storms

whether real or imagined.

can be beautiful.

perspective is really what’s so important.

it’s all in how one look at things.

if only we all had the perspective of a 6 year-old.

they embrace storms with arms wide open.

with curiosity and courage.

they aren’t afraid to go out into the lightning.

because they want to feel the wetness on their bare skin.

and dance in the rain.

*sigh*

oh to be 6 again.

i am sharing this:

“…all who love justice and hate iniquity must be forever discontented, must see a great number of things ill done by themselves and others, and must be longing to restore all things in Christ. by prayer, example, encouragement, denunciation, we have all labored to bring the reign of justice, yet are conscious of how much still remains to be done. yet despite this chronic state of discontent, the heart should be at PEACE.”

i didn’t write the author’s name when i copied it down. sorry.

words like that go great with a small bowl of ice cream, don’t ya think?

just peachy

no pun intended.

those peaches are peachy. and juicy too!

but i am just peachy.

not juicy.

the farmer’s market is in full swing here. we withdrew our membership to the local CSA and are going instead. weekly. to the market. to pick out what we want. as opposed to getting a box per their selection. is it more costly. yes. because by the time we get there. naturally everyone is hungry. and then there are the vendors. and then everyone is thirsty. and then there are more vendors. so. i become mean. “we are only here for fruit and veggies.” i say. “so starve.”

not really.

we drink fresh-squeezed o.j. and taste all sorts of delicious samples. one week we try mexican food. another greek. sometimes i throw in a beaded ring (why those are swarovski crystal beads, mama! (as if that should matter) ). or an exotic looking bracelet. and if i am feeling really generous, honey sticks. and of course if i say no, nana says yes. she is nicer.

on a different note: i am knee-deep in piles of sympathy clutter. you know that stuff which every person who knows you “homeschool” likes to send your way. 2 million sheets of orange paper from the neighbors. 10 lbs. of foamy/shape/ stickers from the mechanic’s wife. the 37 spiral bound notebooks from great-grandma.

oh, yes, folks. it’s ALL going in the trash or to the thrift store.

even some much-loved artwork belonging to the children i love so dearly.

there will be some tears. hence my strategy of using black trash bags. it is harder to see just what mama is throwing away.

and frankly, being clutter free makes me just peachy too!

now if only i felt that way about really. officially. starting school………………

anew

anew. -adverb. 1. over again. again. once more. to play the tune anew. 2. in a new form or manner. to write the story anew.

august. summers’ lease winding down. yet it is still so hot. everyone is getting to bed a little earlier. short lessons replace non-stop fun. a skeleton of a schedule is scribbled on notebook paper. stacks of index cards and colorful post-it notes grace the inside of a creamy white crate on the bookshelf next to my bed. promising that i’ll “get it right” this year.

this is the homeschool song.

it is the tune we’ve played for eleven years now.

a very big part of the story of us.

i won’t go into details about books or curriculum. it might overwhelm you.

heck. it overwhelms me!

and besides. this experience is unique to every family.

i don’t have all of the answers. every year is different. every child different.

and i don’t do this with the hope of being that family anymore.

you know that family. the one with the traveling band. wearing matching/color-coordinated outfits. bringing in millions of dollars of revenue every year. they read the bible six hours a day. cook fine french cuisine. the children speak eleven different languages and have already been accepted to harvard.

nope.

we are this family.

unique and precious in the eyes of God.

we struggle. and succeed. and struggle again.

it is the same story anew.

the story of the cross.

the story of the christian: family. homeschool. etc.

so that table didn’t get painted quite yet. and the books haven’t all arrived on time.

but the enthusiasm is fresh. the crayons are still sharp.

sort of.

and there is a new black kitty who loves: to be snuggled. eat broiled salmon. plain greek yogurt. and sleep in the bathroom sink.

so deep down i really don’t expect we’ll ever get it right.

but tone-deaf or not i keep on listening.

’cause i really love our song…..

giving them what they need

time to create. imagine. play. breathe fresh air and take long walks in search of baby pine trees and new flowers we’ve never seen before. making friends with wee small creatures. firsthand sightings of jack rabbits and chipmunks. blue jays. woodpeckers. and mountain chickadees. some old friends. others new.

during this little “break” i finished a few projects that have been in the WIP basket for a while.

yes, in a step towards organization i actually made a basket for all of the WIP’s and have committed to working on them one by one. vowing not to start anything new. but adding it to my “list” in my home-keeping notebook if it is a project i can’t get out of my head. (like some black sock knit fingerless gloves for myself)

i am so glad to have finished that rag doll. she was so important to my girl and once i got started i didn’t want to stop. the days for snuggling with rag dolls are not long enough and before i know it she’ll be on to other things.

however, chances are, if you give a girl a rag doll, she is going to want clothes to go with it… so i have been busily working on hand-sewn outfits. blouses and petticoats. (nana made the skirt). not easy. so tedious. and such little stitches. but i have to admit: i love hand sewing. i think this is really my forte. it is very soothing to me. and not much is involved. just fabric. needles and thread. ( i did create a little pattern for the blouse i made though. so as to avoid it not fitting properly. that can be so frustrating!)

so there was a little tooth tucked away in a pocket of my purse. it has been there for weeks. i am ashamed to admit this publicly, but it is sometimes like this for fourth children. they wait patiently for mama to do the things she once leapt up enthusiastically to do for the first and second child. and mama, in order not to fail completely, comes up with this clever pillow. hoping that forgiveness will come…and it does. luckily the fourth child is pretty forgiving.

i am thinking about school. still not sure what i’m gonna do. the clock is ticking though. i hear it. yet i put a pillow over it to cover up the incessant ticking. why? when this is my 11th year? and i should be a pro by now. why am i so insecure? and unsure?

because i don’t let God. that’s why.

and because giving them what they need is so much harder than giving them what they want.

not these two. but the bigger ones.

it’s exhausting really.

and one should not have to think such exhausting thoughts in august.

laugh often

at yourself.

and then use a good. free. photo editor.

joining nadja, i did this self-portrait thing.

you should try it too.

focus on your assets (because we all have them).

mine: lip gloss and new haircut.

the sun and its damaging effects is a lot like a good piece of cheesecake. all is fine and well in the moment. but later it’ll bite you in the butt. or in my case: the forehead.

don’t i look younger? though. with this short little cut.  it’s amazing what a new hairdo will “do”.

i had something else in mind. but my sister-in-law/hairdresser nora, sat me down. let me tell her what i wanted and then proceeded to tell me “that’s fine. but i am still going to do whatever i want.”

ok then.

so it was shorter than i intended. but so perfect for summer.

and eating good cheesecake.

and it is a breeze to wash.

and these days i am all about easier ya know.

today in the shower i didn’t even shave my legs all.the.way. i cheated and measured right about where my capris would “show”.

i wanted to hurry up and get out.

i had a lot on my mind.

like how i desperately needed to get to the library. and to the store to buy more borax.

i love borax so. much. it makes things so white. and clean.

i really am this boring interesting in real life.

oh. and speaking of love: there was this desert flower. it was blooming in my grandma’s front yard. all yellow and bright like the morning sun.

and these grilled pita. veggie pizzas. so easy. and so good.

and of course if one is truly living well there has to be sewing.

red work to be exact.

i have great plans for more roses like this one. but i can’t say them out loud. or they’ll never happen. so that’s all for now.

and. finally. for that sweet minnesota mama. and because i pretty much had all of the “blonde” cut off of my own head:

so there was a blonde. and she went to see a ventriliquist perform. he didn’t “notice” her in the audience and began telling dumb blonde jokes (as part of his act). everyone laughed but she became offended. stood up. and told him how she felt. upset that everyone stereotypes blondes as dumb. and stupid. he apologizes profusely. and she says to him: “shut up. i am not talking to you. i am talking to that jerk who is sitting on your lap.”

i am still laughing at this one.

my cheeks hurt. and i am outta here.

i hope your days too are filled with lots of meaningful conversations. good food. creative endeavors. and any(or even all) of  the millions of beautiful things and moments there are to be had.

xo.

till there was you

we recently saw an outdoor production of the music man. one of our favoritest movies ever.

spell check says favoritest is not a word. i say phooey to spell check.

i love this song from the movie. but i could do without the spanish subtitles you tube has so generously provided. however, they are not to blame for the goofy look on paul’s face which makes me ponder how the beatles became so incredibly famous….i guess some things are just meant to be.

it is so good to be home. traveling long distances with my husband and children and staying in hotels and eating too much restaurant food makes me really grumpy for some reason.

i truly believe the hum of the fridge. the whirrrrr of the air conditioning and the bright lights glaring into our room also had something to do with it. but i am still not sure. and the fact of the matter is there is NO place like home. even a hot and messy one!

the bad news is my grandmama faces a double mastectomy. the cancer is bad and is spreading into her chest. and she is still undecided whether or not to go thru with the surgery at her age.

courageous and so sad at the same time.

the good news is: i was able to write down the story of how she and my grandfather met.

and i have been wanting to do that for some time.

so it is done.

and so now, on this hot august nite. i will go take my place next to my tired husband. (he always does all of the driving).  and think about the good things in life.

i remain forever the optimist, dear readers.

because the fact is: till there was you, i was more inclined to focus on the bad.

i need this place.

not all of the time.

but it helps me to clear my head. and semi-connect with other like-minded souls.

i haven’t officially announced a “break” per se. but my absence here once in a while is a good thing. it means i am doing what i am supposed to be doing. i am not overly concerned with stats or hits. oddly enough more people find me via their search for dumb blonde jokes. and although that is not really what i’d like to be remembered for i do have another good one if you’d like…