Tropical Velvet

Love Song Addendum

2012-02-18T22:19:00.004-07:00

As promised, here are a few more love songs:

Unchained Melody, Righteous Brothers
At Last, Etta James
The Way I Am, Ingrid Michaelson
Just the Way You Are, Billy Joel
Prairie Song, Gene Loves Jezebel
When the Night Comes, Dan Auerbach
2000 Miles, Coldplay cover

A few things I loved from today: a run on the parkway, lunch with a friend, a cozy nap in the afternoon, perusing new poetry books from Martin.

Love Songs Revisited

2012-02-17T21:55:00.005-07:00

This may be cheating, but I think this deserves another round.* And, quite possibly, an upgrade: do you have any new songs (or new discoveries of older songs) in the last three years that you would add to this list? My additions coming tomorrow.

*My apologies for the links that no longer work....

A Couple of Quotes

2012-02-16T22:03:00.005-07:00

One of the best descriptions I've ever heard about the giddy, uncertain stages of falling in love:

"Thou art to me a delicious torment." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

And what happens after the "delicious torment" phase? It's a matter of roots:

"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two." ~ Louis de Bernières in Captain Corelli's Mandolin

This American Life

2012-02-15T22:33:00.002-07:00

I know I mention This American Life a lot; I joke around that I practically proselyte for the radio show. What can I say? I love the stories. And this series of stories is definitely one of my favorite episodes ever.

A Special Valentine

2012-02-14T22:07:00.004-07:00

Source.

Today was transplant day for Martin's sister (donor) and father (recipient). Can you think of a more beautiful expression of love on this Love Day? More on this to come after I've had a little more time to process. In the meantime, I'm happy to report that both patients seem to be doing pretty well. So far so good....

Birthday Wishes for a Boy I Love

2012-02-13T21:00:00.005-07:00

*This isn't a great photo but I love Soren's face here; I can still see his echoes of his little-boy self.

1. I wish for you a secret game genie that you can call out of your bottle anytime you want to play something and other partners are scarce.

2. Daffodil wishes for you to live to 100.

3. Martin wishes for you that as you develop new interests, new friends will surface who share your interests; every 2nd time around that friend will be Mama and every 3rd time it will be Dad.

4. Another wish from Martin: a magic spoon. Every time you wash your spoon and use it for dinner, Daffodil won't chew with her mouth open, Eden won't interrupt you when you want to say something, and Anna won't poke you and climb around you on your chair.

5. I wish for you an interview with one of your favorite authors, except it won't feel like an interview, it will be more like an easy conversation with an old friend.

6. Heidi wishes for you a vacation to New York where you will kayak with Sam and canoe with your other cousins. You can even poke at the hissing barnacles covering the canal walls.

7. I wish for you a jump-start on developing some new interest or talent. That is, you can start something new and see some immediate, encouraging results.

8. I wish for you a tree-house maybe like this one or this one or this one, or a completely different design you come up with yourself. Please invite me for a sleepover.

9. I wish for you ease in conversation with anyone you wish: that you will not feel awkward in asking questions, or calling someone up on the phone, or initiating talk with someone you are interested in, or in reaching out to someone who might need you.

10. I wish for you a day of studying and performing with the Magic Castle Junior Group. Your honorary Sharp cousins might accompany you.

11. I wish for you a trip to Hawaii to play with the Petkos, Leungs, Jims, Higas, Adams, and Durkins. You might practice some surfing and make an excursion to the Big Island for skiing. The only caveat is you have to take me with you.

12. I wish for you that you will always have people around you who love and support you, that you will appreciate the gifts you have and use them in ways that will bring joy to you and those around you.

Our Lady of Love

2012-02-12T18:31:00.004-07:00

A few years ago Martin gave me this antique pen and ink stand along with the little black book for recording love notes. I don't know much about the provenance of Our Lady of Love except that she belonged to Martin's grandmother at one time and now lives with us as our resident cupid.

I'm sharing her here partly because she's pretty fantastic, and partly because I think it's a great gift/practice for someone you love. If inscribing something in a book seems dauntingly permanent, there are other less formal (and/or Victorian) ways to give written expression to your thoughts and feelings. When Eden was pretty little I started a simple blank book for us to write letters/notes in back and forth to each other. I would write something for her and then leave it in her room for her to find and reply. When we were dating Martin gave me a stack of postcards that he wrote notes to me on. These days a private blog could be a digital alternative too. I'm not trying to talk anyone into anything really, just posing a possibility in case it appeals.

Anyway, even though our cupid doesn't get as much use as I'd like, I still love the idea and practice she represents. If you have other suggestions and ideas for cultivating correspondence, I'd love to hear them too.

Sibling & Cousin Love: an afternoon on the parkway

2012-02-11T21:47:00.002-07:00

Valentines with Fortunes

2012-02-10T22:25:00.006-07:00

Well, I abandoned the crayon hearts. I had a minor fire in the oven today when I went to bake birthday pie. In the end I bought a whole case of fortune cookies from the closest Chinese restaurant and the kids put tags on those. Even if you don't like the cookies, who doesn't like getting a fortune? I still have a couple hundred more so maybe I'll start handing them out randomly....

And speaking of valentines, I have to share the best valentine I've seen so far this year (incidentally, it includes a fortune of sorts too). My friend's, 6-year-old(?) daughter crafted this for her fellow classmate:

I bet Elora is relieved.

Valentines

2012-02-09T16:55:00.005-07:00

I wanted to try this fun valentine idea from Today's Mama of making crayon hearts. It seemed like a fun and simple enough project to do with the kids and I always like finding candy alternatives. I got some small heart molds at Ikea and decided to try it even though my molds were not silicone.

When they say silicone, friends, they mean it.

I ruined one mold and a silver platter getting the crayon mess out of the oven (it was the first thing handy!) and got melted crayon all over the bottom of the oven.

I haven't decided whether I am permanently deterred from this project or not. I haven't been able to find silicone molds that are the size I want (i.e., small enough), though I could still use the remaining mold if I melted crayons in a pot and then poured into the mold. But where do you find boxes of crayons that are all 1 color?

Alternatively, I've thought of using the mold to make little heart-shaped glycerin soaps. I haven't decided whether I'm up for it, or if I will scratch any further attempts at some fun valentine concoction this year.

My two favorite things I've ever done for family & friends for valentines are making homemade fortune cookies (with bits of poetry for fortunes) a la Martha Stewart, and homemade love potions. One year I scored a whole box of little amber bottles from some science lab at BYU. I boiled the bottles so I wouldn't inadvertently contaminate the love, and then filled them with homemade lavender powder for the body or linens (sort of like this).

If you have other fun valentine ideas please share and, for the record, I'm still a sucker for frilly/doily/paper constructions of love.

Brahms "Romance"

2012-02-08T21:30:00.004-07:00

Yesterday was a down day for me. Sickness is making the Great Succession through the ranks and things are a little subdued. Later in the afternoon I turned to a coping strategy I learned from my parents: making music. I pulled out some old favorites and sat at the piano a while. There is one Brahms piece in particular that almost feels like my signature piece and it was disturbing to realize I can't play it with the same facility that I used to (I'll be working on that). I also stumbled my way through another Brahms piece that I love and, given its title, I'm posting it here.

Brahms op. 118 no. 5, "Romance":

Stay well.

My Love Affair with Color Continues

2012-02-07T09:31:00.005-07:00

Rice Bowls #2 (very similar to the first one, but not identical and hand-quilted this time).

For my next trick, I will be trying to piece a larger version of this in just one week (but no hand-stitching required!).

Torch Song

2012-02-06T21:56:00.004-07:00

We can't talk about love for a whole month without mentioning the spurned variety. I've been there. Maybe you have too.

For a more humorous and entertaining exploration of the torch song, go here.

Carry on, soldier.

Ordinary Affections

2012-02-05T18:29:00.003-07:00

Last night I was sicker than I remember being in a long while. I stayed in bed late today and Daffodil took it upon herself to wait on my every need and whim.

"Do you want the blinds shut, mama?"

"Do you want a drink of water, mama? I brought you one with lots of ice."

"I'll take care of you for the rest of the day, just let me know what you need."

"Let me give you a hug, mama."

I did emerge later in the afternoon to read to Anna on the couch and play a couple of games with the kids. After some leftover soup, Martin left with the children to go chase the sunset up the mountain and I stayed behind with my uneasy belly. Perhaps, later we will watch this together.

I anticipate some more reading and maybe sharing some newly discovered poems with Martin. I hope to feel better tomorrow; in the meantime, I'm glad to share the ordinary and every-day in this household.

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives.

~C.S. Lewis

Brontë Love

2012-02-04T17:53:00.006-07:00

I just finished rereading Wuthering Heights yesterday. I remember really liking the book in high school; I was sort of intellectually captivated by the Heights vs. the Grange representing the Romantic vs. Classical world view. (Is that right? Where is Mrs. Brown when I need her?) I was not so enamored this time around. I found Heathcliff's vindictiveness and out-right abuse a little hard to stomach.

(Aside: this is not the first time I've gone back to a book I loved in high school and had a very different reaction. I also loved Crime & Punishment--again, largely because I found it very intellectually stimulating. I tried reading it again soon after Eden was born and found I had little patience for the frenzied, feverish mental anguish of Raskolnikov. But it might be time for another go.)

Apparently Wuthering Heights was written before Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, but published after it in the same year after her sister's success. Initially, critics favored Jane Eyre, but in the 20th century Wuthering Heights overtook Jane in critical acclaim. I am firmly in the Jane Eyre camp.

I watched Jane Eyre for the first time a few years ago when I was laid up in bed one weekend with a cold. I loved the movie so much that I immediately read the 600+ page novel. For me the characters in Jane Eyre are more sympathetic and the love story is more gripping and satisfying. That 2006 Masterpiece Theatre mini-series still gets me every time.

As I was thinking about these two love stories, I started thinking about other favorite love stories. So far, this is what I've come up with:

The Far Pavilions by M.M. Kaye A truly gripping novel for at least the first 500 pages. Do tell me if you manage(d) to put this one down.
Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen Still my favorite of the Austen novels. FYMD stands for "Find Your Mr. Darcy."
Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner. This is not a love story in the classic sense but still one of my all-time favorite books about relationships.
The courtship of Laura Ingalls & Almanzo Wilder in the Little House books.
These is my Words by Nancy Turner
The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough. This isn't really one of my favorites but I do remember it as quite gripping.

And for the record, I prefer Beatrice & Benedick to Romeo & Juliet.

What about you? I think my list is pretty short; do you have some recommendations for me?

Love Bits from Found Magazine

2012-02-03T15:06:00.003-07:00

I found out about Found from This American Life (for some reason, this story has always stayed with me). I love the concept for this magazine!

Here are a few Found love bits:

Nice Bike

Dear Virgil

Library Love Letter

Dream Girl

Best Skating Friend

Love Stories from StoryCorps

2012-02-02T09:36:00.005-07:00

StoryCorps releases a new book today, and I'm eagerly anticipating my own copy to be delivered next week!

If you've never heard of StoryCorps, here's a brief intro from their website:

"StoryCorps is an independent nonprofit whose mission is to provide Americans of all backgrounds and beliefs with the opportunity to record, share, and preserve the stories of our lives. Since 2003, StoryCorps has collected and archived more than 30,000 interviews from more than 60,000 participants. Each conversation is recorded on a free CD to share, and is preserved at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress. StoryCorps is one of the largest oral history projects of its kind."

I've read their first book and listened to the CD of Listening is an Act of Love multiple times and shared it around. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't get into that airstream trailer the week it parked by the Tabernacle in Logan. (Maybe it's a good thing I didn't, I might have just decided to make it my new home and gone on the road.:)) Our local NPR station will play excerpts of StoryCorps interviews on Friday mornings, and if I'm lucky I get to hear it on my way home from carpool duty.

I love this project. I love their motto, "every voice counts". I firmly believe that listening IS an act of love. My wonderful sister-in-law gave me a great gift a year ago: she recorded an 2+ hour interview I did with my own Grandpa after being inspired by this awesome program. We laughed and cried and I heard stories I'd never heard before (and my Grandpa loves to tell stories). Having that experience, and listening to/reading the other stories, makes me want to interview every one I love. Heck, I think I'd even love interviewing strangers. Chances are, dear reader, I'd beg to interview you.

Ready for some stories? Have a listen:

And, finally, this one. I can never get through this one without choking up:

Read today's love poem here.

Love Month

2012-02-01T13:59:00.003-07:00

(Source.)

February is a month people love to hate. It is getting towards the end of weary winter and it's easy to resent persistent dreariness. I've always liked February (January is my personal nemesis), mostly I think because it is my birth month--tell me you don't have a special place in your heart for your birth month. :)

The other reason I am always happy when February rolls around is because it is Love Month. I have an inordinate fondess for Valentine's Day which does not come from a history of my own valentines, but because I love celebrating love and affection in all its forms.

Just as I am not restricting the love to romantic love, I'm not restricting the celebration to one day either. I am setting an intention for February this year: I am going to celebrate love in some form or another on this blog every day this month. Yep, that's a commitment.

I'll also be posting a poem on the theme every day on my poetry blog. This is a private blog for copyright reasons, but if you want to join this celebration too, email me or leave a comment with your email address and I'll send you an invitation.

Happy Love Month everyone; let the good feelings flow!

Good Genius

2012-01-29T13:58:00.004-07:00

My writing efforts have mostly been focused on poetry in the last few months, working on a personal project. Today, I think I'll post one of those poems here, a short one that hearkens back to my college days: a good friend, some nick names, and the evil genius.

I'm inclined to let the poem speak for itself, so I am going against my grain to give a little back story, but here's a brief introduction.

First, the friend. I've mentioned Rachel before and you can count on me doing so again; she's a joy in my life. At one point in college, I thought of her as "the enthusiasm of Spring" and myself as "the understanding of Fall"--a gloss on favorite seasons and, to some degree, our personalities.

Second, the nicknames. Rachel has been Chi almost 20 years. I forget whether it comes from her first nephew's attempts at articulating "rachel" as "chichi", or if her Dad just dubbed her Chichi all on his own. Around the same time "Chi" came about, I adopted "Claire" as my unofficial middle name. I made it official when I changed my name with marriage. Chi's dad refers to me exclusively as Claire to this day.

One more word re. the evil genius. Those of you who have read any Descartes will likely remember the evil genius from the Meditations on First Philosophy: a conjectured being whose intent is to deceive the senses and persuade us of some inaccurate reality. I/we sort of got in the habit of referring to the evil genius out of context. He (I suppose it is a he?) was also a good explanation for deceptive signals in the perilous realm of crushes. :) In titling this poem, I discovered that "good genius" is also a moniker for friendship. So the title is a nod to the evil genius, and also an assertion of its antithesis.

Without further ado, here's the haiku-esque verse:

Good Genius

She is Spring
enthusiasm
seed to budding
flower
life force:
Chi

I am Fall
understanding
the last leaf
will cede to
frost:
Claire(ity)

Moondog Misadventure

2012-01-04T19:17:00.007-07:00

I decided that this would be the year we learn to ski for real. We've made a few attempts (see here and here), but have not really spent much time on the slopes. I want to do more stuff outside in the winter. I love the idea of getting up above the inversions and I was pretty sure the kids would enjoy skiing too.

My sister Suse was my sleuth this Fall and helped me acquire all the gear for Christmas. We did not manage to surprise Eden & Soren, but everyone was pretty excited Christmas morning nevertheless (all the children tried on their skis indoors every day until we finally made it up the mountain).

Our first attempt, however, was sort of a disaster.

Due to many different gatherings of family and friends, our first trip to the resort was several days after Christmas. Martin had to go in to work in the morning to take care of a couple of things, including taking a couple of friends out for a farewell lunch. I told him to be home by 1:00 for the family outing. Susan was here helping me adjust the bindings on Martin's skis when I called him at 1. He told me that they were just finishing up at lunch and he'd be home soon.

I had spent the morning getting the car cleaned (a true necessity if we were going to get all of our gear in there), getting dinner going ahead of time so that we could come home to something, rounding up all the gloves/hats/etc. into a pack and then getting the kids dressed. We finished these preparations and then waited for Martin.

At 2:30 I still hadn't seen or heard from him and managed to discern through texting that he was in a meeting. A meeting?!! (Insert mental curses.) The kids were literally waiting in the car at this point and we didn't leave the house until after 3.

By the time we got up to the ski resort and rented some helmets it was after 4. Martin immediately discovered that his liners were too unbearably small and was out of the picture within 5 min. Meanwhile, I struggled into my tele ski bindings, and tried to help Daffodil and Anna into their skis without them taking off down the slope on me. We got about 20 yards (with Daffodil falling about every 2 yards) before we could see that the tow rope on the bunny hill wasn't running. Argh! Anna wanted out of her skis at this point and was throwing herself on the ground saying she felt like she was going to throw up. I got her over to the tow rope that goes between lifts so that she and I could head back. I couldn't hold on to her and hold on to the tow rope without dragging her, however, so we soon abandoned that strategy. Eventually I got out of my skis, helped Anna out and had her carry her (tiny!) skis as we hiked back up to the lodge. Her skis are about 24" long but she swore they were going to be the death of her en route ("I think I'm going to diiiiee!").

Martin, meanwhile, had gone back to the car to change into his hiking boots but was locked out of the car since I had the keys. He came back walking in just the liners of his boots and stayed with Anna while I went to get the car. By this time it was getting dark and time to go home anyway. Eden, Soren and Daffodil just wanted to ski down the very minor slope between ski lifts and then hitch a ride on the rope back up and do it again. They got to do that for about 20-30 min. and that was the extent of our expedition.

Oh, except that on the way home, I had a weird headache attack unlike any I've ever had before. It felt like I was having a charlie horse in and behind my right eye socket and it didn't let up. I came home, took some tylenol, and was basically out of the picture for the rest of the evening.

Fun times.

I'm happy to report that we made another, much more successful, attempt the next day. (I admit I had to manage a mental hurdle of dread first.) We left on time (i.e., with enough time to actually get on the slopes for a while). Experts Sue & June came along to aid and instruct. The adult-to-children and experienced-to-inexperienced ratios were more in our favor. We had some poles to navigate flatter ground. And the tow ropes were running. Hallelujah!

By the time we left the second day everyone could navigate the bunny hill on their own except Anna (who had graduated from between-the-legs skiing to the harness) and everyone was begging to come back the next day.

Coming back to the car, we were rewarded with this gorgeous sunset:

I think this is going to work out.

Before & After: Front Door

2011-12-22T10:23:00.003-07:00

We've had a project in the wings for months that is finally finished. We picked up a cool door at a rummage sale maybe 18 months ago that has been sitting in our carport pretty much ever since. I am always too impatient to begin a project to take "before" photos, but here is a snap shot from Christmas 3 years ago that kind of shows the previous state of the entry:

Here's the door right after we bought it:

And here it is after some small repairs and fresh paint:

My brother-in-law powder-coated this screen door I picked up at D.I. that shows off the door a little better than the half-light one we had before too:

(I like the new house numbers too.)

I love checking yet one more project off the list!

Birthday Wishes for Martin

2011-12-19T22:45:00.005-07:00

I petitioned many of you during the last month to send me birthday wishes for Martin. I am so grateful for your generous responses; compiling the love was honestly one of the funnest and most meaningful projects I've ever worked on. Many of the emails I received were private notes of appreciation and I won't post those here, but I will share some of the wishes (anonymized) that we toasted to.

Feast your imagination:

I wish for you a meal with friends where you combine what you both have on hand, (with no previous planning,) into a scrumptious meal while chatting away about interesting, thoughtful, topics and when the meal is over the conversation continues to be so dazzling that no one realizes that they have pitched in to clean up. All the while, the children are having a parallel experience to the adults; constructive, creative interaction that leaves one with such a feeling of abundance and well being, that the next sun rises on you with such precision that some long undone task suddenly becomes no chore at all.

We wish for Martin a tropical moon over a restless silver ocean. Fireworks in Waikiki on Fridays. Warm sand between his toes on a sunny day. A rainbow over cloud-topped Hawaiian mountains. A stack of books, a beach chair, some shade, and a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day in January.

Martin, my birthday wish for you would be your own personal copy of the complete Oxford English Dictionary with sufficient time to study each of the 600,000 words and then use them in a lifetime (granted, you have already got a pretty good head-start as you have used more of those words than I will ever hope to know).

My wish for you is that we could gather a community of artists, scientists and thinkers, comprised of all your favorite people, where we could all live and work. All the houses would be off the grid, powered by renewable energy, and each with their own garden. The houses would be works of art, full of stained glass, fine wood work and sculpted elements. All of us would live with zero waste, beautifully balanced with the planet.

I’m changing the rules. I know that everyone is wishing things for you – after all it is your birthday. And I know that many of those wishes are imaginary. I’m going to wish for something real, and it’s for me. My wish is that I could find a job in Utah and move into the house next to yours. I wish I could be your neighbor.

My birthday wish for you is a small door on the wall of your room through which you can pass and find yourself in lovely Germany whenever you please. You could buy fresh bread to go with dinner, or have a fine Deutsches conversation with someone you meet on the street. You could walk along the river or visit a castle full of history. You could have tea and Kuchen just when you need it most or visit a museum. That would be a little piece of heaven, would it not?

On your 40th birthday, I wish for you to appreciate that 40 is not as old as it used to be. I wish for you to see life, and the world around you as they really are, savoring the beauty and joy that resides in almost everything around you. I wish for you to see only the beauty and wonderfulness of those you love. I wish for you to love yourself, and to have the willpower to change the things about yourself that you don't love. And, I wish you many more birthdays to bless the lives of those who know you.

I wish you to have successfully completed your thesaurus in Tolkien's elvish. And therefore find yourself interviewed on NPR as a guest on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me's Not My Job segment. Where you'll wear a great sweater onto the show even though no one in the listening audience can see it - you'll know. And then the Millennium Project folks will hear your references in the NPR interview to your other work outside of thesaurus-ing - and will find you and use your spatial computer skills to help you help them end extreme poverty. As part of this, you will meet Bono who will apologize for that album after Achtung Baby! Your family will look on lovingly while you receive your honorary doctorate of humane letters for your work to end extreme poverty, after which you'll find a tunnel to sing in together, and then finish off the evening with Turkish delight. While tasting the sweet confection, you'll have a sudden flash of insight about the relationship between quantum physics and the culinary arts (someday to be called the Buchert Principle) that will lead to your next bestseller: a brief history of thyme. The advance on the book will let you do stained glass, hike, buy great camping gear, and spend time with your family in the backcountry as long and as often as you like. We'd meet you out in the country to celebrate your next birthday, and fall asleep after sitting round the campfire looking at the stars and singing hymns and folk songs together. The kids would sing their hearts out - full of faith and family - and we would be happy.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday. I wish for you the a partly cloudy afternoon to wander through the windy Patagonian Landscape, with the Torres de Paine in view, with a camera in hand and someone special by your side.

I wish for you is some uninterrupted time (30 minutes at least!) to dance your heart out to some sweet awesome tunes of your choice!

I wish for Martin's 40th birthday the time and funds to work with his family to build or renovate an energy net zero home in a place where magically all his loved ones are his neighbors. The home would have space for all the family members, guests when they come, creative projects, and a lovely big garden for Becca to tend and harvest to make him a delicious birthday feast.

Best birthday wishes to the only guy that we know who can tell the difference between a rat and a mongoose based on the size of their teeth. And I quote, "Rat, my butt!. look at the size of those canines!"

My wish for you is more a wish for me: that your radio show “The Part & the Whole” takes to the air sans sponsorship/funding concerns or obligations to fetter you. Then I get to listen to you draw out the most inspiring aspects of life from leading feather worm experts and the like during my afternoon slump. ; )

We wish for you a chance to travel back a few years, where you happen to be living in Austria and sing with the Vienna Boys Choir.

I wish that Martin could be an architect, landscape ecologist, botanist, urban planner, mountaineer, and National Geographic correspondent all at once (and that he would take me along on all his adventures).

My wish for you is that you'll live each day this year knowing that you make the world a better place. Your twinkly eyes, your happy smile, and your willingness to love and share and connect and forgive. You are fabulous. Our world is better with you in it.

I wish that each day this year is a new, fresh day where the mistakes, banality, and vexing problems of yesterday fall away as dross and the way forward is clear, doable, and inviting.

I wish for you at least 10 do-overs.

I wish for you the faint smell of fresh citrus to surround and revitalize you any time you want.

I wish for you true, meaningful, insight-providing conversations with each of your children in which you glimpse into their souls and futures and, then in return, in which you are able to respond with love, assurance, and wisdom that will cling to them and guide their paths through eternity.

I wish for you three extra morning hours each day--with only the only stipulation that you cannot do anything with the time that is not deeply satisfying.

I wish for you the ability to redeem any one spot on earth forever from environmental pollution, invasive species, climate change, overuse, misuse, and greed.

I wish for you the ability to perceive and do the one thing, every day, that Becca, your children, and employer most need from you.

We wish you an all-expenses paid trip to the Gulag Archipelago!

For your birthday I wish you a trip around the world. Completely free of cost with the opportunity to sample good food everywhere, go on VIP tours to any museum, building, historical site (and by VIP I mean that you would have the place to yourself). Your mode of transportation around the world is completely up to you. If you feel like flying by private plane, so be it. If you want to Eurail and rough it in a tent, so be it. One of the perks of this trip around the world is that you can trust the people you meet. You would meet amazingly interesting people. They would invite you into their homes and give you a real sampling of their lives. They would teach you their crafts. Your life would be enriched by your experiences. Another bonus is that you could take a person or people of your choice on this trip with you, also free of charge. You would also have the gift of tongues and be able to communicate easily with people in any language.

I wish for you to meet Thorin from the Hobbit. How cool would that be? And I wish you could read the whole Eragon series with me!

I wish for you nights with at least 8 hours of sleep. This means no more all-nighters at work.

I wish for you lazy days out on a lake in your sailboat with Becca. You sailboat will be easy to set up and take down and any punctures will be magically repaired on the spot.

I wish for you lively conversation around the dinner table with your children about reproduction that do not include any reservation on their parts about discussing such things with you ;).

I wish for you perfect combinations of clouds and light wherein you have your camera settings adjusted just right so you can capture the fleeting moments before they are gone.

I wish for you to have people in your life that you admire and can look up to in the same way that I admire you. I don't know anyone who is as able to put people at ease in conversation as you are. I am so touched by the way that you value and respect what people from all walks of life have to offer to you, and I admire your ability to convey that to them just by the way you interact. You are brilliant, but you don't make me feel inferior. You are wise and full of experience, but you don't make me feel naive. You treat people the way that Christ would treat people. I feel that whether I am personally interacting with you or I am watching you interact with others. Thank you for the many things you have taught me over the past few years

I wish for you a night where you can see ALL the constellations.

I wish for you a big ol' five-gallon bucket of TIME--time to play with your kids, to cherish your wife, to commune with the Spirit, to rest, to savor your food, to listen to music (and play some), to get to know new people, to read and ponder and read some more, to impress your bosses, to act on every good prompting. And after that, time for a long vacation in Yellowstone Park and Paradise Valley and the Beartooth Mountains with old friends, including fireside sing alongs, lots of s'mores & delicious dutch oven food, and of course a BIG FAMILY DANCE under the big sky.

I wish for you fulfillment in your work, that one of your dreams will be fulfilled this coming year, and that you recognize the positive, integral part you have played in so many lives over the past 40 years.

I wish for you a droid with artificial intelligence that can endlessly discuss New York Times science articles.

I wish for you a cold, crisp early morning with the promise of bright sunshine, taking a hike in the wilderness with his sweetie for a picnic breakfast of hot sweet tea and some crunchy on the outside soft on the inside cheese rolls. Mmmm!

I wish for you an afternoon of family building--work on a tree-house in your own stretch of lakeside woods. It is fall and the woods are crisp and flaming oranges and yellows, and there are no bugs to speak of. The whole group works together, hammering and sawing with the kids, passing lumber, occasionally making up a working song or tending to a splinter. By evening, there are stairs and ladders, platforms and covered area, rope swings and a zip line. You rally the children and willing aunts and uncles and friends to play a game of pirates. When it's too chilly and dark to play anymore, everyone comes in to a giant table of delicious, simple food. There is much discussion as we eat, which continues as we clean up, and continues to continue as you pull out of your bag, your pocket projector. You set it on it's little wall clip and voice activate it to project a slideshow from the cloud of photos collected from all your best beloveds, and with a fire roaring at one end of the room, and children falling asleep without much fuss or effort in sleeping-bagged rows on the floor, we talk and discuss and laugh and look at pictures late into the night while sipping sparkling juice.

I wish for you a holosuite: a white room with multiple projectors and high-speed cameras, all able to point in arbitrary directions, as well as white furniture. Useful for full-size video conferencing with friends who wish they lived closer. Eye-tracking provides the illusion of 3-d for any virtual objects or people in the room, or of scenery out of virtual windows. Also a suite of augmented reality games and data visualization software; physical tokens recognizable by
the cameras would give him tactile controls for manipulating the view. The array of high-speed cameras allows bullet-time photography for doing matrix-like movies with the kids, and having so many views of the same subject makes 3-d modeling of the scene much much easier.

I wish for Martin a Maverick flying car so he can travel easily in the rainforest.

I wish that one day I will tune into TED, or a special address to a joint session of Congress, or a "Most Viewed" article from the New York Times, and hear you speak about Martin's Big Idea, An Idea Whose Time Has Come.

I wish you many happy hours of reading wonderful books.

I wish you a future free of horse-maulings.

I wish you wisdom in parenting and marriage (not that you don’t already have it, mostly for when you have a house full of teenagers).

I wish for you to know how much your friends love you and admire you for being just who you are.

I wish for you perfectly organized, categorized photos. Oh, no, no, not just the ones you've already lovingly slaved over, but also the ones you are missing, the ones that were never snapped, the ones that others never shared. This unabridged collection includes all the beautiful moments of your life and the lives of your loved ones. At your fingertips are portraits of the peripheries, vignettes of the vast. Everything you could hope to remember or imagine or understand—it's all there in your wonderful set of scenes.
If you want them to be books, they are books for you. You can pile people onto your lap (if they're small enough) and show them your stories, as well as their own stories. If you want your images to be slides, there they are, projected clearly, and we're all sitting (comfortably for a change!) in Dad's dream of stadium seating. With the snap of your fingers you can command your shots to arrange themselves by date, by place, by theme, by hair color, by mood, or by any order you desire. You want them to become moving pictures now? Say the word. You want them to be full-size digital files? Look! Here is a computer smart and strong and quick enough to hold them all at once with room to spare, and to allow you smooth access that never bogs down.
Oh, the glorious pictures! They reach into the past and bring back ancestors and heroes, in sepia, in color, in truth. They reach into the future... but wait, not that. There still needs to be some mystery remaining. But you won't miss a moment; as tomorrow turns into today, it will become yours to keep and treasure. Only the secrets that people wish to guard will not appear in your collection, but in their places will be bright dancing lights that cause you wonder and joy, and speak comprehension and peace to your soul. Occasionally, often enough, you will find some heavenly slide slipped into the mix, and you'll see a finger, a smile, a shoulder belonging to some divine creature, a little evidence that you have been loved, and held, and helped. You'll see it.
And there will be photos of you, satisfied and shining with life. When did you pose for them? You don't remember the moments. Who took these? Unseen friends. The recording angels do more than take notes; some of them are great photographers, and they pride themselves on capturing moments with more than words. You see? You have all the help you could ever hope for in assembling your memories.

I wish for Martin a continuous supply of hot water, clean toothbrushes and effective toothpaste, sharp yet gentle razors, scent that adjusts to an aging body to make it always smell young, nails that grow smooth and white, strong cuticles, hair that stays on his head and stays off his back, skin that doesn't chafe in the cold, that the soles of his feet stay soft and supple, open sinuses, eyes immune to cataracts, ears free from obstructions and tinnitus and a tongue that doesn't go dry when he snores.

We wish for you a chocolate feast; everyone you know should come.:)

We wish for you a long, uninterrupted period of time to wander somewhat aimlessly through exotic and faraway lands of your choice. We picture you in a Moroccan souk (in full native garb, of course), or a canal town in China, or climbing each of the seven hills of Rome.

We wish for you a perfect day in Waimanalo, with no man-of-war, a light breeze, a picnic basket that continually regenerates so that everyone has enough to eat, no sunburn, lots of laughter, and perfectly rip mangoes for dessert, a pink sky at sunset.

I'll raise my glass to those again and again. My heart-felt thanks again to all of you who contributed. He laughed, he cried; he LOVED it.

So did I.

St. Nikolaus Tag

2011-12-13T09:27:00.005-07:00

We look forward to St. Nikolaus Tag every year. I'm always curious to see what the kids are going to list as things they're hoping for. (Sidebar: I took Daffodil & Anna's to see Santa at the mall and Daffodil couldn't think of anything she wanted. I love it when that happens.) We confiscated the lists, of course, and here they are:

2011-12-05 Children's Xmas Lists

And a few shots from the morning of the 6th:

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T22:44:00.004-07:00

This year's line-up: 2 berry, 2 pumpkin, apple, banana cream (with a chocolate lined crust), chocolate (the petite moondoggies always request this), key lime, peach & almond. After so many hours in the kitchen today, not one of these looks appetizing to me.

In other news, Martin has slept for 1 hour in the past 36+ hours but managed to smile for the camera today and got bit by a horse. He's going to have a bruise despite the 4 layers he was wearing.

And now, to bed. I've got a turkey trot in the morning. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday.

The Amiable Conversationalist

2011-11-13T21:56:00.006-07:00

This past week I made a purchase off of KSL. I played phone tag with the seller a few times and when he finally caught up to me, he (the seller) proposed that I come over that evening to see the goods. It was already getting late and would be later still before I could make it out the door and I was a little wary of going to some stranger dude's home late at night. I got this kind of weird vibe from him and it seemed kind of odd to me that he kept calling me (isn't that the buyer's job?).

Martin has been kind of out of the picture with a big work project lately so I called up my neighbor to see if I could drag her along (her husband was not super thrilled with this idea--why would I take HER if I am scared for my safety?). In the end, Martin got home and went with me (a better solution than me & Liz and pepper spray).

Let me tell you something about Martin. The guy can talk to anyone about anything. I know it's a cliché but in his case, it is absolutely true. I witnessed this again on our visit to make my KSL purchase. I think Liz & I would have been okay, but the guy was definitely a rough character. He & Martin talked skiing, biking, Scandinavia, baking, business, the northeast; we were there for at least an hour. There was a slight glitch with the product though so the guy was going to fix something and then get back to us. Last night, Martin met up with him at work for the hand-off. I had had several more calls from the seller during the day (which, to tell the truth, I avoided) and was still feeling a little wary when I checked voicemail. At least one of the calls was accidental because the message was just a recording of Martin and this guy talking. I wish I had saved it; I loved eavesdropping in on their unlikely conversation.

Martin said later that he really enjoyed the guy. I love that he is not put off by people, he's slow to judge, and he's really good at drawing people out and engaging them. In fact, the night I first really interacted with Martin I watched him get a room full of young adults to sit down and talk about their inhibitions(!). In the first year we were married he would field midnight phone calls from a middle-aged guy in Canada who wanted to talk air traffic control and military history-- Martin was his man. With some other people it might be 17-dimension string theory, or monastic architecture, or Gothic stained glass, or forest succession, or computer programing, or the Alvin submarine, or gun safes, or national and international politics (one of my favorites to listen to), or the successful breeding of feather worms. You get the idea.

A couple of years ago at one of our dances Martin was engaging the local vegan tattoo artist and the 60-something, scouting lifer/military man together in conversation. And the thing is, not only will he know something about the stuff you happen to be interested in, you can also tell that he is interested in you. I think that's what people respond to.

I know I do.

Why I love thrift shopping

2011-11-13T16:24:00.003-07:00

On a recent foray to a favorite thrift store I came home with the following for my clan:

2 pairs boys jeans (levi & yield)
1 pair boys champion pants for layering under snow pants
1 scarf
2 ski bibs
1 fleece vest
2 columbia fleece shirts
1 columbia fleece zip-up turtleneck
brand new sisley denim skirt
aeropostale striped sweater
a brand new J.Crew button-down shirt
dri-star thermal pants
1 pair thick olive cords
1 100% wool Greek lopi sweater
vera wang yoga pants
old navy two-tone blouse
patagonia kids capilene bottoms (can you tell I have winter sports on my brain?)
fox fire boucle hat
plus another hat Anna snuck into my pile

All for a grand total of $42.00!

Professional Practice

2011-11-08T21:36:00.003-07:00

Anna knows what she wants to be when she grows up, she'll tell you herself: a dentist. Ever since our last check-in with our dentist, Anna loves to don gloves and get into oral cavities. For a while she went through all the ziploc bags in the house using them as her gloves so I indulged her in a box of her own (oversized) gloves. Her tool of choice is the skewer (I don't even know where we got these things from), and she'll practice on anyone willing to be her patient. If she doesn't have a willing, animate body she practices on the stuffed animals.

Here are a few shots from today practing on Pingu, her penguin puppet:

October in a Nutshell

2011-11-06T22:15:00.003-07:00

Wow, I have not been blogging. My energies have been going elsewhere the last little while. Here's some of the stuff I've/we've been up to:

working on another iteration of this
helping Joh build a coop (just call me your local coop consultant)
the annual fall dance
playing with family at the cabin

a family thank-you effort

reading (just finished this book; listened to this one and this one with the kids)
staying up later than I care to admit watching far too many episodes of Friday Night Lights (rivaling my consumption kick of 2009); if I were a 20 years younger I might have a poster of one of the actors on my wall
a poetry project
and, of course, some time at the lake too

Today included church, a nap for me, cookie baking, teaching the missionaries how to play Dominion, a second attempt at Gary's squash soup, and all-surface ping-pong at Martin's office during a dinner run/cheer-up session for Martin who is working around the clock against a deadline.

I plan on checking in here a little more often. We'll see how it goes. I'm starting another book and another quilt and, you know, I'm only half-way through FNL....

A few festive photos

2011-11-01T09:59:00.006-07:00

The costume contest winner:

Spooky Spiderwoman:

The giraffe who looks like a cow:

Tigger:

Mr. Holmes:

A can-can dancer, or perhaps the witty Ms. Adler?:

(The Holmes and dancer costumes courtesy of the very talented La.)

Chicken Little:

Stunning Questions

2011-10-06T20:23:00.005-07:00

Tonight I lay down separately with Anna and Daffodil for a little bit as they were going to bed. Anna is in my bed, sick with a fever. After getting her settled down, I put Daffodil to bed. After a Relief Society meeting earlier this evening, I was all primed with nostalgia for those sweet girls already.

And then Daffodil comes out with this as I lay down next to her rubbing her back:

D: "Do you ever wonder who you are?"
Me: "Wow, that's a great question. Yes I do."
D: "Yeah, sometimes it's like wheels are going round and round and I have these ... stunning questions that no one can really answer."

Her words, I kid you not. "Stunning questions", indeed.

This is Water

2011-10-04T09:34:00.002-07:00

Some excerpts from This is Water:

"This is what the real ... value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: How to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone, day in and day out."

"If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is and who and what is really important--if you want to operate on your default setting--then you, like me, probably will not consider possibilities that aren't pointless and annoying. But if you've really learned to think, how to pat attention, then you will know you have other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell-type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that lit the stars--compassion, love, the subsurface unity of all things."

"This, I submit, is the freedom of real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted: You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't."

"... An outstanding reason for choosing some sort of god or spirtual-type thing to worship--be it J.C. or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.
If you worship money and things--if they are where you tap real meaning in life--then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It's the truth.
Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you.
...Worship power--you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay.
Worship your intellect, being seen as smart--you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on.
Look, the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. They are default settings."

"The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day."

"[This] is about the real value of a real educaiton, which has nothing to do with grades or degrees and everything to do with simple awareness--awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over: "This is water"."

Triathamom

2011-09-25T16:47:00.008-07:00

Yesterday involved a personal success and a reminder to celebrate such successes (see Uchtdorf).

Remember this? Well, yesterday was race day.

Finishing the race was a success in itself, but really there are a whole host of small personal successes bound up in this event. Here are some of them:

sustained efforts in training
consistent workouts
early morning risings
first efforts at weekly, long (2 hour) workouts
diversified workouts
I can now sustain the front crawl for quite a long time.
I was introduced to the swim cap (maybe it's time for one of these).
I rediscovered my bike.
I rode the farthest I've ever gone on a bike ride.
I had a bike date for the first time in a long while.
I tried a road bike and clip-in shoes for the first time.
Though still in the tortoise category, my overall running speed improved.
I made it to the point where running is enjoyable again (at least some days!).
reconnecting with relatives
strengthened relationships
sisterly bonding

Other memorable experiences surrounding the traithamom:
A double biking date with the Sprouls involving a flat tire on mile 4, fields of sunflowers at the golden hour for light, and good company.

Picking up road bikes the day before the race and doing a mini trial run (uh, that is bike) late at night with Liz.

Falling for an audience trying to dismount in transition from the bike to the run. Ahhh, such grace!

Rediscovering The Killers (especially this song and this song).

Getting branded for the first time (arms: race entry #, calf: age, for age group divisions). I feel sort of proud of these numbers and might be a little sad when they finish washing off.

And, of course, the race experience itself.

I'm so glad to have these awesome women in my life and thrilled that they were game to TRI with me! I'm also grateful for a wonderful, super-supportive husband. I don't think I would have done it without either bolstering influence.

Anyone ready to cast around for a new challenge?

(Photo courtesy of the Sprouls, photographers extraordinaire.)

(Ditto.)

Solace in the Soaring Violin

2011-09-22T19:27:00.004-07:00

I rediscovered Joshua Bell the other day. I watched Ladies in Lavender while working on the current quilt and he is the musician that actually plays those amazing melodies on the violin for the soundtrack. Dad had given us a couple of his CDs a few years ago and I like them, but they've been packed away with a lot of our other music. (Not all of our music library has been digitized yet and we don't use the CD player anymore.) I dug them out last night to do yoga. Italian opera arias on violin are not your typical yoga backdrop, I know, but oh my, is there anything more beautiful than this?

Here are some of my other favorite tracks from those CDs (this one and this one--I recommend both, but if you were only going to spring for one, I'd go for the Romance of the Violin).

Debussy: The Girl with the Flaxen Hair
Saint-Saëns: The Swan
Mozart: Andante
Schumann: Traumerei (Dreaming)
Monteverdi: Pur Ti Miro
Mozart: Vesperae Solenness De Confessore, K 339

(Sorry, I couldn't find links for all of these.)

Here are some of my other favorite classical recordings I dug up again:

Romantic Mass
Brandenburg Concertos
Cello Suites
Albinoni Adagio & Concerti (the cello & oboe are my secret musical loves)
Vivaldi Concertos with Angel Romero and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields
O Magnum Mysterium
Bach Flötensonaten

I feel like part of me has been found again. Hallelujah.

And since I'm in list mode, some of my favorite all-time choral works are the B Minor Mass, the Magnificat, St. John's Passion and St. Matthew's Passion. It's Bach heavy, I know. I was raised by a self-ascribed "Bachaholic" and I got to sing all of these with the (now defunct) Early Music Ensemble. Getting to know the music is to come to love it, I promise. Or at least, that was the case for me.

What about you? Do you have favorite classical recordings?

Do share.

p.s., I don't exclusively love classical music; I flirt with, and even steadily date, other genres. Classical is, however, my rootstock.

Culinary Cooperation

2011-09-22T19:13:00.006-07:00

Yesterday I finished canning 3 boxes of tomatoes. I mostly did this by myself, but towards the end Anna wanted to help and I let her. She dropped the romas in the hot water then lifted them out of the hot pot with a large, slotted spoon. She was so pleased to be helping she said to me, "I love you, Mama" and "You're a good helper!" Our roles reversed apparently. :) Next, she would stuff the skinned fruit into the jars for me and was so enthusiastic about mashing them down, I finally had to tell her to keep her hands out of the jar--just put them in and I would pack. She was proud to report to Martin at dinner time that she helped with the canning.

I write this down because it is unusual for me to let her help me (or any of the kids for that matter). Whenever I'm away, Martin is always really proud to report that everyone worked really well together to prepare and clean up meals. Sometimes it is hard for me not to take this as an implicit criticism because I know he really likes it when we all work together in the kitchen. I, however, prefer to work solo. Group efforts stress me out. They take twice as long or longer and seem to make a bigger mess (which is a feat, as I am quite a messy cook all by myself). I prefer to cook unaided and then let Martin spearhead a joint clean-up effort--which I often bow out of, figuring I've already done my time in the kitchen. (The rate at which I excuse myself is directly correlated with how involved the food prep was: if it was fairly simple, I'll stay in the game; if I've already been in the kitchen for 2 hours, I am anxious to get the heck out of there.)

One on one help seems to be a different story, I just haven't tried it much. I enjoyed working with Anna and didn't worry that it was going to take me longer to get through those tomatoes with her carefully putting them in the water and scooping them out again. Five or six cooks really is too many for our small space; I start getting locust crazy. But a little one on one?

I could go for that more often.

Conversation Fragments

2011-09-15T21:53:00.004-07:00

Our dinner table can be sort of chaotic. There's a tendency for everyone to talk at once, for certain parties to get upset over (lack of) table manners, for Anna to want to get up and go give Martin a hug or check on the chickens or change her clothes. And there's the conversation.

Sometimes the conversation is halting as we try to pry one-word answers out of Soren regarding how his day went, all the while being interrupted by Eden or Daffodil trying to answer the questions themselves. Often, Martin will ask a general question like, "Did anyone learn something new about the world today?" Daffodil might give some fact about turtles or volcanoes; I might comment about something I heard on NPR.

Here is a list of dinner table conversations so far this week:

Monday: Sex hormones. Specifically, that male testosterone levels decrease after having children, suggesting that men are designed to become fathers (source). This discussion involved a brief introduction to testosterone, estrogen and progesterone and hormonal changes in the body. The kids were embarrassed and reluctant to participate, saying it was sort of awkward to talk about. (Oh boy. Don't even get Martin started on this--that is, on talking with kids about sex or anything sex related. You'll get an earful, I promise.)

Tuesday: Martin asks what would be involved for our family to go completely off refined sugars? Very reluctant and recalcitrant participation on this one too.

Wednesday: The manipulation of killer T cells to fight cancer. Amazing. (See here.) This meant describing what T cells are, what they do, how they do it and how researchers were able to use the part of the HIV virus that alters the T cell genome to reprogram them to fight cancer cells. This one held the kids' attention and involvement pretty well. Who knew?

And tonight? Well we didn't have dinner around our own table tonight. Martin was busy teaching and the kids and I went to Murray's power party. I came home from helping my sister-in-law with coop #2 and lay down for a few minutes to nurse a headache. No cooking seemed like a great option to me. In the end, this meant we all ate yucky food (or those of us who ate anything, ate yucky food), the kids dispersed to play on the bouncy slide and miniature, miniature golf, Daffodil and Anna were freaked out by the power cable demonstrations and I ruined my new favorite purse because I carried a can of soda for Anna home and it leaked all through the nice soft leather. I feel so violated, especially since that is probably the only time in my life I have carried an aluminum can of sugar around. I can't even face the sticky contents yet, though I have ascertained that Martin's old iphone is ruined (and this on the heels of losing my ipod touch at the cabin). Bummer.

Later this evening I skyped yoga with my sister in Boston while Daffodil, who was supposed to be asleep, moaned from bed that her leg hurt, that she was cold, that she was sure she was going to throw up. Way to break up the yogic flow.

One last thing. Speaking of conversations, Anna said to me the night before last, "Do you love me even if I poop my pants?"

Yep, I do.

Collections of Wonder

2011-09-12T20:13:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading The Zookeeper's Wife for book club. I like everything I've ever read by Diane Ackerman and this book did not disappoint. I am not really going to give a review here, but I do want to remember this:

"An insect collection is a silent oasis in the noisy clamor of the world, isolating phenomena so that they can be seen undistractedly. In that sense, what is being collected are not the bugs themselves but the deep attention of the collector. That is also a rarity, a sort of gallery that ripples through the mind and whose real holdings are the perpetuation of wonder in a maelstrom of social and personal distractions. 'Collection' is a good word for what happens, because one becomes collected for a spell, gathering up one's curiosity the way rainwater collects. Every glass-faced box holds a sample of a unique collector's high regard, and that's partly why people relish studying them, even if they know all the bug parts by heart.
... One often recognizes only in hindsight a coincidence or unlikely object that altered fate. Who would have imagined that a zealous professor's cavalcade of pinned beetles would open the gate from the Ghetto for so many people?"

I had an awesome zoology teacher in high school who turned me on to Class Insecta and beetles, especially, are my favorite. I had a fairly extensive collection at one time too, and also appreciate the hours of meticulous work that goes into them. I love the idea of a collection, be it beetles or books or even barbies, as record of someone's attention and wonder.

Our attention is really all we have to give, I think. It is a function of time, but not the same thing. I can give my children time without really giving them attention. Is there anything greater than a repository of someone's attention and wonder?

I think not.

Burchwins Labor Day

2011-09-11T21:08:00.003-07:00

We went to the cabin again with some good friends over Labor Day Weekend.

Some of the highlights include treehouse renovations, charcoal art, marshmallow roasting, music, lots of games and catching up. I'm including just a few photos here.

("We love you aliens.")

(I call this one a poser photo since I don't really know how to play more than a few chords.)

I hope this tradition continues. :)

Ei(n)

2011-09-05T18:58:00.002-07:00

The fruit of our labors. Or, more accurately, her labor--whichever of our pretty pullets gave us this gift; we suspect Penny as she is our most senior adolescent.

my favorite song at the moment

2011-08-19T16:55:00.001-07:00

Bear Lake 2011

2011-08-15T21:00:00.001-07:00

We had our annual Bear Lake retreat a couple of weeks ago (for previous years see here, here, and here). In my mother's words: "It was a banner year."

Highlights included lots of laughs over this skit, playing guitar and singing together (snippet included as the soundtrack below), air hockey and love sac flips, sailing, teen attempts at waterskiing, the games, and the water--in all its forms (lake, hot tub, rain).

A few months ago Martin's boss gave him a 1960 Folbot with a sail kit. It has been sitting in our shed and this week was our first opportunity to try it out. Happily, the original instructions were included with the gear to help tease out the puzzle pieces. Martin spent the first happy afternoon putting it together (with some minor assistance from me now and then, and the collective brother-in-law-muscles to fasten the hull in place). Wednesday afternoon he ventured a maiden voyage with Soren. It was successful in that there were no leaks and no capsizing (Soren swears this was a near-miss); however, coming back in to shore, Soren didn't get a leeboard up in time and the pressure of the grounding board tore the upper decking on the kayak. That ended the sailing at Bear Lake. :( To say it was a downer is an understatement. Happily, we were able to repair the tear, and Martin and I successfully sailed for several hours this past weekend. I see more water adventures in our future; what is that line from Wind in the Willows? "Simply messing about in boats...."

The rain held off for us until the last night we were there, when we were treated to a terrific lightning storm. Martin was, of course, running from spot to spot with the camera and tripod to try and capture the show. I enjoyed this sport with him for an hour, hoping some good flashes would strike while the shutter was open. You'll see a couple of these shots too.

Most of these shots were taken by Martin. As you can imagine, he took hundreds of photos (though less than he would have, if he hadn't been otherwise occupied with the boat). My apologies to my family that the ones shown here are not necessarily a fair, representative sampling, rather some of the best shots we managed to capture. I love this tradition and am already looking forward to next year!

Mountains Beyond Mountains

2011-08-10T20:29:00.002-07:00

Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World by Tracy Kidder

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I loved this book. I loved reading about Farmer's unconventional upbringing (it reminded me in parts of the documentary Surfwise and Jeannette Walls' "The Glass Castle" without some of the other sad dysfunctions of that family). It is amazing to see Farmer's success without privilege behind him, and especially inspiring to read of his dedication to the poor (the "O for the P") and engagement in the "long defeat", striving for social equity.

The most compelling part of the story for me are his AMC ("areas of moral clarity"), especially in working with people: in refusing to turn a blind eye to need and poverty. It was a bit like confronting Flannery O'Connor's "displaced person". I don't think that Farmer is a saint or morally perfect but, in this one aspect (at least as it is portrayed in this book), his response when encountering need challenges my "ambivalence". Here is someone who doesn't make excuses or give up in the face of enormous complexity. The situations described here make me at once more aware of the privilege I am enveloped in, and humbled by his charitable example.

I also delight in Farmer's quirky use of language, especially "a hermeneutic of generosity" and "comma".

Love, BB

View all my reviews

happiness loves company

2011-08-08T08:37:00.002-07:00

I just registered for this. Wanna join me?

Need a pep talk? Talk to Jenny aka Phread.

You in? Yes?

Pool Party

2011-07-31T21:06:00.005-07:00

I have never been really big on birthday parties. Maybe it is a function of what I'm used to: we never had friend birthday parties growing up. Except once, when my older sister threw a surprise birthday party for me which lingers in my memory as more of a large-scale embarrassing moment than a party, but I'll save that story for another day.

I can probably count on my ten digits the number of birthday parties I've done for all of my children. Just taking a sheet cake for Soren to the Manoa playground kind of stressed me out once. Just baking and transporting a cake, that's it. No decorations, no favors, no activities, nothing. That being said, Daffodil has great expectations when it comes to her birthday. I tried to suggest maybe just celebrating with the family at Bear Lake, since that is where we will be on her actual day of birth. No dice. She had more elaborate plans but I essentially used the upcoming trip as an excuse to insist on a pool party. She could invite a few friends to go play some games in the pool and we'd have cake. So that's what we did.

(Martin is indispensable at virtually all parties.)

The birthday girl:

A note about the cake. Daffodil is really into cake decorating lately (have I mentioned that already?). If I let her, she'd watch cake decorating demonstrations on youtube all day. This cake came directly from one of those tutorials and she gave me tutorials of her own as we made it (instructions on the "crumb coat" and correct icing techniques). For her actual birthday she's going to get some tools of her own (don't tell); of course, then she'll want to use them which might really stress me out. :)

Hopefully, our children won't feel too deprived. And if they do, I'm sure they will have larger issues to lay before their therapists. :)

Donner Lake Reunion

2011-07-26T12:54:00.004-07:00

1200 miles
4 families
7 adults
12 children
8 Hawaiians
6 Utahns
5 Germans
1 cabin
2 lakes
3 beaches
2 scooters
5(?) bikes
2 watercraft
3(?) fishing poles
3 crawdads
1 castle
1 Truckee Thursday
multiple belly fights
tens of bridge jumps
hundreds of beads
thousands of boulders
millions of gallons of water
umpteen s'mores

And if that isn't overload already, enjoy "Chuck the Canuck" and "Herman the German" in action:

We missed the rest of our Manoa park mom families. I have a feeling our next get-together might be in the islands; count us in!

birthday shots

2011-07-25T11:34:00.003-07:00

Eden celebrated a birthday this month. Her request was to have a few friends over to do makeovers, courtesy of awesome Aunt Amy. Here are a few photos from the event:

post make-overs:

In keeping with the spa/makeover theme, I tried to make a mud-mask cake. It was my first attempt using fondant, and I think you might have to try hard to find a creepier looking birthday cake:

Eden shares a birthday with her Uncle Rob, who happened to stop by after the party so we got some pictures of the birthday buddies together:

We love Eden and growing with her just gets better and better.

Recapturing Beauty project

2011-07-14T21:19:00.006-07:00

I had the chance to participate in this project a few weeks ago. The friend who alerted me to the opportunity posed (pun acknowledged) an interesting question to me soon afterwards that has been bouncing around my brain ever since:

"Why is feeling beautiful something we spend any time on at all instead of just saying looks don't matter at all and instead we should be worrying about our spiritual/emotional/

intellectual development.... Why are we trying to be beautiful, to redefine beauty, to say that feeling beautiful is a goal worth pursuing and accomplishing? Why do we as women want to be beautiful, why is it important to us, and is it a divine attribute to feel beautiful about ourselves? "

Wow. See what I mean? A lot to chew on.

I don't know that my brain has settled down to any concrete answers, but those questions are so compelling I keep coming back to them. My inchoate responses are basically two-fold:

1. My gut reaction is that it IS important. Physical appearance plays an important biological role in attracting a mate. Of course, what is attractive is largely culturally defined so it gets messy and complicated really quick. Feeling attractive also affects confidence, which again, may be largely biological or cultural or both. I don't think it can be 100% cultural though and, even if it were, no one lives in a vacuum: the cultural landscape has to be navigated, cheese or no cheese.

2. The other main point I keep revolving around is being able to affirm of myself, like God did of his creations, that I am "good", even beautiful. (See Moses 2:31: "And I, God, saw everything that I had made, and, behold, all things which I had made were very good.") I've mentioned before that there are different kinds of beauty in the body: beauty in form, beauty in function. If I can't appreciate the form or shape, I can at least wonder at the incredible system that makes me live and breathe. "I must be one of the wonders of god's own creation." Hallelujah!

Back to the recapturing beauty project. This was an interesting exercise to participate in. When I first read the prompt I knew it was something I wanted to think about, but also knew it was going to take some thinking. How do you answer that question? I was having trouble coming up with anything. I shelved the prompt and went out of town for a few days to Winget Women 2011. I loved it as usual, and was really struck this time by the strength and resilience of the women at the retreat, and my grandma, and the other original Winget women. I have no doubt the Winget women before them are pretty awesome too. I came home on the original deadline of the BYUWSR project, and shot off a response I feel is true: I am beautiful because generations of strong women live in me. Thinking of myself in this way does make me feel beautiful.

Sidebar: In grad school when I was introduced to Nishida Kitaro, I was confused as to why some books refer to him as Nishida Kitaro and some as Kitaro Nishida. I got brave enough to ask my professor such a rudimentary question and he explained (and I'm going to roughly paraphrase here) that the Japanese identify you by context: your country, your province, your city, your family, you. It is opposite or an inversion of the Western, individualistic approach to identity. Hence, Japanese publishers or authors with a strong Japanese sensibility will refer to the philosopher with the sir name first: Nishida Kitaro; and Americans/Westerners will refer to him with his sir name last: Kitaro Nishida. The idea of a social/relational identity is fascinating to me. Context can seem both confining and/or empowering. Thinking of myself in my ancestral context is empowering.

Back to the project. You can see some of the results of my photo session here. Some of them do make me wince (I've got a powerful critic), but overall I am pleased. I do get "accused" of being photogenic a lot to which I have two responses: 1) Not really; I can produce a host of evidence to the contrary, I'm just too proud to lay it before your very eyes right now (I will think about it though). Trust me, I have a LOT of photos that induce despair anytime I think I actually resemble the documentation. 2) Brooke told another woman she photographed for this project, "If you don’t look good, it’s the photographer’s fault, not yours. So pressure’s off you, girl.” I'm actually pretty convinced of this. Brooke was so affirming and encouraging, I swear she could coax something great out of even the most camera-skittish. And don't underestimate the power of editing. :)

At the risk of being completely narcissistic, here are a few more outtakes from the shoot that I like:

I forgot to mention that I wore my grandmother's shirt for the shoot, for real. It was hers and when she died a year and a half ago, I claimed it from the D.I. box. It was like a talisman in front of the camera; I liked the symbolism.

Thanks Brooke for the experience and ladies, if you're in the area, don't forget that they are still accepting/encouraging responses; the deadline's out the window. Jump on the chance for those headshots!

A Fourth in Photos

2011-07-05T16:06:00.004-07:00

(Feathers!)

All photos by Martin.

The Poultry Palace

2011-07-01T12:59:00.004-07:00

We are finally finished with the poultry palace. Well, not really. One minor task remains: weather-proofing the exterior of the hen house. No biggie, I'll probably do it later this afternoon or tomorrow.

We used this plan for several reasons. I have essentially no construction experience and I wanted detailed instructions so I could make progress on the project myself. Also, our six birds require a little more space and I liked the idea of a coop/run combination. However, our execution of the coop stretched out quite a long time so the chickens feel awfully entitled to the full backyard now. That being said, they seem to like their new digs.

So, with no further ado, here it is:

A nice rustic/modern synergy; we used all salvaged wood which adds to the rustic patina (as does the less-than-perfect construction by yours truly), but the design is very modern.

Let me point out a few features. Here's the egg door on the front of the hen house:

You can access the hen house by another door, complete with an observation window, inside the coop:

The window box is actually the vestigial nesting box of our interim coop (I did clean and lightly sand it before installing). This fact delights me as much as its ornamental presence:

Meatspace tours are available if you find yourself in the area.

The chicks have practically grown up waiting for their backyard accommodations. This is what they look like now (to see their adorable baby pictures, see here):

Penny. She is larger than she looks here. In fact, she's huge!

Purse. We are pretty sure Purse is a rooster. Go figure. Our neighbor claims it was inevitable with such a name.

Inkheart, who has not lived up to her name; she's no longer a bully.

Hazelnut and Pigwidgeon-turned-Peregrin.

Erica.

I am ready to come up for air, reclaim the carport, and move on to other projects.

p.s., The chickens love the trampoline!

A Day in the Life of

2011-06-24T21:21:00.008-07:00

I got up early this morning and resisted the temptation to stay in bed and doze while Martin got up and got ready for work. I recently started the Love Dares which has me more consciously looking for ways to do things for Martin, so I got up and ironed his shirt for him instead of enjoying the bed a little longer. [Sidebar: I received an invitation to do this weeks ago and resisted it for various reasons, but recently decided to let some of my reservations go and be willing to try it. The jury is still out; I may or may not report back after the 40 days.]

After helping Martin get out the door, I tried to get Soren up for scout camp. This was a bit of an ordeal. I met with blatant refusals and sullen stubbornness. In the end I won out due to tickling/wrestling him and threatening to dress him myself like a little baby. That did it. We assembled his gear and he backpacked it the 200 yards to the church building. Anna accompanied us on the drop-off in her black-velour-with-silver-stars dance leotard and sunday-come-tap-dancing shoes and matching black hair bands. Eden also accompanied--in pajamas.

Then the morning work: clean the kitchen, make the beds, fold some clean laundry, put more laundry in the wash. Always laundry.

On to the coop. I spent a large chunk of my time working on the hen house today. We are almost. done. I suspect, however, the remaining dribs and drabs may well consume far more time than I care to admit; I prefer to think this project may soon be behind us. The ladies are already settling in.

Hot weather is finally here and the last few days I have been in swamp cooler crisis. I single-handedly fixed our sprinkler system this spring and redesigned/installed a(n ineffectual) drip system in the garden, but I had not yet tackled the swamp cooler. During my initial attempt, I was deterred by the murky swamp resident in the bottom of the unit. My second inspection left me stumped as to where the water line entered the box. Today, after soaking in sweat and sawdust in the yard all afternoon, I found our house hotter than the great outdoors so I delayed Martin en route to the camp out and enlisted his help. Voila! Sweet, evaporative relief. Praise be.

Dinner was a simple affair, followed by indulging in a girlie movie episode since Soren was gone, and then bed time routines.

I am off to bed myself with a full glass of Sonic pebble ice (my very own form of ice addiction). But enjoy these:

This is what happens when I leave town for a few days.

p.s., I forgot to mention that Anna peed in the sink today as reported by Scout. The bathroom sink. Deliberately, so far as I know. I was so bugged. She spent time in bed on time-out. I dutifully scrubbed and scoured then returned to the poultry palace project to contain avian scat. Someone please tell me we'll move beyond biological waste at some point....

Weekend 4:59s

2011-05-29T20:09:00.002-07:00

good greens at The Dodo
strained rib muscle using power tools
coop progress: a standing structure!*
narrowly escaped potentially-horrific car accident**
good samaritans in distress
goodbye to the dog car
pinochle and chocolate covered almonds
love notes from our flower:

sunday afternoon snooze
sort of disappointing berry goodness (at least my execution of it was unsatisfactory)
garlic starts on the piano:

*And here I will diverge from the 4:59 format. I truly did strain a muscle contorting myself and pushing on the power drill trying to punch holes through a 2x4 for the coop. We now have the walls framed and connected. Hopefully we will get them on the "foundation" tomorrow. These plans ask that we do not post photos of the construction-in-progress, but be assured that when we are finished I will post more about the coop and our chicken adventure. In the meantime, the birds are getting big and bigger, stinkier, and also, sometimes, endearing. This afternoon they were all huddled on the back step almost as if they were asking to come in out of the rain (probably the only time their inside bin would be welcome). Doesn't this sound fun? We are generally immersed in all things chicken right now.

**I may write more about this later, but suffice it to say our beater commuter died while I was on the freeway yesterday. The transmission seized, the front wheels locked, and I skidded to a stop barely out of the lane of traffic. I feel lucky to be okay, and so grateful for the generous help I was given on the side of the road. It's the end of an era.

Taking Care of the Important Stuff

2011-05-23T20:29:00.004-07:00

Anna had her first kiss today.

We had George over for a little while this morning and I was interested to see how the play would go. Anna usually spends most of her friend time with June, not so much with boys, though she does like to play with George when we're hanging around or working outside.

Anna initiated play the same way she does when her girl cousins are over: dress-up. George responded favorably and wanted a dress to jump on the trampoline loose and free.

A little while later the play turned to family and they got married. I was doing some coop-related price-checking at the computer and tried to stay incognito to listen to their exchange. It went something like this:

George: "Now we have to kiss."
Anna: "No."
George: "But you have to kiss when you get married."
Anna: "I don't want to."
George: "Yeah, we have to kiss."

He approaches her sitting on the windowsill and gives her a kiss.

George: "Oh sorry, I got boogars on you."
They both wipe various parts of their bodies.

Marriage accomplished.

Anna not only got married today but she also graduated. From Joy School.

Mortarboard and all:

I'm glad she's getting all of these important milestones squared away....

A few photos from the weekend

2011-05-19T09:30:00.003-07:00

On Sunday, my new niece was blessed. Here are a few photos from the occasion.

The lady of the hour who likes to smile with her tongue (I don't have any photos of her in her finery):

A candid one with my mom and aunt:

I love this one of Anna on Christa's porch:

The backdrop:

Later in the evening we celebrated a birthday and loved some new puppies:

A happy day all 'round.

Tobolowsky Files

2011-05-10T21:23:00.006-07:00

I've been meaning to post a list of favorites from the Tobolowsky Files, a podcast of stories told by actor Stephen Tobolowsky. Yesterday my sister, Liz, requested just such a list again after watching the movie, so here it is. I've listed them in chronological order since some of the episodes reference earlier ones. The stars are an extra stamp of enthusiasm, my very favorites. Did I mention they're all free on iTunes?

Episode 3: The Land of Enchantment (Wild Hogs)
Episode 4: The Alchemist* (stories about his mother)
Episode 10: Miss Hard to Get* (in which we are introduced to my mom and Beth)
Episode 11: Chaos Theory
Episode 12: The Sound of Surpise
Episode 13: Conference Hour* (the brutal world of academia)
Episode 15: The Politics of Romance
Episode 16: Dating Tips for Actors (Glee)
Episode 17: The Uncertainty Principle
Episode 18: Without a Handle
Episode 19: The Season of Misdirection*
Episode 21: Heart. Broken.*
Episode 22: The Dangerous Animals Club (the secret lives of children)
Episode 27: Three Honeymoons
Episode 28: The Afflictions of Love*
Episode 29: The Classic* (Groundhog's Day and another interesting one if you are into writing and/or film)
Episode 30: Plan B*
Episode 31: The City of Illusions*
Episode 32: Nighttime on Mars
Episode 37: Chasing the Laugh (interesting from a writing perspective about comedy)
Episode 42: The Moment Before Zero
Episode 43: The Stranger
Episode 45: The Things I Never Learned in School**
Episode 47: The Metamorphic Man*

**The last two episodes are an addendum as of 1/25/2012.

I should also give the disclaimer that he does mention sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll in some stories about earlier years in Hollywood. If you've seen the movie, these stories are similar; in fact, the podcast was inspired by the birthday party. The man is a good storyteller.

You're welcome.

2011-05-01T20:59:00.003-07:00

Our household expanded this week with some new little chicks. My sister-in-law asked me what happened to suddenly make the prospect of chickens palatable. I'm not sure exactly how or what changed, but this spring found me poring over poultry catalogs and getting excited about the experiment. The more I read about the different breeds, the more my mental flock grew so we ended up with 6. Let me introduce you.

A White Leghorn named "Purse"*:

The red one behind Purse is "Hazelnut", a Rhode Island Red:

Two Ameraucanas named "Pigwidgeon" and "Erica", respectively:

"Penny", a slightly older Buff Orpington:

And this black Barred Rock, "Inkheart":

*Incidentally, our motley crew has a motley assortment of names due to Eden's system that we each name one.

I really would have been tempted to expand a little further or switch out a couple of these for some polish chickens, but no local suppliers had them and I wasn't up to ordering 25.

Quite aside from our new birdie boarders, I've been thinking about families today. My thoughts have been with some good friends who have a c-section scheduled for Thursday, and another great couple who have an adoption deadline for the same festive day. With these dear ones in my mind and heart, I went to a baby blessing for yet another family I love today. We met Jodi & Rory our first Sunday in our new ward in Hawaii, almost 9 years ago. I watched Jodi on the stand today and remembered seeing her for the first time on the stand that day in 2002 (cute haircut!) and couldn't have known then the bond we'd develop and the enduring love I feel for them.

A month ago I was able to be with them in the Salt Lake Temple when they had their youngest adopted child sealed to them. It was a powerful spiritual experience for me. The officiator performing the ordinance told Rory & Jodi that Daisy knew she was coming to their family before she was born and it was moving to see Daisy so excited to be there, flapping her arms in happy anticipation. I couldn't help but feel that she knew what was happening and was overjoyed.

Today Jodi made some remarks about the overwhelming gifts their birth parents have given them in their children and that in heaven it won't be birth families and adoptive families but we'll all be one--one family. This struck me as so profound. Rory mentioned today that their experiences going through the adoption process (5 times!) has, maybe more than anything else, convinced him of God's presence in his life; they have experienced many miracles, and what some would call amazing coincidences, that witness to him the hand of God in their lives. I don't know how everything gets worked out or how to explain the gut-wrenching circumstances behind many adoptions, but I believe him.

Rory and Jodi's beautiful, multicultural family, and the cinco de mayo baby, and this relatively recent adoption, and the other pending adoption dear to our hearts, sort of all mixed around in my head today.

It is awesome the way God makes families.

I'm really grateful for mine.

An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out!*

2011-04-21T15:14:00.005-07:00

*Title references Riley's goblins.

Martin's cousin Kim, visiting from Maine, wanted to go to the desert for her 40th birthday. Rob & Geo were going to take her on a quick trip and, even though Martin was tied up with several work responsibilities he couldn't get away from, I decided to tag along with the kids.

I was excited to get out the camping gear and, being inspired by the awesome outside mom, decided to get more organized and better equipped. Specifically, I think this idea is genius, so I reconfigured some of our existing gear in the recesses of the basement closet and did a little shopping to get more basics.

I justified taking the kids out of school for 2 days as some experiences are an education in themselves. Whether this one was or not is undecided. At least, it definitely did not educate in the ways I had anticipated . . . but I digress. We left for Provo yesterday to convene with the others. We had lunch at tribal headquarters, finished packing gear, had a slight medical delay and finally got on the road around 3:00 bound for Goblin Valley.

We made multiple stops and encountered road construction between Price & Green River (honestly, the road construction in this state seems to be ubiquitous!) and pulled into the Visitor's Center around 7:30 p.m. After a brief bathroom break and weather update from the ranger (possible 45 mph winds and some rain tomorrow), we discovered the van had a flat tire. We are miles from civilization and no cell-service for AAA. Rob put on the spare (thank you Rob!) and we headed gingerly down a side road towards Ding Dang Canyon to find a place to camp.

We settled on a place out from the bluff, nestled among some "beehives of dirt" (thank you Kim) and set up camp: Me, D & A in one tent, E & S in another, and R, G & K in their tent. The kids were tired; Anna had no appetite and just wanted to go to bed. It was a little windy and she didn't the sound of the tent flapping in the wind. I got her to sleep and then re-emerged to help Daffodil eat some dinner and get marshmallow free to go to bed.

Daffodil was also freaked out by the wind and really anxious about the fire. I kept trying to reassure her that the fire would die down and the wind wasn't going to hurt us. I lay between the 2 girls, holding a small hand in each of my own with the biggest tussock sprouting in the small of my back. The girls started to quiet down but the tent did not.

The flapping got worse.

The wind got worse.

The tent began to blow in on us and I feared it would collapse. I finally dragged myself out and, sure enough, one of the poles had snapped. I roused Eden out of her bed too so she could hold a flashlight for me so I could doctor the tent poles with duct tape (feeling smug that I had brought the super stuff along thanks again to Lindsey). I taped the pole in a couple of places and at both ends to prevent the pegs from slipping out of the poles. The wind also revealed the design flaw of that tent: clips attach the fabric of the tent to the poles, but the clips move around and come off in fierce winds. And, let me be clear, the wind was beginning to be fierce. A collapsing tent also meant louder flapping. I crawled in and out a couple of times to wrestle with the poles, afraid we might be asphyxiated by the tent fabric blown over our faces. Finally, I decided to abandon the tent for the car.

Daffodil was awake and wimpering so I took her to the car and settled her in the reclined driver's seat and went back for Anna (tripped and fell over R & G's line staking their tent down). I threw car seats in the back and lay Anna on the middle seat. I also grabbed our bag and my purse out of the tent but left the sleeping pads and dirty clothes to be dealt with in the morning.

Back in the car I lay in the front seat wondering if there was enough oxygen in the car to last us through the night; would we be asphyxiated in the car? I cracked the window and drew immediate protests from Daffodil as the sound of the wind intensified. We went back and forth on various window positions until finally I relented and shut the window. Then I watched the fire and began to worry as I could see the wind stoking the coals and blowing sparks towards E & S' tent. What if the tent I abandoned made its way to the fire and then blew into the other tents? I left the car to douse out the fire. While in the center of camp, I discovered the wind had blown away the top to the kitchen box and the contents were scattering so I took that back to the van. I checked on E & S. They were awake and freaked by the wind. I let them know where I was and that I had put water on the fire.

It wasn't too long before E & S came trudging their sleeping bags to the car, followed by Georgia & Kim who stuffed E & S's tent in the back of the van. I had to rearrange again to try and make space of the floor for Soren and in the back seat for Eden. Georgia said their tent was straining in the wind too so we decided to pack up. I headed back out into the wind to gather the rest of our things. By now the wind was a full-on sandstorm as the 45 mph winds whipped up that find red sand and silt and blew it everywhere: in the eyes, the nose, the mouth, the hair. I'm convinced our beehives of shelter constituted a wind tunnel too. :) It was difficult to see to pack up. And one other difficulty: my tent was blown away.

Where our stuff had been, nothing remained.

The tent, tarp and rain fly were gone. The big bin to hold all the gear was gone. I took a flashlight and went wandering back behind the dirt beehives to see if I could find anything. I found the bin. I found the tent. I found the bin lid. The rain fly and at least one stuff sack (for our best tent!) remain gone forever. I tried to wrestle the tent into the bin to carry back but remember? I had duct-taped the thing and now couldn't undo it. I collapsed what poles I could tried to lug the load against the wind back to camp. Let me tell you, it is not easy to drag a half-erected tent that wants to billow like a sail and transport you away. I managed to get it back to R & G and then lost the lid to the bin again. I had Kim step in the bin on the tent to hold it down while I went chasing off into the windy desert again to find the lid.

In the end, we stuffed everything (and "stuff" really is the right word here) into the cars and bailed. It had started to rain a little and a couple of washes separated us from the main road so we were anxious to get past those in case a worse storm broke.

We left Goblin Valley, without even having stepped foot in the park, at 1:30 in the morning. We caravaned in case I had trouble with the spare tire and rolled into Provo around 5:30 a.m. My plan was to sleep at my dad's and deal with the car in the morning. But dad was out of town and had forgot to put out the spare key before he left so the kids and I headed north again and got home around 6:30 this morning. Kim spelled me off driving so I did sleep for 1 hour in the car and I got a few hours sleep this morning before dealing with the wreckage.

I did snap a few photos of the kids in the car during the wee hours and documented some of the mayhem this morning:

p.s., My kids find it hard to go anywhere without a mini library in tow.

The wind even ruined one of Soren's book by filling the pages so thoroughly with sand and silt that the binding is ruined:

The doughnut that traveled over 250 miles:

Other than having to deal with getting new tires, I am most bummed about that darn stuff sack.

And, oh yeah, I really wanted to see those goblins too.

Weekend Festivities

2011-04-19T21:42:00.003-07:00

This weekend we celebrated Anna & Jacob's wedding. I spent a lot of time in the last couple of weeks folding paper to make these:

The lighting at our venue was pretty bad so I have no good photos but I'll give you some glimpses of the beautiful couple anyway:

As part of the talent show I sang a few wobbly notes with Martin and, for the first time in my life, played a duet with mon pere:

There was a lot of sibling revelry and (inadequately captured) rousing dish-washing and dancing:

In lieu of a cake, we had some pretty yummy smoothies:

I wish I had better photos from the party and the weekend generally. I do have a couple of photos from one of the lake walks and yet more fun with the phragmites:

Coming home we spotted this sandhill crane--a sweet coda to what was, for me, truly a joyful few days.

The latest experiment in color

2011-04-03T20:14:00.003-07:00

Traveling the country mile

2011-03-29T20:27:00.003-07:00

Lately I've been remembering this post from the last time we were confronting a crossroads. We seem to go in 3-5 year cycles where everything needs to be reevaluated and major decisions made.

It's that time again.

Here's my mental soundtrack:

Photos from some recent lake walks

2011-03-20T20:19:00.007-07:00

coots:

great blue heron:

dropped stitches in cloud yarn:

playing on the ice drifts:

chasing dogs:

walking:

stashing treasures:

solidarity:

Scratching the surface

2011-02-23T17:34:00.007-07:00

I know I have mentioned before that I am prone to vivid and sometimes crazy dreams (see here and here). This week has also been an interesting one in slumberland. Yesterday morning I woke up bearing the marks of my vehement somnolent scratching:

(Not fully captured here.)

Last night involved singing on tour in living architectural spaces with a group that included Jennifer Aniston. I particularly remember a church space in which the roof was tall lavender-esque flowers crowding out of a repurposed, steel tractor-trailer container. I also unwittingly took Ms. Aniston's chair without realizing she was singing with us and she was surprised and slightly irritated at my lack of reverence towards her. Though I have had other portentous dreams this week, green roofs and Aniston is not one of them.

Although on second thought, if a blooming sacred space is in my future, I'll take it.

Bald Eagle Day

2011-02-06T13:55:00.008-07:00

We were introduced to Bald Eagle Day a couple of years ago via the awesome Bean Museum and loved it. This year, Bald Eagle Day happens to coincide with birthday plans for Soren (we couldn't convince him to make eagles part of the celebration), so we headed out yesterday to see if we could find some.

Our outing threatened to be a wild eagle chase as, for the first time ever, google maps failed me in directions to Farmington Bay Bird Refuge (turns out Glover Lane is key for the north end).

Ahhh, but in the end, we DID find the eagles (and some geese). Not as many as in 2009, but still probably about 20 adults and maybe a few juveniles. Martin got to try out his telephoto lens and even Anna tried the binoculars this time.

Soren wasn't really interested in the birds, all he wanted to do was play with "exploding hotdogs", i.e., cattail wars.

You can kind of see some of the fluff that explodes off these things in this one, follow Daffodil's eyes:

Also, this photo cracks me up as it reveals Daffodil's toilet-paper tail hanging out of her pants--a hold over from one of the gas stations we stopped at to look at maps and ask directions. I didn't realize she was sporting this until we got home, but here it is documented....

A couple more of our primary subjects:

While walking farther down the dike road, we also spotted a gaggle of herons (can I use that term for herons?), Great Blues to be exact. We spotted the one shown below first and then discovered that there were 5 or 6 others along the edge of the phragmites. The light was going at this point, so we didn't get so many photos.

Though we got to the bay later than the optimal birding times listed, it turned out to be a good time for the alpen glow and other beautiful light and texture details.

Heading out in search of eagles meant the laundry didn't get done and a few other chores weren't finished but it was so worth it. Birds and lakes and rushes and mountains and sky were exactly what I needed. I only wonder why we don't do this more often and don't you think there would be some way to make this enticing to a few 10/11-year-old boys? Binoculars, maps, exploring, cattail fights, what's not to love? My mind is buzzing with a birding birthday party theme (even though birthday parties are sort of an anomaly around here, let alone themed ones). Can you picture it?

Look what I dug up in the basement

2011-01-27T21:22:00.004-07:00

I went looking for a photo of me playing the piano the other night (for another project in progress) and the only one I have is this one from the infamous photo shoot of 1994:

While pawing through pictures I came across a few others I wanted to scan. Here they are in no particular order.

Here's one of Martin from the same year as the piano photo:

My four-year-old self:

A four-generation shot from Winget Women in 2005:

And this cute butterfly caught at an awesome birthday party thrown by none other than E. Shakes:

What kills me about this last photo other than the cuteness is the fact that Daffodil is younger here than Anna is now.

I am feeling time's "wings of lightning".

1/12/11

2011-01-12T21:18:00.010-07:00

(Source.)

Today was another day of existential crisis.

It could be because it is January. January is officially my worst month. It is bitter cold with no bright holiday trimmings, plans or projects to cheer things up; Love Month and birthdays are another few weeks away; the inversion settles into the valley like a great grey monster sucking the life-force out of me.

Though these things are real factors at work, the more proximate cause is probably application work hanging over me. It is ironic that trying to move in new directions in the future entails looking so forcibly at the past. This brings up the boogie-man questions of what have I done with my life? What do I have to show for myself? What resources/capacities do I have to bring to bear in realizing these new pathways?

Specifically, my research on schools today brought me face to face with someone I used to know. I didn't know her well, but we were in the same "cohort" as Martin would say. I hadn't thought of this woman for over 15 years and it turns out she is now excelling in an area I wish that I was. I admit to looking at her with some envy and a little despair. I couldn't help wishing for a few moments that my path had more closely mirrored hers.

I promptly abandoned further research in favor of a nap.

The only way I know how to deal with these feelings (aside from running to the baked goods and/or comfy mattress) is to try to consciously remind myself of the particulars of my path I am grateful for.

I'm glad I had my children when I did. I could have had children later, presumably, but I wouldn't have the ones I do now; those eggs would have exited forever (tmi?) and the circumstances that have helped to shape them wouldn't have been the same. Along with allowing me to know these four beautiful people, having children has also transected my path with a lot of other people important in my life. I'm grateful not only for the children themselves, but for the village that has helped me in my raising efforts. In fact, having children is almost the biggest factor in almost all of the other circumstances of my life thus far: the friendships I've developed, the employers/ mentors I've had, even particular neighbors we've had in that they've influenced the housing we've looked for.

I'm grateful for my time studying in Hawaii. I wouldn't have had those experiences if I had charged ahead with Plan A back in 1997. I'm glad I discovered American philosophy and had exposure to Japanese, Indian and Chinese thought. I'm glad I got to participate in the Philosophy in the Schools project and work with the nursing professors that I did at UH.

I'm glad that I learned more about myself and my own writing process in the last few years. And I'm glad that I've taken time to be home while my kids are small; the pace of life is different. I love snuggling down with Anna (and Daffodil, Soren and Eden before her) to read books and take a nap in the afternoon sometimes. I'm glad to be outside at a park (minus the aforementioned inversion) or pushing a stroller on the parkway or gently encouraging her off my lap at library story time.

This list is by no means exhaustive; there are other experiences/perspectives I've been mulling over too, but you get the general idea. Document your experiences, document your blessings.

Now I just have to figure out how these things have helped/prepared me for what's next. Oh yeah, and convince the admissions committee.

Ravaged by Fire

2011-01-09T21:43:00.005-07:00

Thursday night the home of Martin's sister's family caught fire. Thank heavens every precious living thing got out of the house and is okay. I don't know a lot of the details on what caused the fire, but I do know this beautiful family is displaced and that their home and possessions are destroyed (minus, miraculously, dissertation research and family history).

If you have a few extra prayers to offer for them or some other form of positive reinforcement, we'd be grateful. There's nothing like a sudden disaster to highlight what fragile lives we live.

It is inspiring to see their community reaching out to them in many amazing ways; I'm so grateful for that. Several people have asked us if there is anything they can do to help them. The best thing I can suggest at this point is donating to their relief fund below and/or keeping those prayers coming. Thank you!

Egan Family Fire Fund
c/o Seneca Falls Savings Bank
19 Cayuga Street
Seneca Falls, New York 13148

p.s., I don't know when the last time I checked our smoke alarms was (maybe when we moved in?). I don't think we even have any carbon monoxide detectors and a fireproof safe just jumped up my priority list.

1/1/11

2011-01-01T22:00:00.012-07:00

It's a new year and a new beginning. Ours started rather frightfully with a 4 a.m. double-ring of the doorbell. What? Yes, it's true. Some anonymous soul alerted us with the bell to the fact that our sprinklers were exploding in the front lawn (well, spraying some and shooting forth a fountain out of the broken head).

Somehow, we forgot to turn off the valve to the pipes.

Somehow, the sprinkler system started by itself in the middle of the night and ran through 4 stations (~2 hours of watering the snow).

What we can't figure out is how it got set to go off at all. This has not happened since we stopped watering. No one confesses to messing with the settings or unplugging/replugging the system.

Perhaps the turn of the year in the system controls induced our waterworks? (Martin thinks this unlikely.)

Though I can't offer you an answer to our mystery, I can give you a glimpse of the ice it produced:

Check out that last one. Can you see the individual drops of water frozen into small beads of ice?

We hope that the burst of water does not signify other disaster or frozen motion for our 2011. We did try to infuse a little auspicious luck into our future with some New Year's black-eyed peas.

Let's hope the lucky legumes merit their reputation.

While out running errands today (including rescuing my locked-out mother), I found myself next to Walgreen's and decided to try Chi's recommended nail polish:

Over the holidays I had my first-ever professional manicure during spa day with my mom and sisters; all of us save one chose a non-color. I can't remember the last time I had a hue on my nails so even my fingertips are on to new things; today we mixed things up a bit. On a whim. All good things I'd say.

Finally, if you have thoughts of pushing the reset button, starting over, or generally giving things another go, you might find this podcast tangentially interesting: The Moment Before Zero. It's all about having another go, possibly redefining your starting point, and thus changing your story.

Happy New Year! May 2011 be a good one for you.

Merry Through Music

2010-11-30T21:30:00.010-07:00

So our Christmas season officially started on Thursday, Thanksgiving. Not because we went and got a tree (we didn't) and not because we went shopping (we didn't), but because we made some music that evening.

In anticipating other music events this past weekend, I realized that music largely defines the Christmas season for me. The kick-off is rehearsing with the community choir and/or BYU's choral concert, followed mid-month by a rousing carol-sing at our house to celebrate Martin's birthday, followed by the community choir concert my Dad puts on, and ending with the King's College broadcast on Christmas eve. In the last couple of years we have also added the carol service at the Cathedral of the Madeleine; as this somewhat approximates the King's College service, it is probably my favorite. In total, this ends up being some major music event at least once a week in December, not including advent singing or any other concerts that we sometimes attend.

Some years we go to a Messiah sing-in if I am on the ball enough to find out when it is being put on. In college I got to sing the whole piece with the Early Music Ensemble and it remains another of my all-time favorites (this year I started listening to it mid-November). On Sunday Martin and I went with my mom to the sing-in hosted by the Utah Symphony. Although they cut some parts out, it was still great. "Great" is such a weak word, it hardly conveys the bouncing excitement I felt as we ran through the snow storm to make the orchestral tuning or the happy satisfaction and tired voice afterwards. It was worth braving the storm and bad roads.

Our schedule accommodated another concert on Saturday, an organ concert my dad gave at a private residence in Holladay. This time around, he played a lot of his own arrangements including some carols. I had heard most of these, of course, but I hadn't heard all of the stories around the composing, nor had I ever heard them in a setting quite like that. (Can I add a private Bigelow pipe organ/library to my list for Santa?) Johanna loaned me her digital recorder so I (hopefully) have it all documented. If I figure out how to work with the files, I will post a snippet here.

But back to the Thanksgiving strains. Said musical strains consisted of jamming with the lovely Tryst Press folks and a fellow in the neighborhood. I wish I'd had the camera on me to take photos of Martin playing his nose (pinching it and experimenting with vocal sounds) and throat (pinching his would-be jowls and shaking vigorously), and Eden with the slide whistle or croaking wooden frogs. My musical education is sadly lacking in jamming skills but I enjoyed the show, learned the blues chord progression, and strummed a banjo in my turn. I hope there's a next time.

Though the turkey blues weren't captured, Martin did snap a photo on his phone at the Messiah:

And, just for kicks, here is a shot post-Messiah, just before Martin went to shave off his beard:

Happy Christmas season to you. If you're looking for something in the merriment department, I highly recommend music making or consuming. It's good for the soul, you know?

(Oh, and call me. I might join you.)

Thanksgivingish Thoughts

2010-11-14T14:52:00.006-07:00

1. I've always loved Abraham Lincoln; he is one of my personal heroes. I love that he used to give speeches to the creatures in the forest. I love that he was/is considered ungainly and homely. I love that he schooled himself in the law. I love that he was willing to face difficult questions. And I love that he declared a day of Thanksgiving. I was so struck, listening to part of this recently, with how religious the language is.

And I love his humility. (More on this in a minute.)

2. Daffodil and I have been reading our way through the Little House books. Though there are some aspects to these stories (Native American history) and characters (Ma) that can sometimes be a little hard to stomach and/or require me to make some asides while we're reading, I love these books. We recently finished The Long Winter and I find myself continually amazed at how much food (and variety!) we have to eat, a warm house, and light. Eden now mocks my frequent references to Laura Ingalls.

I find myself compulsively buying more wheat. (For real.)

3. A couple of nights ago I finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns for book club. This was a difficult book for me to read; I frequently leaked tears into my pillow trying to go to sleep and it disturbed my dreams. But I liked it, if "like" is the right word. It woke me up to other things I take for granted besides food and heat and light. Like civil rights and redress. Like being able to walk outside or get on a bus by myself. Unveiled.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my good, tender-hearted, loving and adoring husband?

4. As one who sort of looks on in amazement to shows of confidence, I've often wondered about the relationship (if any) between confidence/chutzpa/pride/humility. When and how is the line between self-confidence and arrogance (or ignorance) crossed?

How do you foster the one without the other?

I felt like I was given an unexpected answer to this ongoing, internal debate a few weeks ago. This will sound cliché, but I think it's true despite the platitude. The key is gratitude. A thankful heart acknowledges the giver of the gifts/talents/opportunities/orchestrated circumstances, etc., and is thereby safeguarded from the temptation to credit the self.

It might even be a reciprocal relationship; thankfulness may also bolster confidence. I'm still thinking on this one. In any case, I know when I am more aware of the ways I have been shepherded, it is easier for me to hope in this continual care.

With that I leave you with this one, final tidbit: I am now dreaming logic games. See, I still want to be like Abraham Lincoln.

Amphibious Fish

2010-11-08T22:00:00.003-07:00

I love the rain.

Maybe it's because I grew up and live in the desert where the rain is a rare treat. Maybe I have an inherent love for water; I am a fish, after all.

I loved the rain in Hawaii too, though the rain there is usually not cold enough to stop you from swimming or other outside play. In fact, the torrential downpours could be sport in themselves. Witness below:

Oahu 2004

I miss those downpours actually, and the rushing in the culvert up behind our apartment complex. I had never experienced a rain so enthusiastic as to completely drench me in a 1/2 block before.

I dream of the Northeast. Maybe I would tire of the rain there? I have a hard time imagining it with my appetite for green and wet. Fish aren't meant to parch up in the desert.

I remember our first rainy season in Hawaii I felt like I was breathing water; nothing ever felt dry. But you know, just this weekend I found myself having a hard time breathing in a steam shower so maybe I am really an amphibious fish instead.

They don't exist you say?

Well I think at least one does now.

Kauai 2003

Halloween

2010-11-02T20:29:00.003-07:00

I was hoping for better photos of this year's charade, but this is the best I've got.

Eden as magician/ringmaster:

Soren was such an active jester that he lost all of the jingle bells off his costume:

I stayed up really late a couple of nights while Martin was out of town knitting this scarf for a would-be Hermione:

(Aside: Halloween suits Daffodil's hair; her naturally messy, bushy hair is in fashion for 24 hours a year.)

Anna looks like a cross between Little Red Riding Hood and Dorothy:

My mom held a fun party for all of the grandchildren again this year. She freaked half of them out with her witch-acting. Just today I caught Anna playing witch and speaking in a low, raspy voice....

And speaking of costumes, today I finished making a bonnet and apron for Daffodil to be a pilgrim named "Mary" for the month of November at school:

I hope you all had a fun Halloween!

Liberated Locks

2010-10-23T21:48:00.002-07:00

I succumbed to the temptation to cut. I never manage to hold out too long.

Name that Kitty

2010-10-19T20:22:00.002-07:00

I am having pet déjà vu.

Our first family pet was a stray cat that adopted us in Logan. She showed up, liked our family, was sociable, undemanding and clean (i.e., I did not have to deal with a litter box). She sort of hung around and after a couple of weeks or so developed an abscess on her paw; after paying a veterinary bill I finally owned that we had a cat.

Unfortunately, Miss Moppet met an untimely end a couple of summers ago. We think she was poisoned by someone in the neighborhood; we do not know this but there are rumors.

A year and a half ago we made a second attempt at harboring a cat. We had toyed with the idea of getting another one but didn't pursue it wholeheartedly. My mum-in-law often called us with prospects and one finally caught our attention: Mopp. This long-haired orange tabby was looking for a new home and his name seemed like a sign, you know Moppet, Mopp. I don't know, it was just familiar. So we adopted Mopp. This experiment did not go so well. The cat was feral in our house for a month or so and then disappeared. For all we know, he may still be a feral cat but we've never seen him since.

I was done with pets for good after that last one. Dogs are too much work. At least for me at this stage of my life, when I contemplate taking on a dog, all I see is another set of needs for me to take care of. Our area of SLC actually has a leash law for cats. Go figure (or explain if you can). I didn't willingly want to sign up to break the law and I did not want a cat pan, so cats were out.

But.

You've seen this coming all along, right? Yep, we took in another stray. Or that is, another stray adopted us: hung around, deigned to be abused by Daffodil and Anna (said abuse consists of being hauled around and tail pulled) and still came back for more. She made a more gradual entrance into our lives but today I paid the vet bill for yet another abscess so I guess it's official: we have a cat.

A cat with no name. Moppet was named right away, but though I love to ascribe names to many things (animate and inanimate), I am stuck. So far she has been called "kitty", "topaz", "tortoise". Care to suggest some other possibilities? Let me introduce you:

She does not look her best here. She is still drunk on anesthetic and nauseated, hobbling down to the door every hour or so to go outside and wretch. See, even in her distressed state, she has good manners.

And once again, this cat may really belong to someone else. If you have any information on this cat, please let us know; we do not mean to steal. Maybe the rightful owner will want to pick up the hefty vet tab?

Salvaging

2010-10-12T20:16:00.003-07:00

Trying to see good things in this day:

a run on the parkway
dress-up girls and a patient kitty
a great gift of Fall bounty: 6 boxes of local, organic concords (now juicing)
3rd round of apple butter on the stove
arrival of 2 books I've been waiting for
a good laugh over Scarlet O'Hara misery
a fairly successful celery experiment
running out, with dinner on the stove and in the oven, to get my eyebrows waxed
moss knitting project revived
my first-ever taste of fresh walleye
bedtime reading with the "little girls" (D objects to this title)

See, lots of good things here and even more not listed.

But still, I've been haunted by a nagging emptiness today. I'm not sure that emptiness is even the right word, sadness maybe. All swirling around a couple of issues but still refusing to be pinpointed exactly.

I've been reading the Little House on the Prairie books to Daffodil and Anna. It's good to get some perspective on hard work, disappointment, patience, cheerfulness, forbearance.

My post-waxing acne should show up just in time for a family wedding this weekend.

I'll be sure to kiss the bride.

Series Post Post Script

2010-10-10T20:14:00.003-07:00

Okay, really, this is it.

I decided to include one last thing from this summer: a talk I gave back in June. Some of this is kind of personal and my notes are a little disjointed (the delivery was too, I believe). Why am I posting this? I don't know except that I was thinking about it today and decided to put it out there for what it's worth.

I was asked to speak on honoring Heavenly Father. As I was reading with this topic simmering in my mind, the following passage in John stuck out to me. This is in John chapter 5; after Jesus heals an invalid at the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath, he explains to the Jews a little more about his relationship with the Father:

John 5:18-20, 23, 37,38
“Therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he not only had broken the sabbath, but said also that God was his Father, making himself equal with God.
“Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.
“For the Father loveth the Son, and sheweth him all things that himself doeth: and he will shew him greater works than these, thay ye may marvel.” ...
(23)” That all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. He that honoureth not the Son honoureth not the Father which hath sent him.”

This scripture essentially captures the thesis of my message: that we honor Heavenly Father in receiving his Son and turning to the atonement.

When Heavenly Father has spoken to people on the earth, it has been to introduce his Son, Jesus Christ. This happened when Christ was baptized (Matthew 3:17 “And lo a voice from heaven saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”; When Christ appeared to the Nephites after his resurrection, they heard a voice from heaven saying, “Behold my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, in whom I have glorified my name--hear ye him” (3 Nephi 11:7); and when he appeared to Joseph Smith: “This is my Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (JS-H 1:17)

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.”

In order to receive the Son, we first have to acknowledge our need for a Savior. It is hard to learn if we think we already know; hard to accept a Savior if we don’t see our need for one. This involves recognizing our own nothingness and the power of God.
As the Proverbs say, “before honor is humility” (15:33)
2 Timothy 3:5 “Having a form of godliness; but denying the power thereof”.
Jesus’ disciples acknowledged his divinity and power: Matthew 16:13 “Jesus asked his disciples, saying, “Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:13-16)
It seems to be a turning point for many prophets in the scriptures when they recognize their guilt and need for the Savior (Enos, Alma).

Jacob 4:11 “Wherefore, beloved brethren, be reconciled unto [God] through the atonement of Christ, his Only Begotten Son.”
In thinking about this topic, I've thought about my own father a lot too. Growing up I had firm family pride; my family was the best family in the world. As I got a little older I began to see my family’s dysfunctions more. With my parents divorce, my illusion of a strong, happy family was shattered. In dealing with this I harbored some resentment towards my parents--first my mother and then my father. About 7 or 8 years ago, Elder Scott spoke in General Conference about asking for forgiveness, even if you didn’t feel like you had done anything wrong. ("You may be carrying a heavy burden of feeling injured by another who has seriously offended you. ... Don’t carry the burden of offense any longer. Genuinely ask forgiveness of one that has offended you, even when you consider you have done no wrong. That effort will assuredly bring you peace and will likely begin the healing of serious misunderstandings.") I felt prompted to do this with my father, to ask him for forgiveness for the hard feelings I had had towards him. It took me a while still to work up to it, but when I did, it was a tender reconciliation. It didn't change what had happened, but it did help me in how I felt about it and healing like Elder Scott promised.

We can honor Heavenly Father by turning to the atonement for forgiveness. The atonement of the Son allows us reconciliation with the Father.

Another story about my father. As many of you know, my father is a professional musician. In high school and college I sang in choirs he directed and toured with him giving concerts. I sort of took this for granted; it was what I knew. After I left home and married, while traveling home late one night I flipped on the radio and heard a choral arrangement my father had written. I had such a strong feeling of gratitude for the exposure and gifts my father had given me. Likewise, I think we honor Heavenly Father by cultivating gratitude for all that He’s given us, including the gift of his Son.

One last story about my own father: In the last couple of years since moving here, I have started to work with my Dad again in studying the organ. I can tell when we work together that he loves to share what he loves with me. This is the same whether it is music or family history or a good book. Similarly, we honor Heavenly Father by making his work our work. We can’t force an interest in anything, but I believe that as we draw closer to the Son, it will be a natural outgrowth for our interests to also align with His.

It is my prayer that we will strive to honor Heavenly Father by more fully receiving his Son: by turning to the atonement and using it more in our lives, by seeking forgiveness, by cultivating gratitude. I know as we do this Heavenly Father will honor our efforts. He promises us this in 1 Samuel 2:30: “them that honour me I will honour”.

The Rain is Humble

2010-10-07T18:28:00.006-07:00

Allow me to translate:

The Rain is Humble

the rain is humble
when the rain pours down
I see the cloud going
down with it too
the sky is so
pretty
it is so gray
it is so quiet
it is so cold

Series Post Script

2010-10-03T20:37:00.004-07:00

Did I say I was done with the "What we've been up to this summer" bit?

Well, I have to add one more thing that figured significantly into my summer: quilting.

I pieced the largest quilt I've done to date, another Kaffe knock-off, as an anniversary gift. I spent many happy hours at the sewing machine listening to podcasts (a line-up of favorites coming soon) and pairing up colors and patterns.

Here are the promised photos:

Contest Results*

2010-10-02T21:42:00.005-07:00

*Warning: photo heavy

A few months ago I won a photo shoot with Carrie Elton, an old friend from high school who is
now a professional photographer.

I debated about posting any of these but decided to include some here for Anne & Ryan (and anyone else who cares, but missed the FB preview Carrie posted). Thanks Carrie and hopefully we'll get another chance to catch up some more!

Domestic Update

2010-09-20T21:00:00.006-07:00

I canned pickles for the first time ever today. It will be weeks yet before we know if they are any good; but still, it feels good to try something new.

(I thought I was being tricky and aesthetic by putting in those red peppers but after the fact, I think they look kind of freaky. They're too big and who knows what hanky-panky they're exercising on the flavor.)

In other domestic news, I got my newest quilt back from the fair today. I won't be attempting to display there again. I was all excited at the prospect of maybe getting to see the thing hung (thereby enabling a photo) but no such luck. When we ventured up to see the exhibits, I couldn't even find my quilt at first. When we finally did locate it, all you could see was about 12" x 48" of the BACK of the king-size patchwork.

What a let down.

Between our 2 visits we managed to enjoy the fair anyway though. Anna loved trying to feed the little goats hay. All of the little ones were anxious to know the names of the rabbits. We cooed over the chickens, got pangs over gorgeous dahlias, goggled at posing sea lions, judged the fine arts and home arts divisions ourselves (thank you very much), and indulged in funnel cakes and kettle corn.

I'll go back again even if my quilts won't.*

*When I find a way to take a picture of the anniversary quilt, I'll post one.

First Grade Self-Portraits

2010-09-15T19:02:00.005-07:00

Notice 1) that D has a fascination with braces right now. All self-portraits (which she draws frequently!) currently feature braces or retainers. Apparently a girl in her class wears both a top and a bottom retainer and this has made a mighty impression.

2) Self-portraits and all other drawings now brandish a price tag.

What we've been up to this summer: the last installment

2010-09-12T20:37:00.010-07:00

The tail end of our summer and into the first week of school, we had Buchert family in town. The far-flung eastern-most and western-most siblings were here, nieces and nephew in tow. The Moondogs missed the vast bulk of the interaction as we were up at Bear Lake the first week, and then back in school for the last week. But we crammed in all the time we could on the weekends and some during the week.

Since it is rare that all of the siblings are together, one item on the agenda was to take some photos. Dad Buchert ended up back in the hospital the day after Heidi's arrival so the family convened at UVRMC for the photos. You may have seen this one. Here is another gem from the photo shoot, spontaneous sibling frolicking:

Immediately following this event, some of us went for a jaunt down at the lake. Have I mentioned before how much I love Utah Lake? I have a vast number of photos from this stretch by the airport; it is one of my favorite places to escape to. I have an essay brewing on Utah Lake as my own Tinker Creek, but I digress. This particular Sunday evening we meandered. The boys jumped and practiced a routine they were working on. And a stiff wind came up. I may not have mentioned that I love wind (oh wait, I have). I do.

Another activity from that first weekend was a $2 children's art show, in which we invited neighbors and random people off the street to peruse the grandchildren's artistry. Josie earned enough money this way to buy a kitty-in-a-bag she desperately wanted from Heindselman's. (Daffodil is now marking her scribbles with price tags, yesterday's were marked at $13/ea. I think we may have given them an inflated sense of earning capacity!)

Other activities from the reunion marathon included: cheering Jeanne & Heidi on at the salon for haircuts, a temple trip for the older youth, kite flying, laser tag, an author/illustrator night at the library, picnics in the park and up the canyon, a family dance--limbo included. Each of these occasions could merit their own post but I imagine you may be done with this series. I'm afraid it may be starting to resemble some weary travelogue. I'll leave you with some kite-flying photos and a video of what happens when Soren tires of the kite strings:

I hope you had a great summer too!

What we've been up to this summer: Bear Lake

2010-09-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

What we've been up to this summer: Burchwin Reunion

2010-09-07T19:58:00.003-07:00

We've done a lot of reunionizing this summer with different circles of people. Where's my Venn diagram when I need it? The first weekend in August we had a mini-Manoa-ward reunion in the mountains of Utah. Happily, several of the families that we made friends with while in Hawaii also ended up in Utah but it isn't always easy to get together with the busyness of life. In the Spring we met for Thai food and carved out a couple of days this summer to converge at the cabin. Here it is, nestled in its sweet spot:

There's not a lot to report other than a good, relaxing time (at least for us; those who were sleep deprived may not be able to say the same!). We learned a new game and stayed up really late discussing faith and politics.

We went for walks

and played at a recently-discovered/maybe abandoned? fort:

We sang songs (here are Martin and Ben doing a rousing rendition of Ghostriders in the Sky)

and played with sugar and fire:

One day while driving home from church in Honolulu, Martin got to reminiscing about all of the great people we've been able to meet and interact with (this includes you!). I'm so glad our world collided with these people too.

What we've been up to this summer: Bedroom remodel/shuffle

2010-09-04T21:01:00.004-07:00

It was time to finally cede the office to bedroom space this summer. Not too complicated, right? In our case, the job of moving Eden's bedroom downstairs had a domino effect. The task list went something like this:

move moondog supplies to my mom's for storage
reorganize and empty my nemesis closet in the office
weed through toys in the playroom
weed through books in the office
search for and purchase office hutch for the living room
move computer gear upstairs
go through 2 filing cabinets of files (still need to shred docs)
dismantle desk and take to dad's to store
paint entire basement ceiling
paint playroom walls
paint bathroom walls
move bookcases and books from office into playroom
move filing cabinets into playroom
paint bedroom walls
replace cosmetic fixtures in the bathroom (towel racks, shower head, light fixture, toilet seat, etc.)
make new curtains for bathroom
move E's bed, bookcase and dresser downstairs with all their contents
sift through years of accumulated papers in E's closet, empty closet
haul old civil-war rope bed out of storage and set this up in E's room for S
move S' bed and dresser into E's old room
move one bookcase from basement upstairs
dismantle bunk bed and take to Joh
set up new bed for D & A
reorganize other storage closet and install storage plastic storage drawers for sewing stuff
reorganize my sewing stuff out of dresser downstairs
move dresser upstairs for A
get new computer for upstairs
shuffle prints/wall decorations

I think that about covers it.

That about covers the rest of July too.

The results are not stunning but it is an improvement. Unfortunately, I was so eager to begin the project that I have no "before" shots, so I've scrounged the archives to give you some contrast. The spaces are small so the "after" images don't show much either. Maybe it's better that way. :)

The office became E's bedroom:

The playroom gained bookshelves:

The bathroom is happier:

S now has his own room:

And I no longer have to duck to climb in bed with the little girls:

I just finished hanging some of the art work back up today.

Some projects are never really done, you know?

In which we interrupt our series to bring you this photo

2010-08-30T09:04:00.016-07:00

The entire Buchert clan minus 1:

We missed you Todd!

p.s., Having fun with all the props kept reminding me of this book.

p.p.s, I'm having trouble with the photo sizing again. Sorry Andy for getting you obscured here. Hopefully I can fix this soon.

What we've been up to this summer: Borg reunion 2010

2010-08-28T07:53:00.005-07:00

A slight preface about the borg. The borg is a group of friends that go back to college and high school. Lindy Lou coined the name to connote a deep connection. We don't really have a collective unconscious but a lot of shared history, and the nickname stuck. Our last reunion retreat was in 2006 and it was high time for a repeat. Rather than a blow-by-blow, I offer you some 4:59s:

thirfting
La Jolla sampling
sytycd highlights
top bunk sleepover
happy hippie shoes
tulle flowers galore
head shots against a saturated green door
a little stretching
delectable rhubarb
heart to hearts over spirituality and other personal matters
orgasmic color
combing magazines for thematic/inspiring words & images
Jrae massages
laughing
crying
loving on Dalton

I came away with exactly 2 picture from the weekend. Sometimes I just get immersed in the experience and never draw out the camera, you know?

And Eroo, you were deeply missed.

What we've been up to this summer: Winget Women

2010-08-24T13:56:00.010-07:00

Winget Women is a retreat for the adult female posterity of my maternal great-grandmother. In years past this has included my grandma and her 4 sisters, their sister-in-laws as the matriarchs and their daughters, granddaughters and great-granddaughters. It is really kind of cool to mingle in a living family tree. I don't think I would have gotten to know some of my mother's cousins and some of my second and third cousins without this tradition.

The original retreat was to escape and play games without the responsibilities of children to look after. Of course the games are just the vehicle for connection. Every family has modes that they gravitate to in spending time together; games is one in my family. But the primary activity is talking: getting acquainted and/or catching up. This hen party does not appeal to everyone naturally; claustrophobia from limited space in the crammed cabin or from limited personal space of mind/time/conversation drives some people away. I was leery myself at first. The initial years I was eligible to go (i.e., 18 or older) I declined. I think this is mainly because my mom and sister raved about it and I was not especially close to my mom at the time. But now I wish I could have been there every year--taken advantage of the times when I was local and had had the means to come when we were not.

Highlights from this particular year for me were playing pinocchle with my mom and aunts; learning a new card game from Anabel; the tribe sharing memories of the matriarchs as this was the first year that they are all gone; lying in bed dissecting the family craziness late into the night with my cousin (and inadvertently getting her back in my sleep for all the times she attacked me while dreaming).

In some ways this is not a restful retreat even though I took a book along and managed to break away and read a bit too. I came home exhausted from little sleep and so much interaction for this introvert. But it is so worth it to me. The only thing that could have made it better was if my own sisters had been there with me. As it was, I got Liz for a couple of hours but none of the others made it this year. We are already talking of our own retreat in years to come with our daughters and the tradition has spawned a couple of Buchert Beauties retreats with my sister-in-laws--another tradition I would love to see take flight.

Family is precious. I know I've said before that every family seems like its own particular brand of train wreck, and that might be true.

But it is a precious mess nevertheless.

My mother's cousin, Fern, holding baby Eden, 1999. (Nursing babies are allowed.)

Sister Susan, moi, and baby Daffodil holding a token game, 2005.

Me in my pajamas with my mom, aunt Anabel & Grandma. 2001

The Winget Matriarchs: Vera, Lona, Glenda, Betty Jo, Wanda. 2003 (Thanks for the photo Liz!)

And finally, the only picture I have of a Buchert Beauties retreat:

2002

What we've been up to this summer: Poky

2010-08-23T19:58:00.005-07:00

Okay, at the rate I'm going it will take me all Fall to wrap up our summer activities. I am going to try to speed things up now that summer is officially over in our house and the gallivanting has to stop.

Towards the end of June I headed north for a last jaunt to Poky before the Smiths moved south. It was a peaceful drive: a book on tape and lots of open Western country after Brigham City. Highlights from this mini trip for me included a small snooze on the garden bench outside taking in the mountain air and a faint breeze; trying to figure out how naked Finn got into the fenced garden/chicken area; Eden and Soren extracting a squirrel's nest and poking through it a bit trying to figure out how it is constructed; a walk up to the Gibson Jack trail; Lava Hot Springs summer style (i.e., enjoying the outdoor swimming pool with gigantic diving platforms, slides that arch across the road, and little toddler-friendly slides that our little ones used again and again).

We will miss our Poky outings. In honor of the Idaho outpost and since I didn't take any photos on this last jaunt, here are some photos from other fun trips:

Our very favorite thing about Poky?

The Smiths.

We are thrilled to have them closer so the good times continue.

What we've been up to this summer: the garden

2010-08-08T15:38:00.003-07:00

The early summer found us working on the garden and other outside projects. Our generous neighbors let us share some space out front between our houses for a communal garden plot. Why out front? Because three of the largest trees in the neighborhood happen to roost in our backyard, shading all possible more-private plots and because I fell in love with a gardening vision espoused by Fritz Haeg and Michael Pollan. Last year I dug up some of the lawn here on our side for a few tomatoes and peppers and then expanded last fall by digging, shovel-full by shovel-full, the rest of that non-productive grass out.

In May we hauled in several truckloads of compost and tilled it in. (I unwittingly poked a hole in the transmission of our other neighbors' tiller in the process upping the garden investment by another $300. Ugh.) We laid down plywood paths and weed barrier and planted some high hopes and sorry looking tomato plants. After all that work, this is what our space looked like:

However, the work paid off in some ways I hadn't anticipated. Those high hopes were stirring underground at least because I found myself out there every morning checking on things: looking for signs of sprouting seeds, plucking out weeds and other unwanteds like the ever-advancing forest of volunteer pumpkins. Every other week or so I would give some of the plants a boost when I was watering my flowers with miracle grow. Martin opines that the initial work may have started a "virtuous cycle", the rewards motivating us to spend yet more time/work on it. If it is a virtuous cycle we'll see how long it lasts....

We are beginning to harvest a few things here and there now: a couple of cucumbers, a few tomatoes, spinach, chard and the occasional beet greens for smoothies. And oh yeah, a zucchini bat has already been converted to zucchini bread.

We won't make a return on monetary investment this year no matter how much produce we produce. But there are other intangible benefits too: pleasure in watching plants grow, feeling more connected to our plot of ground here and our food source, sharing both of these pleasures with our children. Even the work is satisfying. I suppose we are reaping more fruits than those shown here:

I still aspire to full-frontal gardening. Hopefully (see? those keep multiplying too), this represents just the first step in a series of such conversions.

What we've been up to this summer: Lagoon

2010-08-04T16:05:00.005-07:00

I know I have been essentially incommunicado this summer; it has been a whirlwind. So for the next few posts I'd like to highlight a few of the summer's adventures (and maybe remind myself where the time's gone).

We have the opportunity through my mom's work to go to Lagoon every June. Amusement parks are sort of their own animal. I hadn't ever taken my kids there until this event cropped up a few years ago. I remember the first time we went I asked Ene if she wanted to go with us and she basically said over her dead body. Okay, not quite that strong but she can't stand places like that.

I can see why.

It's crowded. It's hot. It seems to be teeming with people who could have come out of Ray Bradbury's novel "Something Wicked this way Comes", in other words, creepy adults and adolescents with raging hormones who can't keep their hands off each other (aside: I admit to having been on a couple adolescent dates to Lagoon myself but not the groping variety). Oh yeah, and some families like us.

Because guess what? My kids love it and look forward to it every year now.

There is, of course, a range of ability and interest when it comes to the rides. We go with cousins and Tiger leads the pack--she will ride anything, the more daring the better, and the non-stomach-lurching rides are hardly worth her time (as evidenced by her completely bored expression when she goes along).

Soren is interested in trying some rides of the Tiger variety so they split off. This year he braved the Wild Mouse and the Bat for roller coasters and campaigned for repeat visits to the bumper cars.

Eden, on the other hand, was trying this year to see if she stil fit under the height limit to ride the kiddie rides. I wish I had a picture of her bending back like she's trying to stoop under a low shower head to see how her head matched up with the bold red limit line. She will raise her arms on the kiddie roller coaster (the only one she'll try) or baby swings. :) She refuses to try anything remotely resembling a stomach lurcher.

Daffodil is nervous but open to trying to new things. She loved the bumper cars, the swings, the little boats, and all other rides she attempted.

June is a dare devil and laughs hysterically at the dropping Ladybug Bop and even ventured on the whirring Chinese dragon that had me slightly nervous for a second.

Anna loves riding the kiddie rides as long as she doesn't get sprayed with water or they don't go too fast. She usually ends up stranded on at least one ride that she screams through the duration of. Last year it was the swings, this year Bulgy the Whale. I have to stand by and ruefully laugh and try to encourage her when she rolls around until its over.

Last year Martin met us after work and we broke away to go on one roller coaster together (the old rickety white one). I love roller coasters; Martin says he doesn't. Part of me is suspicious that this is just his insistent iconoclasm raising its head, but maybe not. He is generally prone to queasiness and I suppose certain physical sensations are just not pleasant for everyone. BUT, he smiled and laughed all through our ride together. At the very least it is therapeutic to do something together that we've never done before.

New territory.

This year Nana bailed early, the dramamine didn't kick in soon enough and just observing made her sick.

Time with Susan is always good for some deep laughs.

In short: a good time was had by most.

Care to share your take on amusement parks? Do you do them? How do you do them? (adrenaline junkie, people watcher, gamer, head between your knees to squash nausea, etc.) Do you have any particularly strong memories from an amusement park or carnival? Do share.

Cousin Visit

2010-07-29T13:42:00.007-07:00

Tiger and June came to stay with us for a couple of days this week. Here are some shots from playing rowdy on the playground with Martin and experimenting with face paint.

p.s., I am still having trouble trying to figure out the settings for these photos. Help!

The Book Thief

2010-07-29T10:39:00.002-07:00

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

For some reason, I have a hard time talking coherently about the stuff I really love. Such is the case with this book. I finished it the other night in tears and am ready to reread it again from the beginning immediately. It blends the brutal and beautiful, making the horrific facts of Nazi Germany more real for me with an imagined personal lens.

The writing itself is poetic, the sort of prose that makes your own writing better for having been immersed in its images and language. One of the reasons I love reading Annie Dillard is because I think I write better when I spend time with her; this book has the same effect though the specifics may play out differently.

The other effect it had on me was to foreground small details in my life: the food I eat, time and peace to push the girls on a swing at the park, exchanges with my tween, specific clouds and dappled shade even. All these things I take for granted, the specifics in my day-to-day living.

If you pick it up, I don't think you'll be disappointed.

View all my reviews >>

Motherhood in Pictures

2010-07-21T21:13:00.004-07:00

Talented photographer LindyLou let us be her guinea pigs the other morning for photos. You can see some of the results here. Thank you Lindy for focusing your creative eye and lens on us; we will be your subjects anytime! Is there anything a mother would rather look at than beautiful photos of her child(ren)?

And speaking of photos and motherhood, Liz recently introduced me to this site. I love the vision on this corner of the internet. I can't decide whether these photos are liberating or depressing, but I love them just the same.

Photos from the 4th

2010-07-12T15:52:00.002-07:00

Weak and Strong: body edition

2010-06-20T21:00:00.006-07:00

"And if men come until me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them." Ether 12:27

One of the things that has been occupying my time and attention these days is a renewed effort for health and nutrition. If you are one of those lucky people who don't really have body and/or weight issues, count your blessings. If you are one of those lucky people who are happy and confident regardless of shape or size, count them again. As for me, I confess: I have a sugar addiction (and a host of other issues which may or may not be related).

As part of the current energy poured into trying to make the habitual conscious again, I have been exploring the ideas of this lady and this lady. Both of these women have managed to make what used to be weaknesses for them become strengths. I don't necessarily subscribe to the ideas/practices of either lock-stock-and-barrel, though I do think I've gained something from both. But in trying to form new habits I've been wondering if having weaknesses become strengths means becoming kind of fanatical, i.e., does being really strong in some area by definition move you beyond the normal/average range in the sprectrum? (And what is normal or average anyway?) If I manage to kick my vicious sweet tooth, will I become a sort of obsessed health-nut chomping away at a new bit?

I'm having a hard time expressing this. Probably, as with most things, it isn't either/or; I just tend to extremes. Mixed in with these thoughts I also have lines from William James running through my head, things like "make [your] nervous system [your] ally instead of [your] enemy", and "seize the very first possible opportunity to act on every resolution you make." I give myself pep-talks during my morning exercise and then manage, many days, to self-sabotage by mid-afternoon. James' emphasis on physical reinforcement of mental resolutions makes sense to me. Here's that quote in full:

"Seize the very first possible opportunity to act on every resolution you make, and on every emotional prompting you may experience in the direction of the habits you aspire to gain. It is not in the moment of their forming, but in the moment of their producing motor effects, that resolves and aspirations communicate the new "set" to the brain. ... No matter how full a reservoir of maxims one may possess, and no matter how good one's sentiments may be, if one ha[s] not taken advantage of every concrete opportunity to act, one's character may remain entirely unaffected for the better. ... A tendency to act only becomes effectively ingrained in us in proportion to the uninterrupted frequency with which the actions actually occur, and the brain "grows" to their use." (from Psychological Foundations)

James also points out that habits are actions or sequences of actions that are automatic, i.e., not attended to: "habit diminishes the conscious attention with which our acts are performed". He says that attention and effort are "two names for the same psychic fact". It seems obvious once he says it, but I never connected the two quite that way before. The equation of attention and effort suddenly makes clear why changing habits is so hard: it means dredging up for conscious scrutiny things we are used to not thinking about . . . in other words, exhausting work!

Do you know what else is exhausting for me? Patience. I want to be immediately rewarded with results for my semi-sabotaged efforts.

Other related thoughts:
Sometimes weaknesses and strengths seem to lie on opposite ends of a continuum/spectrum; sometimes they seem to be two sides of the same "coin" or characteristic. How would you classify this set of weaknesses/strengths?

There is beauty in form and beauty in function; I can work to greater appreciate both.

I can work to act instead of be acted upon, and be glad for the choice.

Faith, hope and charity. These three apply to so many situations.

My table is going private

2010-06-18T06:00:00.004-07:00

I don't know if any of you read the recipes on Moondog Eats, but I am now making that blog private since I glean recipes from different cookbooks, etc. which are copyrighted. If you want an invitation to read it, email me.

Minutes before the latest cut

2010-06-09T19:25:00.001-07:00

Sunday afternoon adventures

2010-06-06T19:58:00.004-07:00

To get out of the house this evening we went on a walk/hike (the category is debatable) in Big Cottonwood canyon. Here's Anna sporting Daffodil's shades:

The river was a raging torrent so there was another debate over whether or not to allow wading. In the end we found a calmer spot on the edge where the river flattened out a little and dipped some toes. Eden counted to 5 seconds and then withdrew, kicking her feet to recover:

We came home to the "spoor" (Martin's description) of visitors: someone had planted a mystery shrub in the corner of our lawn:

I thought at first my Dad had done it since there was other evidence that he had stopped by (D's pants left in Provo and treats), but a phone call cleared him. We couldn't think who else would have gifted us so. I thought maybe one of the people Martin roped into helping him plant some fruit trees this week put it there, either in jest or genuine vegetative encouragement. Tonight amid the lightning, rumbling thunder, and heavy, intermittent raindrops, our neighbors came clean. Thank you Sprouls! Mystery shrub provenance discovered. And here's a shot of our new little trees:

One last detail from today. During our late supper this evening Soren accused Daffodil of etiquette hypocrisy. He usually sits across from her at the table and lately we can't get through a meal without him complaining about Daffodil's table manners. I have not noticed anything thoroughly objectionable, though none of them are what you might call refined eaters at this point. Maybe I'm just oblivious. Soren, in any case, finds her a repeat offender. This was, however, the first time I've heard the outraged title of "hypocrite!" attached to an open mouth (and I don't mean gossip).

p.s., I love a good rainbow (rare for Utah, no Manoa valley here!) and a good storm even more. Tonight we got both along with beautiful diffused light. We failed to capture any of these delights on film.

p.p.s., I can't seem to avoid the parenthetical (case in point).

Dancing Daphne

2010-05-23T21:08:00.005-07:00

Dance Recital 2010

Not pictured: costume maracas

There was a debate in our house around this costume; do you think it is hoochy? One of us said yes, the other no. Is it typical dance-wear (meant to have a Spanish twist for the dance numbers) or semi-racy (or is that just the colors?)?

Regardless of this issue, we sure love this dancer. Isn't she cute?

For those who wanted pictures

2010-05-14T15:25:00.005-07:00

We've made a few changes in the decor around here. Here is the red wall which I have mixed feelings about:

Oh yep, you might have noticed that we got a different couch. I regret ever having said something about the quest for the perfect couch, as I'm convinced perfection doesn't exist-- especially if different styles flirt with you. However, at the end of this round of searching, I'm tempted to write an anthropological study from the couch-eye's view. Check the listings in your local classified ads and I'm sure you'll understand what I mean.

And speaking of classified ads, I'm super pleased with this large, 100% wool rug I picked up on ksl.com for unbelievably cheap. I've always loved poppies:

And here's the other rug we recently acquired, Anthropologie pink roses:

I surprised myself.

I love it when that happens.

Details from today

2010-05-12T20:09:00.002-07:00

step-ups and complaining legs
broccoli in my smoothie
Nick: "I don't drink mud"
lobelia plantings, mint and ivy transplants
conditionals and contrapositives
listening to a broken heart at the sewing machine
new combinations
laying plans for my work and the soil
tiny puppies, stuffed momma
herb-roasted vegetables, cracker bread, stilton with coconut and ginger
virtual scrabble

Bad Hair Day

2010-05-03T20:52:00.006-07:00

It's been a bad hair day and if you know anything about bad hair days, they signify more things out of whack than some uncooperative locks. I don't know if it is the spinning mental wheels that send the hairs running from the scalp or if the unsightly reflections in the mirror churn the inner wheels; either way it's unsettling.

Still it was not without bright spots.

The pelicans are back on the river. I picked up 40 fortune cookies for Eden to hand out during her oral report on China and we enjoyed fortunes later on in the afternoon/evening. I grilled (aka "charred", as this is the only real grilling technique I manage) for dinner. We salvaged what threatened to be a bad evening with some croquet on the lawn.

And in the middle there somewhere I finished the haircut that Anna started herself:

I don't know what I'm doing trying to grow my hair out anyway; I'm a short-hair kind of girl.

p.s. And speaking of hair, check out Martin's mop. I think his inner thespian is showing here: