The day I don't write

Really, I should know by now.

I have this lovely routine of writing in my journal every morning. It helps get the junk out of my head, sets me up for the day, and helps me stay in the present.

I missed today.

Now it's 11 p.m., I need to be wide awake and up and at em and early tomorrow, but instead I'm writing on my blog, because the junk in my head from this morning saturated with junk in my head from this afternoon.

Oh the thinking about work, the thinking about this, that, the other thing, all the things that don't matter. The things that will be forgotten, the things that won't be, the things I did, the things I didn't do, the things I may have not done quite right, things things things... in my mind.

So I'm trying to regain a sense of presence, of moment.

All I can come up with so far is I'm annoyed that I'm letting things get to me, knowing full well those things are small, petty and shall pass, as most things do. I'm annoyed I didn't write in my journal. I have a goal with that journal, a destination, a journey!

So how to get rid of the things roaming in my head, to stay in the present?

Lets see.

My Mermaid teal colored nails are just long enough now that most of my typing is by nail rather than fingertip. They look cool,  because they are polished this sea-green color apparently found in Mermaid's tears, however, it's exceptionally impractical, and annoying, so clearly, I am not a person who enjoys long nails. I don't even enjoy the sound. I prefer the sound of actual finger pads on keys rather than nails. There is a subtle difference! It's in the strike. The strike of a nail is harder. This matters people, this matters. I shall be visiting my local nail salon to rectify the matter this weekend, I hope.

That is my moment, my present. My daughter is upstairs not in bed, but cleaning her room, in hopes of being able to spend some of her time off with this boy that lingers outside our house with her in the afternoon, after school. Hmmm......

I hear the sounds of a house settling at night. A snoring husband. The ever-present noise of the heater pumping out air or heat or, when it's feeling impish, what seems like cold air, but I'm assured by the thermometer is heat. Water running through pipes from teenager who's not in bed. Cats. I don't hear cats. This is because my cats are ninjas.

All of this is my now, my present. The recessed lights in the dining area are on, but the lights here in the living room are off. It's really just one room, but whatever. Townhome living, it'll do.

I'm on my green couch, which we've had since right before the boys were born, and it's well worn! I'm wearing a shirt that may, possibly, be just as old. It's comfortable.

I'm contemplating going to bed now because this has relaxed me, and reminded me that things pass and after they pass, they are often forgotten, and that this present, this moment, matters.

So, g'night, all, sleep tight.

Teal colored nails clacking on a keyboard - who would have thought that would put me to sleep?

Last night's gift

I fell asleep to the images of the frozen creek bed from yesterday. The creek  played in my mind. I was either back at the creek, or it came to me. Seeing the creek in the shadows of the boulders and winding through the ponderosa pines (I think that's what they are) through the filter of my mind's memory was amazing. It was meditative and calming, restorative and mindful. It made the day worth the sprained knee!

Winter trails

I swore I wouldn't let winter stop me from enjoying the area I live in, and I swore I wouldn't lock myself in. I then, of course, hibernated most of December and all of January, but really, who likes January? It's my hibernation month. I can't bear most January's, and am perfectly happy hibernating. My goal for next January is to get over my dislike of January. But, today...

We went on our first trail-hike of the 2013 year! The Ann U. White Trail that was all dry and bare in September is now a frozen winter wonderland!

Smile, no matter what, smile. If we smile, eventually
she'll put the  )#*)*  camera away and leave us alone.

Yes, that is snow, and yes, the high today was 39 degrees. But really, altitude seems to make things feel 'warmer' ... except in the shade, and whatever, these are Colorado boys - if it's 20 degrees or higher, than coats are optional.

The important thing is, we have conquered Creek.

One of the shade-dappled areas.

We were the only ones on the trail, and it was kinda eerie. Very little sunlight broke through the shaded areas, which landed it a sort of meditative quality, a particularly cold one combined with the snow and ice on the ground. It was beautiful. 

Bear declared "Isn't Nature amazing?" Why yes, son, yes it is.

Face in the rock, wishing
the wind would talk less.

We heard the wind talking, not a gentle whisper but a constant, urgent conversation through the trees and creek. I always wonder what it is the wind tells the boulders and the creeks and the trees, what is it the wind says? The wind must be important, because with its urging, trees bend, creeks flow faster and rocks take notice.

The boys got to cross this creek many times, traversing the ice, jumping across rocks and leaping through the running water. Its winter coverings made it more interesting than our September visit.

Battles. Every. Single. Trail. There has
to be battles... and lava.

It was a great day out, and it's why I appreciate these days off from work and school so much - they allow for adventure and some freedom. Well, and to be honest, who doesn't appreciate days off from work and school?

I also feel I'm doing a good thing - teaching the boys to just go out and 'be' in nature. They're walking, playing, imagining, running, sliding, battling (always the battling), climbing and exploring. 

They're spontaneously curious about the dark spaces under boulders (no... no don't go in...aack), the water flowing under the ice, the sapling growing in the middle of the creek (poor planning) and the sounds - the wind, the birds.  

They're exploring, and connecting with nature, and how fortunate are they to live in a place surrounded by nature, and such nature it is! 

Here's the full photo album. 

February! Hide the Groundhog!

So it's February!

Yesterday,  I believe, is Groundhog Day.

He didn't see his shadow. I've set up mirror.

It's really silly, though.

But February! Yay! The last month before spring peeks in and tempts us in March.

The season to look out at the dead, messy, not-properly-cleared-out-for-the-winter garden and start thinking that this next spring, THIS NEXT SPRING, the garden will be magnificent - it will look like it does in your mind in February when you're planning it.

Am I planning it?

Of course I am! I'm going to attempt a cutting garden in the weed patch! I'm going to plant Turnips, because I know they'll grow!

I am going to pick one of those 'pre-planned, can't accidentally mix/match bad things' Better Homes and Gardens gardens. Maybe this year, we'll go with 'oriental spice mix' or 'strawberries and pumpkins forever' I don't know.

I'm going to be sooo much better this year!
I'm going to take that week of spring break, and prepare the gardens!

See? See why February is so amazing! It's the month of dreaming.

Oh, you thought it was the month of love.

Well, if you must. But I have to say, I'm kinda over Feb. 14. I did, however, in a nod to love, Red Roses and the traditional colors of red, pink and white that seem to permeate the first half of February,  purchase flowers of red, pink, and white for the house.

I still believe in flowers. I love flowers.

I want to live in an English Cottage with an English Cottage Garden, but I digress.

I associate February, for some bizarre reason, with brilliant blue and frost white, with a sharp red. All cold and frosty and bright.

This is the point where I should put a picture in my post. People like pictures.

I call it: Sunday Morning Mug O' Coffee on Journal 

I'm hoping to be better with my writing this month. I was beating myself up until I realized I had created a plan in my head, and had been inadvertently following it. I dedicated the entire month of January (Okay, Okay, OKAAAAYYY one of my bestest best friends and I dedicated the entire month of January to clearing out my house and cleaning it...) and I've mostly done that. I've got electronics in the basement, my daughter's room to hit today with a tornado (a slow tornado, I've got a cold and am sneezy) and only have the boys room and garage (Ha, ONLY!).

I'm really motivated for the boys' room, because we'll be getting new beds, a canvas for Ashton (to test my -  he acts like an artist, therefore he is an artist - theory) to paint whatever color he wants on it, and some cheapie desks whose destruction won't offend me.

I can't wait til the summer, we're going to paint the bedrooms! FUN! (wait...)

See, I digressed again.. the point is, I've done that. Diligently. In my head, February was the month where I'd have time to write and work on my February quilt, which I call 'inspirations of Lavender' (I just made that up) and lo and behold, I do! I DO have time! Because I'm not cleaning all the time! Weeee... so February, you can judge my writing by my blogging. When I write I blog. If I'm not blogging, and you know me, remind me.

Now, I just need to find a way to slip out to coffee shops EVERY DAY... ha ha ahh..

And yes, I've started the Artists Way, because I always write when I do it. And, also, for my friend who's like, hey, um COUGH COUGH AHEM RUNNING... yes, yes it's time to pretend it's warm enough to run.... aaaaaannnnndddd can you tell I have spring fever? The boys and I planned a February hike. And the biking, oh, the bike rides!

The thing is, February is a short month. Spring, for all intents and purposes, is tomorrow.

Buh-bye winter. Buh-bye cold. I heartily dismiss you.

**Note: When I dismiss winter, I tend to dress in spring clothes, so if it's just snowed six-10 inches, but I'm wearing canvas sneakers, some khakis and a light spring-y sweater, it's my way of pretending winter's not here. And while I'll pretend I"m not cold, I assure you, I'll be freezing.