Happy Thursday

Today has been a Happy day, brought about by the annoyingly productive week I've had at home, while on Spring Break, not at all doing Spring Break things.

I had a to-do list and went through it methodically, knowing that if I stayed to my schedule, by Thursday, today, I'd have Nothing Required of Me To Do. And I did stay to it. And today, having Nothing Required of Me To Do, meant a free, relaxing, day which I filled with nonsensical things like buying new flip flops, hanging out on the circle's lawn with other 'hood peeps talking about being happy, the state of happiness, Buddhism, and funny documentaries not related to Buddhism or happiness at all.

Today was quite relaxing.

As I type this, for instance, I'm so relaxed, that I find my husband's cat Sir Cogsley's, fascination with the clicking of the keyboard and the cursor moving on the screen  amusing, so amusing that I'm not even bothered by the fact his curiosity means he sat his big fluffy butt right in front of the computer screen and I can't really see what I'm typing, unless I cock my head to the right and peer around his extraordinarily long whiskers. 

I managed to write a paltry 852 or so words today, which is better than Monday's paltry 502 or so words. This is fine, it's always like this for me at the beginning of a story or book. The first week or two into it drags ridiculously, and suddenly, about three weeks in, the story really just takes off, and I can write for much longer, mindful, of course, that I only have limited time to write. Gone, for now, are the days when I could write for three or four hours at a stint and not need to be up til midnight to accomplish it. I do dream though! The best writing advice I ever got, and will ever give, is the only thing required of a writer to write, to truly be successful, is to show up at the page. That's it. Show up at the page. Write. Go from there. Once you show up to the page, and put words on it, the story begins to unfold, and, if you know what it is the story means to accomplish,  it will write itself.

I did accomplish something on my Nothing Required of Me To Do day, though. I accomplished getting instruments for Turbo and Bear, and lessons. All in under 40 minutes. See how ridiculously efficient I can be?

I'd already scoped out the instruments, and knew that Turbo was getting an acoustic guitar. I knew, also, that Bear would most likely gravitate to drums, which he did, despite his going on randomly about the violin. I just don't think a violin is a good instrument for a kid who wants to be in a rock-n-roll band. He really wanted the African-style drums, but I told him to start with the normal snare drum, and then if he's still interested in three to six months, we'll pick up the other style drum. We rented his drums, but bought the guitar. Drums are... priccceeeyyyy. He then spent most of the time playing the xylophone bit of the drum kit. Hilarious.

We had our first gorgeous spring day today, well, okay, second. April is a month of wacky weather here. We'll have gorgeous days that tease you into thinking the days of warmth are here to stay, followed by cold rainy days, and occasionally, a snow storm. April. Such a tease.

Ah writing. I find the more I write, then the more I write. How... something! 

What I'd write in a letter to my sister (and aunt) if we all still wrote letters

This eye belongs to a teenager. I rarely see this eye. It's usually rolled into the back of her head when I'm speaking to her. It's blue, I think I'd forgotten that.







Dear (Sister), (Aunt)

How is life on the other side of the Oregon Trail? Raining still? Has your Hans eaten any more socks, headbands or swim shorts? Is your son learning to ignore the rain? Has he seen the sun yet? (Okay, to be fair that was low, of course the sun comes out in Oregon, I believe, in September?)

For my aunt, I'd write: 

How is life Back East? Is it snowing still? Did everyone wear cute spring dresses under big burly winter coats and lacey, brimmed spring hats under umbrellas Easter Sunday? Then I'd ask about Daughter, and see if she had begun to exhibit any pre-teen like qualities such as, shopping preferences, eye-rolling to mom and sleeping in late.

No proper letter is without a weather report:

Colorado is below-normal levels of precipitation. We have sunshine, plenty of it, but none of the snows or rains we so needed. We'll probably be on fire this summer again. I don't believe you've ever tasted fire and ash. Last year, there were a few days when that was what our air tasted like. We could see the smoke and haze in the air, even if we couldn't see the flames. The taste burned our throats. It was a constant reminder, as you walked around accomplishing your daily day to day life, that not far off, forests were burning.  It was surreal sometimes, and sad, but an act of nature, cleaning up and preparing for new growth. But of course, we need snow and rain for that. The children (must point out how they fared and suffered)  had to stay indoors for a couple of days at summer camp last year, and I couldn't run or swim (Poor me!) because of the air quality. I hope we don't have so many fires this year, but with the dryness of this year's winter, I'm not optimistic.

Moving on to the lovely children. All letters discuss children:

The kids are doing mostly well. Teenagers are just difficult, and even though she knows everything and I don't know anything, somehow, somehow she can't figure out how to do the laundry properly. She's currently without any sort of electronics whatsoever - we're hoping it's a positive motivator to actually clean her room and do  her schoolwork. She is quite beautiful, however, and has mastered styling ridiculously long, thick hair, and eye make up, something none of us have ever fully achieved successfully: the cat eye look.

Note in this next paragraph how I am clearly a fan of music. Clearly, I'm a believer in music education, and by default, the arts. In your mind, I'm wearing a breezy skirt and eyelet cap-sleeved shirt sitting under a tree by a creek listening to nature. I'm not, but after I post this, I'm going to shop for breezy skirts and eyelet cap-sleeved shirts.

I'm taking each of the boys to the music store on Main. There's two music stores on Main right next to each other. I'm taking Turbo to the guitar store so he can pick up a classical guitar and play around, to see if that's the instrument he wishes to learn. The next day, I'm taking Bear to the music store with a greater variety of instruments. He has expressed interest in a Flute, Drums, a French Horn and a Tuba. I'm hoping he chooses Drums or Flute. Why I'm hoping for drums, I'm unsure.

I'm having a nice break from work this week, though mostly I'm doing a lot of little odds and ends that need to get done around the house. Steam clean carpets anyone? Anyone? Well, it's got to be done.

My writing's going well, though no one will see or hear of any of it for at least three months. I'm a big fan now of keeping my stories between my head and the page. It's too easy to 'write' the book in conversation.

That's all that's going on here in Colorado.

Hope your having a great spring in (Oregon) (New Hampshire),

All the best,

La La

Spring Break, Day 2

I have this little list of things I want to accomplish over spring break.

Thing 1: Door for daughter's room.
Accomplished - picking it up tomorrow, and some new hinges.
Installation - Husbear.

Thing 2: Steam clean carpets and mop floors.
HOW EXCITING! This is the biggest plan for Spring Break.
Yeah, I know how to live it up.

Thing 3: Empty out boys room and reorganize it. Buy blinds for their room. They knocked their curtains down, again, and for good. /sigh /boys.

Thing 4: Fill up Bear's bike tires.

See, this is my spring break.

It's not as much of a break as I would like, and not nearly as springy out as I would hope, but I leave my afternoons and evenings open, so it's been very relaxing. It's Day 2, but the weather just is rainy. Yesterday, it was chilly. Certainly not, get on a bike and go on a ride weather. Or, go strolling about aimlessly with your friends weather.  Tomorrow's supposed to get nice, so I'll get everything done early. Then I'll go on a run! Then, I"ll hang outside with the kids!

Thursday and Friday are my  play days. I'm determined to have Thing 2 and 3 done by Thursday/Friday. I'll fill up Bear's tires when ti's gorgeous out.

I'm publishing this post, but I'm not tweeting it. It's more a dreary to do list than a blog.

Ah well.

Time to write!

When Irish eyes are smiling

Then it usually means they're crying, that's what my mom used to say. The Irish are really happy, but really, they're really really sad, and their happiness is born from accepting that they're all very sad. I have a childhood school friend who, if she's reading this, will laugh at me.

But of course she would. She's Irish.

My mom loved being Irish, and everything about Ireland and the Irish. I think she resonated more with that side of her than any other. Her maiden name was Fair, I suppose that helped.

She used to sing tons of Irish songs to us all, I only remember the main lines... my favorite, aside from Danny Boy, was the one about... something about someone dropping something down stairs... yah, I know, I should have paid more attention. But the old classics were all there. You take the high road... etc

Today, normally, we'd have boiled cabbage and corn beef. I say boiled cabbage, but I think it was boiled corned beef, too, I have distinctive memories of everything being boiled in a big pot together, however, I may not be remembering correctly. Boiled corned beef doesn't sound appetizing. I may be misremembering.

I tossed around the notion multiple times yesterday and today of having Corned Beef and Cabbage. It was always important to my mother to celebrate the small holidays, as well as the big, to remember cultures, to break up the seasons, to just have fun... but I don't recall really enjoying corned beef and cabbage. Not really. I even tried some at a local Irish pub (our one and only local Irish pub, mind you) and... mmm... not so much.

My sister has dodged this by deciding to make 'Irish Stew' which remarkably resembles many other non-Irish stews, but hey, she's making an effort. I bet she's even wearing green.

The one thing I do miss though, are the St. Patrick Day festivities. We don't have a small-town parade with streets lined with people drinking green shakes from McDonalds, or a fun day of you know, Irish fun stuff...

Nope, the only thing we got going on round these parts is that the local Irish Pub will probably be packed, and my son is wearing a green shirt. He went out of his way to find one, because it's St. Patrick's Day -- there be Irish in that boy, I do swear.

Not his brother, though, he's not even wearing a shirt yet and will, at some point today, ask me what day it is... as in.. day of the week... like is it Saturday or Sunday?....

So wherever you be in the land, Happy St. Patrick's Day!

p.s. if you haven't heard Cmdr. Hadfield sing Danny Boy from space, you're missing out.

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.

Flowers in January

I love fresh flowers.
I used to buy myself fresh flowers as a treat, just because.

They're pretty, they brighten every room, and they are, well, cheery.

Flowers are Cheery!

After the break, a friend who was watching my cats offered to help me completely gut my house of all excess clutter -- so that my life, that of a mom with three kids, before we get all judgey and wonder why a friend would feel such a strong desire to help clean out a house... how messy could it be! -- and for the price of some still-owed dinners, spent a few weekends (and a few more to come, yay!) helping me gut and purge.

Purged: I have made four or five trips to Good Will since returning from Oregon after Christmas. Four or five trips where my truck has been filled with donations. Filled, to overflowing. Filled to the point of 'okay, remember, no backing up because you can't see out the back window.'

Gutted: Lets just say no one has a need for Tumeric, expiration date 2007, a dusty Pampered Chef gingerbread train mold from pre-2000 and a bag of flax, circa 2006.

The entire first level of my house is clutter free. Everything has a place. There's room. My cabinets, oh the room!

So, being thrilled (who wouldn't be) at how not cluttered/messy/crazy my living areas appeared to be, I've introduced flowers.


At first, the flowers were just on the table, but then I realized, they are even cheerier, and make the room and spaces even brighter, when they are spread out a bit.

Just a bit of color

The downstairs sewing/working desk.The counter.

My biggest motivation to finish the upstairs is the smallest of reasons.

I want to add flowers upstairs, too.

It's the smallest things that bring the greatest moments. And just looking at the flowers makes me feel a bit better, a bit cheerier.

Yes, even the bathroom

Saturday night, with the cats

It's been a full week practically since I rambled!

It's been a crazy week. People are crazy, I'm thermonuclear, apparently, (alas, every day, I work to be the river. Rivveeer, I'm a river...)

I'd tell you all about how much fun I'm having with my fat cat on my lap and the other cat all leaned up against me, because that's exciting, being all cuddled up on the couch with the cats. I mean, what else would you rather be doing?

This is my weekend.

It's a bit sad, right?

That's my Saturday night. I've got Walking Dead on, because it's kinda addicting, and some tea, because I'm seriously coming down with a cold from the IT guy who came to work with the plague on a day when our co-workers were acting like crazed asylum inmates, so despite his plagueness, we locked ourselves in our shared-office.  Umm, or perhaps we were the crazed asylum inmates locked in... either way, I can feel this cold coming.

Happily, my cats are keeping me warm, because it's January.

January.

Still.

Can't. Take. It. Need. Spring.

Flowers!

I'll buy flowers!

And, sadly, I'm so tired, because of this cold thing that's coming, I can't even talk about all the excitement about getting rid of six years of boxes with the help of my friends. Six years of boxes... take up a lot of room. Okay, they were empty, but there were a lot, and we had to break them down, and we took them to the recycling place. It was kinda liberating. I dislike having so much clutter, so much 'stuff.' I'm so excited that I've de-cluttered and tossed so much 'excess' out. I'm excited to keep going. Except tonight.

Tonight, not so much.

Tonight, I'm on the couch with cats drinking tea, cuz it's Saturday night.

It was all going well... until

The garbage disposal stopped disposing.

The beans simmering on the ovens had no matching hot dogs.

The milk for the cereal, which replaced the not-hot-dogs-and-beans ran out.

Everyone wanted eggs when I just wanted to eat my beans-on-toast-with eggs.

The game on the computer crashed.

There weren't enough blankets and the bed wasn't fluffy enough... what do you mean, the bed wasn't fluffy enough, you're a nine year old boy!

The overtired boy who wanted to sleep alone left only to have the other overtired boy who never wants to sleep alone follow him.

At least the teenage girl fixed the garbage disposal and did her homework!

And, and at least I wasn't Edith, on Downton Abbey, to be left at the altar, /omgiosh.

So it was every one for themselves and in the end, in the end, the teen girl chilled and didn't fight with the boys, and the boys did what all little boys do, even little boys who are nine years old and big boys do, they crawled into mom's bed.

And I, the mom,  am doing what all moms do, giving up on any notion of an actual good night's sleep!

Sometimes... sometimes the little boys win.

Most Boring Post Ever

This will be a boring post.

Do not read if you expect or desire to be entertained.

I've successfully spent gift card money finally!

I didn't want to purchase anything with you know, my money, and I didn't want to spend any of the gift cards I had until after I'd fully purged my closet, and ensured I didn't gain 20 pounds over the holiday!

Success! But I've seen a preview of spring fashion, and I'm pastel-erized. Pastels. All. Pastels. How horrifying! I dislike pastels. Especially springs' favorite new shade, 'mint-doesn't-look-good-on-anyone-but-we-keep-bringing-it-back.'

It's been a quiet Saturday, there may have been a nap.

A three hour nap.

It happens. We Skyped with Husbear, which always cheers the kiddos up, and I'm doing my best to not look at Oxfords online, since I have no more gift cards and a great weakness for Oxford-style shoes and boots. Now that I own a pair of awesomely epic boots, my sights are turning to Oxfords, despite the no-budget-for-Oxfords thing.

Le Sigh.

Time for some Rick Grimes, because nothing makes a Saturday night like a good Zombie fest.

Rick Grimes zombie tests are seldom boring, unlike my posts, which oftentimes are.

G'Night.

Huszombieland Day 8

Don't know what happened to the past few days - it all seemed to flow into one long day.

It was Tuesday, now it's Friday night.

All sorts of High School drama unfolded at Drama Girl's school - a threat, and it was all under control but then they cancelled school and some kid is going to have his life seriously ruined once they find him.

Was a zombie at work, seems to have worked out well. There isn't enough coffee on some days!
But then Husbear, the moment I opened my personal computer at work, skyped in! He had a bottle of wine and was relaxing in his hotel room.

I was four hours of work left to go at 3:30 on a Friday night with children at home waiting to be fed and entertained, and he's reposeful with wine and no children and a wine trip tomorrow!

.....ARGH. Days like this, I want to join the Zombies.

Or at least go hang with Rick Grimes...

 It's been exactly one week.

Two more to go...

Huszombieland Day 5

The cats made their first attempt last night. On the stairs. Barely escaped. The white fur of the young Cogs gleamed in the moonlight and gave them away. Still haven't located Queen Ninja. She is far more clever than the rest.

Dry shampoo not the miracle elixir promised to so many... hair is limp, lifeless and may drown in its oiliness. Will see what effect it has on my abilities to survive the day.  Drank extra-strong brew to compensate. How long can I live on extended dosages of dark brewed coffee?

The boys are dressed and ready to go. Not sure what they're up to, can't get to the bottom of their maniacal scheming... they are being so good, but, the question lingers... why? Why now, when never before?

One of them is singing, I can hear it, a happy, joyful voice - it's eerie.

Huszombieland: all is calm

Husbear is off for three weeks to another country where there's great cheese, wine and scarves. Yes, France.

I'm home with the horde. It's like I've entered an apocalyptic wasteland where my only chance of survival is to give up and turn into a zombie. 

Wait, that may have been last week.

Day 1, a Friday, and this is important to note, a non-school day:  went like this:

Daddy gets on plane. Same ole same ole.
Mommy distracts everyone with rad viewing of Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark. Pizza and soda for all!

Day 2: Weekend

K kids, go play video games.
All day.
Victory! Go parenting!

Day 3: Weekend

Grocery shopped, cooked a dinner and successfully achieved bath time. 
I'm awesome at this mom thing. I rock.

Day 4: 

Monday.
We know weekends are easy. Open the door, and let the kids go. Parenting lite. But this is serious. This is a school day in January with no sign of vacation until Martin Luther King Day.

Okay, lets keep it calm, peeps. Lets not do anything crazy. Lets pretend everything is normal, nothing has changed, and Daddy's home, he's just upstairs on his computer, invisible.

/whistle.

Get Drama Girl up and out door on time, make grumbly noises at the amount of sugar teen girl dumps in her coffee.
Get boys up.
Shower. (A win for all!)
Boys are ready and out door and at school on time...
Look around for signs of alternate universes colliding.. nope, it's really true.
Day goes by. Smoothly.

As of right now, Dinner is simmering on the stove waiting on rice, the boys are calm and everything is mellow. All is calm and quiet.
.....

Day 4 - smooth sailing... too smooth, too quiet...
I shudder for the days to come...

But, as a lovely angel said, appearing in front of me on my way out the door after work -- be calm, for maybe, maybe it will be smooth sailing, and will be calm. For. Three. Whole. Weeks. 

No one will meltdown. The routines of waking, school, homework, dinner and bed will be maintained in an orderly, routine, non-yelly, non-shouty fashion.

All will be calm. All will be bright....

January the 1st, of the Year 2013

The year is starting off mellow, and that's always a good sign. No need to jump right into change, turmoil, drama, etc etc. I finished up Project Life (that photo album/journaling thing) for the year, and am continuing with it, since it's such an easy way to manage well, memories.

I'm going to focus on the every day moments this time, and see how that works! I love photographing random moments that would normally pass, where no one's posing, the face and cheesy grin isn't the center of the picture, and there's no 'event,' just... life. I am not doing 'resolutions' since they're silly. I am instead refocusing. November through December is always a rough time for my routine, because I've got birthdays right before Turkey Week, right before the holidays.

 I look forward to January as a 'chill' month, where mostly I hibernate a bit, get in shape for spring running, gardening, and outdoorsing, as I like to refer to it, and dreaming, oh the dreaming in January of the months of March, April and May. How I love to dream of spring! I'll be doing that shortly! 

This year, you'll (my invisible readers, my four friends-who-read-my-blog, and the random family member that logs in to check the blog) see a lot of comments on my writing, my 'the artist's' way'ing, running and exercising and random pics of every day moments.

 I'm looking forward to 2013, and the months ahead. Though it's a new year, it feels like a continuation of the best of 2012.

 Happy New Year - this year, live as well as you can, laugh often, mind less and, above all, most importantly of all, do carry on.

Happy 2013!

It's hard to believe that another year has passed, only it's not, really.

It's even less harder to believe that my last post was Nov. 21.

Where does time go?

It just flies....

This Christmas we traveled to Oregon to see my sister and her husband, and Ty, lovely, hilarious, chatty, Ty.

I think the boys might have been a bit much for him, but he was a true sport!

Here are the pics from the trip!

On any given Wednesday

I was going to take the boys on a hike today to Button Rock, but, um, I slept through the alarm.

I love hiking in the morning, when everyone has energy. We postponed it til Saturday or Sunday, depending. Probably Saturday.

Anyone wanna come?

Today, I'm going to finish my coffee, and escape to a coffee shop to write.

Yep. I'm livin' the dream today! In an ideal world, that would be my every day ha, but hey, what can one do?

I'm lucky enough to have a job this year that lets me have time off.

I feel every blog post should have a photo, something that captures and inspires. So here you are:

My morning inspiration:

So I've been doing the creative journal, and have discovered that writing three pages daily helps me write later, because I think, oh, man, I wrote three pages, but none of the words are toward my stories (I have a short story and a novel I'm working on at the moment). So then I have to carve out time to write words toward my stories. I can't stand the thought of having written, but not having any of the words progress. Whatever works!

My artist hour is going to involve finally sewing the binding. Husbear wants his quilt, as does my sister. She doesn't have a name in the blog. I'll have to name her so I can continue writing about her.

Lets call her "Wispy Rain Mist" because she's living in Portland, Or.

So Wispy Rain Mist has been bugging me about her quilt that I'm making. I doubt I'll finish it by Christmas, but I'm going to try to get both her top and Husbear's top done by then.

It really depends on how good I am at managing my me-time.

**Someone, please help me find some me-time.

Oh, and some good book pics:

Raising Happiness - great book, I'll have to write about our first family meeting and failed custard tart dessert maybe... maybe not.

City of Bone, Angels, Glass, CatNip... whatever, I made it through the first two and a half before being annoyed by 17 year olds that are really 60 year olds in 17 year old bodies. Think I may be done with YA for a while. BUT, they are good reads if you're not yet jaded, cynical and raising a teenager the same age as the heroes and heroines because then you'd know how ridiculously fantastical the stories are.

p.s. This post is dedicated to Awesome Aunt, who tells me that she reads my writing, and thinks I'm funny.

Pre-Thanksgiving No-Plans

This week, as in you know, the first day and a morning of the week, we haven't done much. Mostly, I'm taking time to enjoy the not-work I'm at, catch up on some writing, hang with the family and prepare for Turkey Day and the post-turkey-day-black-friday morning.

These shots were taken on Sunday. I totally adore them.

This was taken on a Sunday bike ride with my friend. We had a crazy day of biking and coffee and fun. Turbo loves his bike rides and the coffee shop.
In case there isn't anyone who doesn't know, this guy is a quirky fellow. I took some candid shots while we were conversing at Red Frog. Eight is a very serious age. And giant cookies are very important.

If you're wondering where Bear is, well, once we get Bear on a bike, we can enjoy his company at Red Frog. In the meantime, I'm planning a nice hike with the kids tomorrow, and we'll see some candid Bear shots.

Colorado Fall

This is where I run, bike, and live.

It's so gorgeous!
I didn't have to drive anywhere for any of it. It's just, where I am...

Beauty in the every day places should be appreciated every day.

Upper left, part of my running trail. Upper right, a resting point on my bike trip.
Bottom picture, view of the briddge, part of our bike path.