited. There was another moment in the film where a small child in the theater laughed out loud, a high squealed, superbly babish laugh at just the right moment, as if it had been dubbed into my life story. Do you ever have those moments? where for a moment it's like everything is playing out in slow motion, everything is so perfect and you just want to hold on to and delight in it? I know even with all of this exhortation, I'll never relive this animated little short- the piling into and out of the theater, the dash to & from the car, Emmeli bubbling over with excitement in her little braids, & my childlike, in-tune amazement & wonder at this simple pleasure, a Sunday trip to the movies. It's not that I'll never go to the movies again, or that I'll not yet again marvel at life's simple pleasures, but the beauty of this particular night is cherishable & I want to keep it the only way I know how- filed away, documented, logged into my dearly beloved little commentary.

 

last but not least...

I know to the wrong ears this could sound ridiculous, but I really think this is so sweet. I'll do my best to tell you all about it. A couple of days ago we resurrected Mario Sunshine. (It's a video game.) It used to be our all-time favorite back when it was released in 2002. (That's so crazy. That was twelve years ago!) Maybe we didn't get it when it first came out; maybe it was 2003. Anyway, it's hard to say how long we played this game before it took a back seat to some other video game, but let's just say it became a meaningful part of our family history. Some families have a pool, or a boat, or a cabin in the woods upon which they build family memories; we had Mario Sunshine, and we were happy. In a book titled Story of Success, which I have not read by the way, it repeatedly mentions the "10,000-Hour Rule", claiming that the key to success in any field is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing a specific task for a total of around 10,000 hours. We were all quite good at the game, so I'm just going to assume that we played at least that much. So, 2003.... that means Snow was 7, Daniel was 4, Hannah- 2 & Emmeli- unborn. Assuming we played for at least a couple of years to allow for 10,000 hours, by the time we stopped playing I'm guessing Emmeli was at most 3. The kids have continued to play on and off over the years, but at some point it sort of fizzled out as a family objective. Recently, as I said, we've been playing again, really just for novelty purposes. We were going to see if we could beat the game in one night. Well, of course we didn't, but it has awakened in us a common goal once again. I'm glad I now have all this history recorded, but this was not the purpose of this post. What inspired me to write was this (1) Last night while holding Hannah's hand, with Em sitting on my lap, Ben holding my other hand, & Snow snuggling up next to me while we watched Daniel play his turn, I felt like my kids were all still quite small enough. That is very strange, because it's usually altogether the opposite feeling. I was just so thankful to be all together completely enthralled in this brightly colored world where you run around & spray things with water to beat a weird looking turtle-dog & rescue a pink princess. So that's #1. (2) Sunday night when we were playing, I went downstairs to make everyone a snack & Emmeli came down to keep me informed of what was happening in the story on the game. She told me, excitedly, that Koopa had kidnapped Peach because he thought she was his mommy (as if I didn't know). As she told me this as if it was new news, it dawned on me that this new development with its old familiar feelings for the rest of us was all new to her. The game was not new to her, it was playing it together that was new. It totally warmed my heart. It was an initiation of sorts into our little Mario Sunshine club, which I know sounds ridiculous, but I can't think of any other way to add the proper significance. Sometimes I feel like Em misses out on so many things that the older kids had when they were small, because now we have big (almost adult) kids & family dynamics have changed. When Snow & Daniel were still small, & Hannah was a baby, we were all about Winnie the Pooh and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom & PB&J Otter. Now we're all about the Avengers, & Clue, & the olympics. Not that Emmeli is a baby, but I'm talking about even when she was a toddler. We were just already over all of those books & games we had read/ played120 times over. We had already graduated into Emperor's New Groove, Little Big Planet, & Fantastic Mr. Fox. All of those things are great, they're my favorite, but they're not quite the Discovery Toys, Mother Goose type family times of old. So anyway, this is quite a blog & I have so many other things I should be doing; but life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

 

daylight savings...

"I have to wake up at seven for it to be eight?! My life is ruined!" ~ Emmeli

 

jolly well right...

"So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do." ~from p. 44

 

long intro...

So, those of you who have been following my blog know that occasionally I just publish these seemingly random one-liners, usually stolen from something I've read... I won't say they are completely unoriginal, because they are indeed original, otherwise I would not have stolen them. I just happened not to be the originator. I do, however, try to always give credit to the author. I realize that since you do not live inside my head, you probably often wonder what in the heck the thing is supposed to mean, but I hope, that that is not the case. I hope it is, in the least, somehow thought provoking for you, even if it does not provoke the same thoughts which I am now thinking to myself.* So here's todays provocation, although I think it is a bit awkward to announce a one-liner, sort of takes away the whole effect. In fact, nevermind. I'm going to reserve it for another post. But, other than the fact that I'm just feeling a bit chatty & wanted to say a little bit more, I wanted to make apologies for not remembering where I stole this most recent line from. All I know is that it's on p.44. Sorry. I often jot these things down, but this time, I apparently forgot to include all of the necessary information. Also, you may notice a bit of catch up over the next few days, because I've accumulated a few of these on random scraps of paper & I want to be sure to deposit them here before they are lost. This is my savings place, where I save my musings for future reference, but you already know that. Thanks for sharing in my thoughts & feelings. I know if you are reading this you care about the writing side of me, which is not entirely the same as the face to face me & that means a lot.

* If you have ever seen the movie "Up", then this last sentence should be read in the voice of Doug. Sometimes, when I'm feeling wordy, my thoughts spew out in the voice of Doug. I love talking in the voice of Doug; & I would be happy to talk with the voice of Doug every day all of the time if people would not kill me for talking like Doug.

 

subdued apprehensive noncomformist...

"Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears."

 

apocalypse guru...

I don't really want to write about this, I just liked the title, but I'm just going to go with it. Since this year could very well mark the end of the world, let's talk about it. Have you ever looked up the word apocalypse? In Webster, it's defined as a cosmic cataclysm in which God destroys the ruling powers of evil. (We're just going with that definition for now.) So here's the burning question... Why are people so afraid of that?

old but new...

So I originally wrote this blog just before Christmas, but I never posted it. Today I decided to blog something (sort of a forced blog); and when I opened my app, I found this old blog here. I thought it was kind of sweet so I'm posting it. I think somewhere about half-way through, I knew I was just going to delete it, so I just kept rambling to see if I could somehow get inspired to write something worthwhile. So being that no one was ever meant to read this, this is kind of a treat for you. At the same time, it may serve as an explanatory apology as to why I haven't been blogging lately, namely because all efforts have been rather unsatisfactory. It may be interesting to note that today "I have nothing to write" just as I stated at the beginning of this old blog here, & I may very well have started today's blog in the same fashion. Also I am still dreaming about my bookshop. In fact, I've been working on an old book project non-stop for the past three days. (When I say non-stop, what I mean is that I do stop sometimes, but not very often.) We've been talking about talking in absolutes & exaggerations around here lately and how we should probably stop, but I'm sure I won't. Some people feel a need to romanticize and I think it's safe to include me in that general category. Those other people who live here may try to stop, but I doubt they will succeed. Incase you are wondering, the old book project I am working on is me categorizing all of our old books into a searchable database. It's pretty cool. So anyway, here's the blog. Ben finished my picture by the way. It's awesome! I love it so much. Anybody who wants to see it can email me & I'll send him/her a real live photo of it. Enjoy...

I have nothing to write. But sometimes even when you don't feel like writing, you just have to write something, even if you just embarrass yourself, even if you mispell words and use incorrect grammar. Because if you don't, and if you worry too much about what other people think, then you just become a clam, clammy & cold & hidden. Ben is painting me a picture. It's Albrecht Durer's Young Hare. It's one of my favorite paintings & I'm posting a copy of it here. My puppy just came in the room. He's so sleepy. It's 8am, but he slept in today. He usually gets up with me around 7, but this morning I was up before 5:30 & he wanted nothing to do with it. I really really have nothing to say, so let's just start the newsreel. It's almost Christmas. (My sleepy puppy has just decided to go back to sleep.) The fire is dying. The sun is a bright orange fireball, florescent orange, looking exceptionally trendy this morning. There's snow everywhere & the orange sun is casting a pinkish haze on the frosty trees. Next to the sky blue sky, I have to admit this is not my favorite combo. I never have been a fan of pink & blue together. I just want to swirl it around with the white snow & make lavender. The sun really is amazing though! but I'm trying not to stare because it's rude. Just outside my window there are several brown leaves still clinging to some low branches & I want to go outside & pluck them off. And now I'm completely distracted. K. The news. The kids have all been busy making Christmas presents, well almost all. Ben recently put up some barn beams in the house & they look awesome. Hannah & Em helped me clear all of the antiques out of the basement room & we're planning to make a sort of indoor fort down there. I wrapped all of my Christmas presents in red & black this year & they look awesome. We have a live tree. It is adorable. This year we have an Advent wreath. As we count down to Christmas, we light a new candle each week; & we read a section of the Christmas story each night (not just the story about wise men and angels, but the whole Christmas story starting with Adam & Eve & the promise to Abraham & prophesy, etc...). It's pretty neat. Ben plays guitar & we sing caroIs. Okay, this is unrelated, sort of, but I just remembered something. I think I have a new dream. I used to think I wanted to grow up & be a coffee pedlar or a photographer, but now I think I want to be a bookseller. Maybe I will have an adjoining coffee shop, kind of like a borders for used books. There's an old bookshop downtown and I want it, the whole messy place. I want to organize it & shelve it and sit behind the counter & wait to see who will come in; & if no one comes in, then I'll just read or work on my window display. I think this is the best way to grow old, in a bookstore with snow on the ground, and a coffee shop nearby.