We kicked off the Christmas season here on Friday night. Normally, I save all the activities for the week the kids get out of school, and never seem to have enough time to fit in all that we want to do. So, this year, I started a bit earlier.
The goal was to have a fun filled day and evening centered around decorating the Christmas tree. I know, most of you have had your tree up since the day after Thanksgiving. The story here is that, when I was a small kiddo, Santa used to bring the tree on Christmas Eve. He set it up, decorated it and left the presents. As we got older, it got earlier, but usually was up Christmas Eve or sometime during the week before. So, although we get ours up earlier than that, it is usually not before the second week of December.
Billy got off early around 1pm, and we got a jump start to the partay, as there were 2 kiddos home sick from school as well. Only problem was, I propped said tree up outside, and the skies opened, drenching it. Never mind! We still had pizza to make, gingerbread men to bake and decorate, and wassail to drink for kids, and of course adult beverages.
It was a great day!
What? You want pictures? Okay, but I do not take responsibility for any of them, as there was another behind the lens that day. Yes, I am actually in pictures. Thanks to my son, there is a chance my children will have photos to remember their mom before gravity and time won.
Pizza making in photos:
Roll out the dough
Toss it up to stretch it out….I look possessed here. It must be all the Dos Equis I consumed.
Now form it into a square (or circle, whatevah. I am not a geometric snob)
Ignore the prowling cheese eater.
Mandatory pizza making technique. You MUST sample the cheese. And the pepperoni. It is Italian law.
Be really generous with the cheese. Mmmmm.
Allow cheese eater into kitchen and make her day
Finished product. Sausage pizza. I used Jimmy Deans ground sausage. Mmmmmm.
My favorite. Some pepperoni actually made it on the pizza. Technically, the pizza would have 2 layers of dough to be authentic to the region of Italy we come from, but that much dough is soooo filling, and is also made with potatoes. I can! not! grate potatoes while drinking beer, so this will have to do.
Now what is it about boys that makes them decorate gingerbread men in the same way that they play with toy soldiers. We had Call of Duty gingerbread men, complete with “snow blood” and “X’s” for eyes. They even had war sound effects going.
Girls on the other hand, make sweet, alive gingerbread men. The only violence they participate in is biting off the heads of their creations.
We still have concerts, plays, sugar cookies, office parties, and the yearly Feast of the 7 Fishes on Christmas Eve, so I will post in between. Plus my mom is coming for a week. I have not seen her in over 2 years. This will be her first time to see our home by the ocean. Can! Not! Wait!
Have yourselves a Merry Little Christmas! Make your husband, kids and family your priority this season. Mend broken relationships. Give to the poor. And love with all your heart.
***And Baby Makes 6! disclaimer: Images of parents partying were not allowed. Dos Equis and red wine were on board. No driving was allowed during the making of this festive evening. Kids had wassail, and no matter how much they begged, we did not spike it. That is all.
The surf has been up here, and when that happens, our lives revolve around it. That and football. And marching band. And swim team. But mostly surfing. Surfing, surfing, surfing. My upper body has really benefited from this, and I have shed so much weight that none of my clothes fit. This is a good thing, unless you hate shopping, which I do. Lucky for me I have a friend that sent me some of the best jeans I have ever owned…..Current Elliots. I love the way they fit, but feel like I need to lock them in a safe with my best jewelry when I leave the house. I want a pair for every day of the week, but that would total more than our house payment, so Bill might gawk at that. Seriously, I used to think jeans priced that high were a rip off, but now I have seen the light and realize that well made clothing sometimes does cost big bucks. They make my $12 Forever 21 jeans look like flour sacks. I will be Forever Grateful to receive hand-me-downs from best friends with good taste in clothing.
Moving on…Let’s see….remember the 1/2 marathon? I actually raced it and finished. I think my official time was 2:54. A 75 yo woman beat me, but HEY! I finished. It was a tough run with some uphills that that were so brutal, I ended up losing a toenail from the pounding going down. My shoe just pulled that sucker up and several days later my nail bed was black and it finally fell off while surfing on Sunday. I look hawt in flip flops now. That combined with all the bruises on my body from getting hit by my board and I am smoooookin’ hawt.
Ida moved into the Gulf of Mexico early this week and the surf went off. There were days I was paddling out into surf that was over my head when I stood up. It spooked me a couple of times, especially when these monsters would roll through when I was next to the pier…..by myself (which is creepy) because there were only a handful of people out at that point (no one where I was) that were stupid enough to try and fight the white water and current. They call it Victory At Sea Conditions. Waves that were well over your head when standing up. I got worked over hard by one out to the side of the t-head at the pier, and it hit me so hard, my feet touched the bottom. I would imagine it is at least 10 feet deep there. Then I got swept down the beach by the current, so I called it a day. It certainly had me stoked though.
In kid news, Mia is riding her bike without training wheels,
All three boys had a birthday, so I am now the mother of a 15yo, 12yo, 9yo and 5yo. We change numbers around here with daylight savings time.
Also, Bill grew a moustache and changed his name to Sancho.
The End of the most random post I have ever written. Todo bueno!
I am pretty sure the best way to view the original Frankenstein movie is on the lawn of the local haunted mansion.
My kids were totally fascinated by the story….if not a bit scared of the ominous backdrop behind the screen. I am not sure what that says about us that they can sit through a black and white film and be impressed by it. The 2 other families that came from our neighborhood left. I am not sure why. I wonder if it says something for the fact that we don’t watch scary movies at our house, so my kids think pre-baby boom era horror films are freakin’ amazing. Mia felt sorry for the monster, and was saying “Why are they chasing it. It is so sad”.
I mean, really…..can a house get more creepy looking? Can you see the little blue stars? A gorgeously spooky evening was enjoyed by all.
Hope you all had a Happy All Hallows Eve and an even better Reformation Sunday! Now, GET OUT OF YOUR KIDS HALLOWEEN BAGS!!!!
When my beloved father died, my son was 35 weeks inside my womb.
There is a joy and fierce protectiveness that comes with pregnancy. You will do what you have to do to protect that precious creature inside you at all costs. You avoid anything that could cause trauma. You eat right. You take your vitamins and avoid putting anything in your mouth that could harm.
And you carefully measure your emotions, only allowing that which you know your mind can handle without surrendering fully to them.
I did not cry when my father died. My brother was with him as he took his last breath, and I made it to the hospital right afterward…… the air from his last bit of life still hanging in the air, so near his face. I could feel his presence in the room as if he wasn’t sure he could leave us at such a fragile time in our lives.
I remember standing next to him, holding his hand and thinking “He would want me to remove these tubes from his body. I have to do this for him” and so I set about the task with his nurse….the task of preparing to say goodbye forever. The task of preparing my mind to wrap around a world in which my father was not physically present.
And I shut down. Turned it off. All of it. I washed him with her. I pulled tubes and turned off machines.
But I did not cry. Not even when my mother arrived and collapsed on the floor when we told her he was gone.
I filed it all into the “safe” folder. Do not go there, I told myself.
It was not until much later, after we had left the hospital, that I allowed a slip in the armour. After Billy had arrived too late, in a frantic drive from Galveston to be there to say goodbye to a much loved father-in-law…only to find an empty hospital room. After he ushered me into a dark hotel room. After we climbed in bed and he wrapped his arms around me. It was then that I cried safely and privately , if only for a moment.
Stay away. The baby. At all costs, do not allow the dam to break.
I feel the winter come
His icy sinews
Now in the firelight
The case continues
Another night in court
The same old trial
The same old questions asked
The same denial.
All of the trauma of that last week I filed away for a day when I did not have a tiny human being to protect inside. I knew my body would not handle the cascade of emotions that would happen if I pulled one, small memory from the pile.
I gave birth to his 1st grandchild 5 weeks later. We named our new son after his grandfather. Cory John. And I cried. Not for my father, but for my joy at having a blond, blue eyed son to pass down the legacy of a danish grandfather to.
The flood of emotions never came. In the ensuing weeks, I talked about the week he died in the same way I talked of my sons birth…..that need to tell the story. The need to put it out there as if that would make it less surreal.
The nightmares started about a month later. I would dream the same one over and over again, always the same scene……me, lying in his hospital bed with him. My head on his chest, listening to his heart beat when his breathing stopped. Slow…slower…slower still. And at the moment it stops, he sits up frantically, grabs me and gasps “Help me.” A horrible dream.
The shadows closely run
Like jury members
I look for answers in
The fire’s embers
Why was I missing then
That whole December
I give my usual line
I don’t remember.
Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep.
And all these differences
A cloak I borrow
We kept our distances
Why should it follow I must have loved you.
A dream? No. It was my reality. It happened late one evening 4 days before he died. The father that used to pull splinters from my hand. The one who stroked my fevered forehead, brushing my sweaty hair off my face when I was sick. The sweet father who held me tight when I had nightmares. The one that played little mouse with me. The one that walked me down the aisle. This father. The table turned abruptly and it was he who needed me. In a panic for air he grabbed me one night and said “help me”. Only, there was nothing I could do for him. I could not help him. I could not make his lungs breathe and bring oxygen to his heart and brain. I could! not! stop! it! I was just your little girl, how could I help you?
What is the force that binds the stars
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that pulls the tide
I never could find a place to hide.
What moves the earth around the sun
What could I do but run and run and run
Afraid to love, afraid to fail.
A mast without a sail.
This fall, it has been 15 years since my father died. He never once gave us any reasons to regret or feel guilty about our relationship with him. See, life was never about him. It was always about those around him. Selfless to the end, he was. I tell myself that this is why my grief is so stifled. Why grieve for someone who did not want you to grieve for them? I would like to underline that grief and remembrance are two distinctly different animals. Missing someone does not mean that you have to mourn them.
Missing my dad comes in waves. It hits me like a hard blow to the gut. The birth of each of my children. The need to call him and say “Hey dad, guess what?” and hearing him laugh and say “I don’t play guessing games, girl. Tell me what”.
Mandolin solos. Those make me gasp for breath like jumping into icy cold water does. Once when running, a song came on my headphones and the mandolin solo had me bending over with my hands on my knees, sobbing. He could pull that instrument down from the fireplace, the same wood worn mandolin hand-hewn by my great-uncle before he died in the great war, and with the flicker of his quick hands the notes would soar through the house and wrap around us in a haunting melody. In one of those “ah yes” moments, I realize that this is where Cory gets the gift of creating music. His father and I are unable to play a note.
When I go home, I can still open his closet, step in and inhale the smell of him. It is like a magical wardrobe that transforms me into his 6yo little girl. I will FOREVER be grateful to my mother for not clearing out that closet in a fit of sorrow.
He once said to me “When I am dead and gone…..when there is nothing left…..eventually you will all forget me. Life will go on as it should.”
I….will…..never……forget….YOU.
You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirates map
Of buried treasure.
My nightmares stopped eventually….replaced by his ghost. It wisps around my house in earthly forms. The fingers of my hands that make my brother stop short and take them in his own to gaze in wonder at. “Your hands” he says “they are Dad’s”. And he laughs, because how strange to see Dad’s hands after all these years without him.
The knees poking out of my 12 yo Codys shorts. Knees that could only belong to my Dad, but are sent down to carry on into a new generation.
Codys eyes. Mine as well. Sparkling. Turned down at the corners. Cody….he is Dad’s mirror image.
The way I laugh.
How I surprise myself when I find my fingers taping out a rhythm on my knee as I am impatient… the way his used to. The same, exact rhythm drummed out from my subconscious.
How strange to see him in Cody. Cody, who never met Dad, but has all his mannerisms. The way he walked. The way he used to plan things out with such deliberation. Taking the trash out was something that had to be planned in the same way that he drew out plans for the electrical system on an airplane. Cody does this. With my Dad’s same hand gestures. When he has something to appeal to us about, we sit back and make ourselves comfortable, because we know it is going to take a while.
How could I forget you when I have you with me day after day. When I play little mouse with my daughter I smile and know you are living on with us.
I never really cried hard for you. I had to take care of the living. I could not make that last week less painful. I can’t erase it. I can’t go back and do anything different. It is what it is. It doesn’t mean I miss you any less. I had to teach myself this. I had to realize that I am my fathers daughter, and you would have expected nothing less. You told me yourself during that last week “Go home.” because you were worried about the baby…all the while struggling to breathe. It doesn’t mean I loved you any less because I shut it out for so long. I couldn’t help you. I know this now. There was nothing as a daughter or a nurse that I could have done differently to make it better. I was there. I loved you will my whole heart, and I know now that that was all you needed.
I wanna have the same last dream again
The one where I wake up and I’m alive
Just as the 4 walls close me within
My eyes are opened up with pure sunlight.
I’m the first to know, my dearest friends
Even if your hope has burned with time
Anything that’s dead shall be regrown
And your vicious pain, your warning sign
You will be fine.
Hey oh, here I am
And here we go life’s waiting to begin.~The Adventure, Angels and Airwaves
In 2 weeks I will be running in a 1/2 marathon. The best part of this is that I will be blessed to have Billy cheering me on at the finish line.
My husband had a stroke 3 years ago. I used to have a really hard time saying that out loud to anyone. Now it flows off my tongue quite easily. I think that it woke me from some kind of domestic coma. I was happy, content and satisfied with my life. Who wouldn’t be. I had 4 lovely children, lots of friends and lived in the best town ever. It was all so wonderful and safe.
Safe. What is that? I think that safe, for me, had become another word for fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of life. Fear of what could happen. Our lovely small town had become my safety zone. So familiar. So peaceful. So very safe.
I have never, in my entire life, been someone who follows the path of least resistance. I have always taken the path less traveled by. If something was not a challenge, I could not be bothered. Billy is the same way. But when you have children……precious children……you don’t step out and take risks the way you once did. Now, with babies, the path less traveled by looks dark, ominous, full of traps and snares that could harm them. You take the path that is easier, safer, because you are responsible for protecting their bodies and minds. That path is joyful, wonderful and full of every kind of loveliness. You chose the right road for that moment in time.
Then one day you find that the sunny path, the one that you thought was safe for your family, had its own rocks for you to stumble over. The safe path had no guarantees either. Sometimes, things just happen. You realize that in choosing the safe road for your family, you might have missed some of the joyful bends and views that the other road had for you down its tricky path.
You have to decide. You have 2 wonderful choices…..you can keep going in the direction you have chosen and see what else is in store or you can gather your strength, throw on your heavy pack, and head down the untrodden path.
Either way, the future is uncertain. Each road has its joys and sorrows, but you cannot help that your gaze keeps going to the one covered in dense brush, hiding its surprises. Since you stumbled on the safe path, you consider that nothing is really safe and you figure that life is short, and you may not get a another chance to go down the path less traveled. So you turn and with one arm you pull back the branches and usher your family into the unknown.
To your surprise, the sun is shining there as well. When you round the first bend, with tears in your eyes, you take in the dappled beauty of light shining through and you applaud. And the children applaud as well. It is not the other path. Nothing can ever compare to it. That one was lovely and unique. This one is different…..wild, but also very similar. There is God. There is your family. Friends.
When I run across that finish line in 2 weeks, I plan on throwing my hands up in the air and pumping my fists. I am doing it for myself, and I will be joyful for my husbands life and for my own…. for a chance to experience being alive with Billy for just one more day.
And I will be thankful for taking the path less traveled by.
There’s a little black, dark scar tire divide
This is it can you hear me?
Have you ever felt a sad heart buried alive?
You can do almost anything.
There’s a little red bridge with the view of the sun with the lake
Recommend such a setting site.
And the thousands of stars come out thousands of times
I think this is one of the best pictures I have of all 4 of my kids together. Please ignore the fact that I had them climb all over a very expensive bronze sculpture to get my shot. The light, the moment….it all came together, and when they started hoisting each other up onto the horses, I was all “Oh yeah, that works!!” instead of “Oh nooooo! Do NOT climb on the very expensive artwork”.
Bad mother.
No one was arrested in the making of this epic, “everyone is looking at the camera” moment.
I put this on my Facebook page, and now I am placing it here. I was moved deeply by the efforts of this family, and I hope that you will be too. Please go here to donate what you can. Everything counts my friends.
These two together make me feel……………..a feeling that literally has no word for it in the English language. I want to squeeze them. And I might have. I just might have run up behind them and squished them together and kissed ‘em. Ya never know.
Remembering and being forever grateful for strong leadership in the years that followed…both via President George W. Bush and the people of America.
Do not let the torch be passed on to complacency. We will never forget, nor will we allow anyone foreign or domestic to take away our freedom. Bravery is in each and every one of us, so fight the good fight folks. Are you guys ready? Let’s roll!
They were so tiny and sweet. I wanted to reach my hands up and cup my palms around them. Their little peeps and tiny chirps were almost inaudible.
I picture one of those miniature artists, with a tiny brush, painting on tiny feet and the spots under a beak as small as a sewing needle. How He didn’t paint out of the lines is beyond me.
The lodge where we stayed would leave us wood and kindling every evening so we could have a camp fire. The kids LOVED this. I look at these pics and see my family, cozy and alone together. I love my family alone together. No phones. No X-box. No neighbors. No one but the 6 of us. Heaven.
The kids talked, explored, and ran wild together. Even Cory, the almost 15yo who rarely interacts with his brothers these days, bonded with them again and they were amazing together.
You know what part they don’t tell you about when raising these kids? I’ll tell you. It is that one day, too soon I might add, they pull away. Not in the weird, “I am Emo and I must wear all black” pull away. But the subtle loss that happens when they shed their childhood, like a skin they just step out of because it was too small. What comes forth is a new person, and because you were not paying as close attention as you might have if you didn’t have 3 other kids, you jerk your head up and are startled and pained a bit by the loss of that little boy. I mean, really pained. He is gone. Poof. And in his place is a man. You didn’t see it coming, because you did the unthinkable…..
One of the things that pull me to Colorado, among the many, are the flowers. It is just amazing the colors, abundance and randomness of them. They grow from cracks, crevices, behind waterfalls, on rocks. They literally make up peoples front yards.
And they grow wild along the gentle streams.
I do believe the flowers alone could entice me to move there. The only problem would be the lack of an ocean. I hear these cold dwelling people have adapted to being land locked and now surf on snow. ;*) They even get tans and say “Duuuude”.
We miss Colorado. Really, really miss it. This happens every time we go there. The first time we went, on our honeymoon, we decided to move there. It is the reason why Billy went back to school to be a PA. We love the people, and I feel at home there…..the way I do at the beach. The only problem was, after visiting Pagosa and Durango one winter during PA school, we decided we could not take the cold…..or more accurately, Billy could not take the cold. The man needs to roam. When he is cooped up, he is antsy and hard to be around. Picture a pacing, caged panther. He has so much drive to be out there doing whatever, and cannot stand the idea of being stranded inside. No matter how I try to tell him it would not be that way, he thinks we would be snowbound much of the winter. So be it.
So, our solution is that we will live at the beach, and head to Colorado during the summer on vacation. We have scoped out a magnificent trailer park on the river, and will bring the 5′er next year.
Problem is, when you are 8, sometimes you get left behind your big brothers.
My boys are dare devils, as is their father, so I left them in God’s hands for most of the trip. I mean, there is only so many times you can scream “Get away from the 800 foot drop off” or “that river is moving faster than you think” without making all their ears bleed, so Mia and I just sort of gave up and said “Look, a pretty flower” and distracted ourselves.
The boys acted like cats with 9 lives. Feral, wild cats.
They left Quinn here to figure it out……and we were all tired after a days driving and were ready to get to our cabin.
Whoa………..
I know, right, baby girl? It is maddening. Just wait until you have one of your own.
Everyone offered up hints (go back or you will be nice and wet) which frustrated him even more.
This one was really helpful….I am pretty sure he didn’t want to get his hair messed up……
I think Bill said something like “Swim for it!!” which made Quinn laugh and say “Have you felt how COLD this water is???”
It felt like an eternity…….I have about 30 pictures of the incident…but finally Cody waded across to help him and they both got soaked.
By that point Mia and I were in the car because it was cold, so, no pics.
The next day they climbed a waterfall. Not the path to the waterfall, but the freaking waterfall itself. On slippery, slimy rocks. It was hair raising.
We drove over 2700 miles, with over 1000 of that in one day. It has been voted by all in our family as the best trip ever, and the only way to travel.....well, beside the boat that is.
We took the kids to Colorado to show them some of the joy that we experienced on our honeymoon 19 years ago. I can’t quite put to words some of the magical moments we had, but one in particular really captured my heart.
We hiked part of the Continental divide up at Wolf Creek Pass. Of course, it was too steep and difficult for Mia, so Bill told Cody and I to go on ahead when she got tired. Cory and Quinn decided to stay with Bill as well, so Cody and I went all the way to the top together. Along the way we talked, I told him some stories of his dad and I. At one point, he stopped and said “You have some great memories with Dad here that you can tell us about, and now I have a great memory of hiking this with you to tell my own family one day” and then he hugged me. (sob)
He protects. One father holds his daughter, the other Father holds his heart. Body and soul. It was hard not to feel the majesty of God at the top of the world.
The cliffs and crevices in Colorado can swallow small children whole, but they also hold little secrets. Secrets that had me stifling my fears so I could hang myself and camera into some precarious positions just to get that hidden shot. This was shot on manual, is SOOTC…… and I barfed afterwards.
My Gawd…my baybeeeeees are on the edge. For a mother who is terrified of heights, this moment felt like there was a vise gripping my heart and squeeeeeezing. Bill made certain that I had plenty of moments such as this. More evidence to come later.
Hey, don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head you feel left out
Or looked down on.
Just try your best,
Try everything you can.
And don’t you worry what they tell themselves,
When you’re away
Hey, you know they’re all the same.
You know you’re doing better on your own,
So don’t buy in.
Live right now
Yeah, just be yourself.
It doesn’t matter if it’s good enough,
For someone else.
It just takes some time
Little girl you’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be alright, alright. ~ Jimmy Eats World
If the last two weeks could be summed up in one word, I think I would have to choose “magnificent”. Other words that come to mind….majestic, family, together, complete, whole, gorgeous, blessed, friends, marvelous, memories, and love.
Where I live, the sun rises over the ocean, and sets on the bay. Water to water. Like a giant metronome swinging over us, we live our lives to its rhythm.
Rising early and with splendor, the sun shakes off the sleep and sea salt and slowly makes her way across the sky creating the hot summer day. Then in a grand production, she dips into the bay as if to cool herself off, sending blues, reds and brilliant oranges blazing into our eyes.
I try and capture the beauty and fullness of life here with my images, but it is impossible. You can freeze the moment, but it never really does it justice. Sometimes the images I take are like a hologram. If you look closely you can see the fishermen raising their arms and casting lines as fine as a spiders silk, glistening into the water. Look closely.
Between two waters my life exists. Surrounded by love and moving with the tides.
I am thankful to the Son. The Father. The Spirit within me. All that is Holy and good.
Each day, in spite of whatever trials I may face, I rise to great the sun and sea.
The promise of what the day may hold is too much for my curiosity.
And the dazzling show at the end is just a taste of the joys to come.
I love my sweet husband. He loaded my van up with surfboards, put towels in and told me to go get the new board and spend the day at the beach getting it wired…….he would stay at home and hang with the kids. So I did. Am the proud owner of an M-13 and a sunburned face. The board is fast, plows through waves while paddling out, and catching waves is a breeze. I spent lots of time falling today.
This was an update on my Facebook page. Yes, I have stooped to cutting and pasting on my blog. Laziness knows no limits. I am really enjoying connecting with old friends and some new friends there. It is like going into a local bar and having a margarita with your buddies….or a coffee, depending on the time of day. Intimate and comfortable.
That FB update pretty much sums up my week. Bill has been off, and due to one of the kids being ill, we did not get to take our usual week alone. Instead, we had Cory babysit and we hit the beach all day and evening Thursday and Friday together…..the days consisted of surfing, surfing, surfing, having a micro brew and burger, Mexican food, and people watching over a beer at our local hangout. The surfing was excellent on Friday and this mom charged! I got the thumbs up from The Man after several waves. (this has the same effect on my as when he winks) We also decided I needed a new board. I wanted something with more performance, but not a short board, so I ended up with the M-13. It is sick and when I brought it home, Billy checked it out and said “you made a good choice”. I am not sure there are many 15yo boys whose mom calls them into the garage saying “Son, come see my new surfboard.” It didn’t occur to me how odd this was until I imagined my own mother doing it. ( Erase that image…shudder). I guess when it comes to being a mom, I don’t necessarily fit the stereotype. While he was waxing and prepping my new board, the owner of the shop motioned over his shoulder to an aqua board with a big pink flower on it and asked what I thought. I replied, “The thought of carrying that down the beach makes me want to bang my head on wood” and he laughed and said “The real surfer girls don’t want anything to do with pink, flowered boards. The tourists are the ones that buy them.”
She took her job as flower girl very, very seriously. You would have thought it was she who was getting married. She even called her flower girl dress her “wedding dress”.
Soon enough little one. Blow some bubbles and play with your baby dolls just a tad bit longer. Your love is out there waiting for you…..probably playing with his Bionicles and catching frogs.
You won’t have to work to find him…..trust me on this. You will find your way to each other, just like your father and I did.
Nerf basketball hoop + kids + boat = great fun! I bought this with the image of my boys playing with it in the water. I didn’t imagine jelly fish joining in on the fun. Swarms of them. Huge ones.
After dropping anchor, Cory let out a loud “whoop” and launched himself into the water with a front flip. The other boys followed, and after several front flips, cannon balls and back flips Cory came out of the water doing the “ohmygodithurtssobad” dance as he rubbed his legs, chest and arms. A huge jelly got him from toe to shoulder. Quinn quickly followed. Alcohol was brought out to douse the stings, and for the parents to drink, and the water was deemed to be jelly territory for the night.
Jelly fish facts:
Jellyfish are prevalent in our local waters. Some types can produce a painful reaction that is caused when the tentacle touches the skin and releases poison from the nematocysts located along each tentacle.
Symptoms include intense pain, itching, rash and swelling. Some people have nausea and vomiting. It is possible to have a fatal reaction if you are allergic.
Initial treatment involves removing the tentacle. Rinse with vinegar for 15-30 minutes. You may use sea water or rubbing alcohol.
DO NOT USE FRESH WATER AS THIS WILL CAUSE MORE POISON TO BE RELEASED. Did you know this? It is true. So don’t grab that icy cold water that will feel soooo good on the burn. Um, no, it will make it worse.
Alcohol is always on a boat. Sun-downers are a requirement and a welcome refreshment after a cluster-you-know-what sail to your anchorage. We always have an assortment of rum… Captain Morgans, Bacardi white, coconut, mango, banana….mmmmmm. Hopefully your first aid kit contains rubbing alcohol, but if it does not, you can grab that bottle of Captain Morgans and douse some on the sting, then take a slug.
So, what should your first aid it contain?
-sunscreen (don’t get me started…..then again, I will do a post devoted to this tomorrow)
-vinegar (for jellyfish stings)
-rubbing alcohol (for cuts and jelly stings)
-antibiotic ointment
-benadryl (allergic reaction)
-Tylenol (kid and adult for fever or pain)
-Motrin 9because sometimes a kid fever is not doused with Tylenol)
-tweezers
-scissors
-bandaids
-gauze
-tape
-saline solution or eye wash
I have some live aboards who read this blog, so I would love for you guys to add to this list and give your seasoned advice as well.
One final word…….some Jelly fish stings can be quite bad. If someone gets stung and you know this person has severe allergies, do not waste time getting them to a doc. However, most people just experience intense pain for a short period, followed by some welts or redness. For Cory, he was better within 15 minutes, but was done with the water.
I found this little kit in a shop near us a few weeks ago, and tucked it away for the 4th. It was so incredibly cute. There was a little bottle, adorable notes in English and Spanish that you could fill in your name, where the bottle was launched, and your mailing addy so whoever finds it could send you a note and tell you were it ended up.
We filled out the form, wrote a funny note on the back, and also asked that whoever finds it let us know where it drifted ashore etc, then we stuffed the note in.
Even Honey was curious. Billy was busy scraping barnacles off the prop…….he’s like that you know….always moving and doing.
Then we fired up the tea candle, grabbed a spoon and melted the wax to seal the cork. There were lots of “Let me melt the wax” and “Can I spread the wax on”. Um, no. You cannot play with fire on the boat that is filled with wood. Mom gets that honor.
Then the kids fought over who would get to throw it overboard until finally Mia grabbed it, threw it and said “THERE!” loudly. Right on baby sista.
I wonder if it will end up someplace exotic and fun. Like Paamul? Keep an eye out for it, guys. ;*)
We took off for the weekend and after an aggravating sail filled with a broken boom traveler and frayed nerves, anchored off our little island for some solitude. We got there right around sunset, got the kiddos into their jammies
and watched this from the stern
and this from the bow shortly after
It was a really lovely, hot night. We kicked back and after dark watched the fireworks from the deck of our boat, with nary a soul around us.
Bawk, bawk, bawk, baaaaaaaaaaaaaaawk. Chicken! The boys completely Barbied out and decided not to do the mohawks. Hair is just too important when you are 14.
The reality is that all the girls just about had a cow when he told them he was shaving the “Golden Locks” so he had to please his adoring fans by leaving all the flips and curls intact. His hair has celebrity status at school, and by golly, hair like that must persevere on to high school.
Yes, I have my hands full with this one. He is a complete and wonderful riot, and our relationship is one of the joys of my life…….most days. Some days, the teen ego has me wanting to scream. And I do. Then I regret it and we move on…………..because that is what it is all about. Imperfection. He and I are imperfect, and together we muddle through and make it joyful.
My teenager makes me proud. When he is grown, and I look back at his teen years, I won’t remember the battle of wills. I will not write about them here. They are trivial and unimportant and I will not talk about someone I love in a negative way for all the Internet to absorb. It is never right to do that, no matter how it is sugar coated. His life is not mine to plaster here for his friends to find and read about. I won’t do that to any of my children. This is not my personal diary to rag about my kids, and I will not treat it as such.
The teen I will remember is the one standing in the kitchen making smoothies for himself and his siblings. I will remember his sister leaning on his legs at Vacation Bible school and his arms wrapped protectively around her. I will remember how he looks me straight in the eye when he speaks to me.
I will smile and remember the day he announced that he was going to call me “Jody” from now on. When I laughed and protested, he smiled that incredible smile and said “Woman, that’s your name!”
He is unbelievably smart, funny, handsome beyond words, kind, strong willed, egocentric, selfless, selfish, generous, brutally honest, secretive, wide open, and a maze of personality and spunk that will take a lifetime to wade through and learn about.
He is my first born son. He is my blue eyed son.
He is nearing adulthood, and I find myself knowing that it is time….time to allow him the privacy that he deserves. The privacy that my children deserve. I am not sure where to go from here with this blog. Some days I just can’t wait to get on and post about our day and share it with you….but I never do. The reality is that most days, I want to hold my memories close to my heart and savor them all to myself.
Even though I don’t post as frequently, life goes on here, same as it always has. Lots of love, surf, sand, and sailing. Billy and I are as we have always been…happy, healthy and in love. We will celebrate 19 years of marriage soon. For our anniversary, we are planning to take the kids on a route that we traveled together for our honeymoon. It will take us through the mountains and the desert, sleeping in a tent for almost 2 weeks. When I asked Billy to tell me a word to describe what he thinks the trip will be like, he replied slowly and carefully “Challenging”.
I will be taking my camera to capture the challenge. I will photograph the look on their faces when they see the mountains. The joy of bathing in a cold, mountain stream. Making espresso over an open fire. All of us, sardined together into a tent. My children sitting under the same sand stone arch that their parents sat under 19 years ago looking at the moon.
I can’t wait to photograph the amazing red rock of Utah. God lives there, I do believe. It is the most majestic place, so it must be His earthly home. I know my pictures will never do it justice.
My guess is as good as yours if I will post them here. The time may have come to move on. Yes, I do believe, it just might have.
While summer officially arrived a week or so ago for the rest of the upper states, it has been in full swing for Texas since April.
Temps have been between 90-105 through most of the state, but those temps for Texas mean she is just warming up. August is our steamy month. While the hill country and upper Tejas have that lovely dry heat, the lower coastal region has the stifling, humidity. Down here in the sub-tropics, the word “hot” is usually dripping wet. It is like walking into a steam room…..with all of your clothes on.
I could never live inland in heat like this. The water brings a breeze that cools things down and makes it all so much more tolerable. I could never live in Houston. Houston has no breeze. I think it is the single most stifling place I have ever been. I feel claustrophobic in Houston during the summer months.
Ahh, but the coast. Even when the breeze blowing off the Gulf is wet and humid, it is uplifting and alive. There is nothing, IMHO, like the smell of the ocean. Clean and organic. That salty smell makes me come alive.
Everything grows down here. All you have to do is stick it in the ground and water it occasionally and it flourishes. Bougainvilleas grow as tall as the house, and the the scent of frangipani and jasmine float in the air.
We have some fun plans for the 4th. Boats are involved. Messages in bottles. Beer. Sausage. Watermelon. Fireworks viewed from the deck of a sailboat.
A rare picture of me. I had just returned from a run, and am looking pretty sweaty and shabby. I have 8 more pounds to go to finish my weight loss, but I am feeling like my old self again. Running every day, and am training for a 1/2 marathon this October. This is me. I can’t just go out and get some exercise. It has to be a suffer-fest. I just have to be out there, going with the moment. Everything I do is pushed to extreme. Running when it is 97 degrees. i am insane. My runs are not exercise, they are about survival. Survival of my body and mind. To push myself to the edge. I need that. I can’t explain it, but I just do.
This isn’t just about finishing a race. It is about the journey getting there. The whole journey. The one in which I found myself again…….and it feels so good.
I do not like a firm pillow. I tend to get a really stiff neck. This is not to say that firm pillows are bad. It just shows the degree in which I have ruined my vertebrate by sleeping on something that amounts to air.
Exhibit A:
This is my beloved pillow. It is squishy. Can you see its wonderful squishiness? At night, I squish it all together, and lay my head upon it and slumber wonderfully…….and then I wake up with a crick in my neck. Or sore shoulders from tucking my arms under the pillow to make it higher.
Billy has one of these as well, but he just holds his. See, he likes to hold something at night, and since my body pillow (also feather, God love it) has replace him, he clutches 100% goose down in compensation.
I have tried other pillows. I squished mine to the side once and tried a memory foam pillow. The sales clerk assured me that the smell of toxic chemicals would fade from it once it was in use, but that never happened. I even tried to wash the smell out, which killed the pillow. Have you ever tried to pick up memory foam that has absorbed every ounce of water from the washer? I didn’t think so, but let me tell you it was heavy as I heaved it in the trash.
Alas, I was back to my squishy pillow.
Way back in the spring, I was asked by Select Comfort if I would like to receive for free and objectively review their Customized “Create Your Perfect Pillow” by Sleep Numberon the blog. I normally don’t do reviews this time of year (Christmas time, sure. Giveaways are so fun), but I jumped the chance for a free pillow after checking out the site. Look, they have down fill! Squishy! So, one afternoon I sat down with one of their pillow experts and created my perfect pillow . She talked me through the three step process, and helped me make choices based on my preferences, allergies, and such.
Then I waited anxiously for my pillow.
When I opened the box, I was all “Look! 2 pillows!!”, but it was actually the outer and inner shell. Also in the package were two different pillow protectors, which I will talk about later.
My first impression was how amazing the fabric and the quality of the construction were. The outer shell fabric is cotton with a light teal piping. The edges are squarish, and there is a zipper that unzips one end and side. When you open it, the interior is all sealed into a pouch to hold the inner support core.
For my pillow I chose a down outer shell, with a down inner core. I wanted a pillow that I could shape and squish under my head, so my pillow expert recommended down all the way.
To assemble your pillow, all you have to do is insert the inner core into the outer comfort shell.
Carnivorous, cannibalistic pillow.
and zip it on up.
As I mentioned, creating your custom pillow is a three step process. Step 1, the outer shell, step 2 the inner core, and step 3 involved selcting your pillow protector. I could not make up my mind between the cotton and the In Balance protector. I was intrigued by the idea of Temperature Balancing material, but love the feel of cotton. The sent me both to try, and right now the In Balance is on my pillow.
Sleeping on it was tough the first few nights. I was sooo used to the other pillow, that having a bit of support took some getting used to. Even though both the shell and core are made with down, there is some support. You can still squish it up, but there is most certainly more form to the pillow than just a plain old down pillow. This is what I needed, but like I said, it took some getting used to.
So far, I am happy with my pillow. My 11 yo is as well, and he keeps stealing it off of my bed to sleep on it. Although it is a bit more firm than I like (read this to mean it actually has some form instead of the weight of your head parting the down and inevitably resting on the mattress like my old pillow) I am getting used to it and have noticed less neck and shoulder pain when I sleep with it. Why less shoulder pain? Well, I don’t ball my arm up under the pillow to add support, so my shoulders are not at odd angles all night. Also, my head is more in-line with my spine, so less neck kinking. I know I need this, especially with all the surfing we do and the strain it puts on my shoulders and neck from paddling.
As for the pillow protector, I have been using the In Balance, and it actually works. It seems to keep the pillow cool, which is awesome. It is also 300-thread count cotton for the high thread count snob in me. I like it so much, I haven’t even tried the other plain cotton one yet.
For myself, I asked for the down+down+In Balance, and that combo has worked. The other materials you can use to custom make your pillow are down alternative, feather, memory foam, contoured memory foam and even a silver down alternative that has antimicrobial properties.
Go make yourself a pillow! I priced pillows like this in the store, and the prices were comparable, so it makes sense to get a custom one instead if you are in the market for a nice pillow. There is even a sale going on there now. I have my eye on this. Wonder if it comes in down squishiness?
She speaks a language all her own
Just a little like her mother
And she knows
I love her so
As I tuck her ‘neath the covers
Father, daughter
Born by the water
Surfs up
Suns down
Life in a beach town.
Father, Daughter
Down by the water
Shell seek,
Dreams float
Life’s good on our boat ~ Jimmy Buffett
Yesterday we took off and went to the beach to go surfin’. The waves were fun, but smallish, and there were not many people at all. We surfed pretty much by ourselves most of the morning and early afternoon.
Mid-afternoon some groms showed up with their father? chaperone? These guys were real yahoos on their short little boards. They were carving and getting air on the inside, and Bill and Cory were surfing the outside bigger waves. Billy was catching waves left and right, and riding them in all the way to the inside. Let me back up and explain “inside” and “outside”….it is pretty much how it sounds. The outside is the further most places where the waves break. At a long pier, it is usually around the T-head or in front of it. The inside waves are basically the sandbars located closer to the beach. On a small day, the inside is where the short boarders ride, as the outside waves roll too slow and they need a fast wave with a steep front.
On a long board, you can ride it all pretty much. You can catch the waves on the outside, and if you are skilled, stay with the wave as it doubles back up and breaks a second time. SO, this is what Billy was doing.
As he would ride the wave into the inside, the Yahoos! would try and drop in on him and cut him off the wave. This was just not going to happen with my husband. You NEVER drop in in front of someone who is standing up, riding a wave, and you most certainly don’t do it to Billy. As I watched, a grom tried to drop in on Bill’s wave, and Bill grabbed the nose of his board, and shoved him out……while riding the wave on his board. I can’t imagine being able to do this. I have enough trouble concentrating on my ride, let alone having the balance to bend down, grab the nose of another surfboard with someone on it, and shove it out of the backside of the wave.
This happened several times, and the older guy, maybe 30-35yo, paddled over to Billy and said something like “hey, you don’t cut in on the boys on the inside.” And Bill was all “what are you talking about? I was riding those waves, they were mine” and the guy said “no, you are not listening. You don’t ride the inside when the short boarders are there”. and Bill replied, “I have ears just like you, and those were my waves. I was standing up and riding them when those boys dropped in on me.” The older guy said something like “You don’t understand” and paddled away.
After Bill came in and told me about it, we were standing with a friend as the older dude came in. As he walked passed, Bill said “Hi, how are you doing” and the guy pretended to shoot Bill with his hand. I said “Kook” to him.
We don’t get much of that BS around here. In fact, I have not experienced anything like that since 20 years ago surfing the Flagship in Galveston. These guys were not locals as far as we knew. They were probably from south of here, and were jerks. The older guy had left his 2 small children, a girl and a boy, probably ages 10 and 7, on the beach ALONE while he pretended to be the surf police for several hours. They sat at a picnic table behind me playing “I spy” while their dad surfed and neglected them. The pier is a place where the bums and druggies sleep it off, and I cannot IMAGINE leaving my kids unattended there. Insane.
So basically, I have something to say to these idiots and you can count on the fact that next time I see them, they will get an earfull. Young man (yeah, I am your elder jerk, so when you hoot and holler at me from the pier, remember I am old enough to be your mommy), my husband ‘understands”. When you were just a one celled organism in your mamas ovaries, Bill had already been surfing for more than 12 years. When you were toddling around in your overfilled diaper, he had been to California, Mexico and Hawaii more times than you could count on your fingers, you Kook.
So get this. We are locals my friend. You, are not. Next time you try and educate someone whose surf experience totals all three of your combined ages, watch out. The next time it might be the more fierce of the locals here. My husband gently rebuked you by shoving you out of his wave numerous times (yes, he schooled you). The next guy might not be so patient. One surfer out there told my husband and son that “if those boys pulled that #$*& on me, I would jump off my board and educate them properly” on surf etiquette and Tribal Law. See the part saying “Do Not Drop In”. What part of that do you not understand? We have never heard the rule of “No longboards on the inside”. Oh, that must have been one you made up to suit your Kook self. Aloha.
Is that not insane, gobble her up cuteness? Watching this degree of precious was beyond words.
I have video, but honestly do not have the motivation to upload it online. The sun is out, the sand is warm and the water beckons to me with all its luscious saltiness. Today is the last day of school, and the beginning of summer. We have big plans.
What are you going to do? Are you going to spend it online reading about other peoples lives, or are you going to get outside and live your own fabulous life?
Turn off the computer. Who cares what Dooce is having for dinner. Will there be another Drama at BlogHer this summer? Psst…it has no bearing on your life. Quit worrying about what other people do with their kids. Really, I mean who cares???? If you like sunscreen, pile it on baby and get your arse outside.
IMHO, if you are sitting here reading this, than you are wasting time that you will never get back again. All it takes to hammer this home is having a husband who had a stroke. Life is fragile and each minute that ticks by is a minute of your life that is gone forever. I would rather have that minute be one that was spent kissing my children. Or spreading a quilt in the backyard under the oaks with the sunlight dappling through the trees onto my husband and I as we steal a romantic moment alone while the neighborhood is at work. Be still my heart.
My friend Shelley made my family laugh this week. One of my kiddos got grounded and the Wii and PSP are in dust bunny hell. She said “It’s going to be an Amish Summer!” To join in on the fun, in an act of solidarity I am adding my computer to the tangle of cords and electronic devices in the top of the closet for the next 2 weeks. T.V. is unplugged. (mutiny…now it is reduced time each day) Game boys pffft, gone(this was met with mutiny…the kids and Bill, so handhelds are allowed). This was not met with a standing ovation at our house. My 14yo son, (who is the one that got grounded and whom the other kids can blame for their misery, but I’m just sayin’) said “Shelley isn’t kidding. It is going to be an Amish Summer and it is going to stink (insert a “uc” in place of “tin”). And I replied “Fool, if I finish all of my chores and you finish thine, then tonight we’re gonna party like its 1699″ and he started laughing involuntarily, because he would never laugh on purpose at anything I say anymore. He is much too cool.
So anyway…..Make this your Anish Summer, fool. Turn it all off, and don’t be whiny, or else, my brother, I might have to get medieval on you heinie.
As my husband waded out into the tiny surf I yelled at him and gestured to my hat….he ignored me and continued on. The Hat (he has 2) and sunglasses remained on, no doubt in an effort to make me squirm in embarrassment.
Only a kook would paddle out into tiny surf, dressed like that. I think I even yelled “Kook” at him as he paddled to catch his first wave.
In reality, the difference between Billy and a kook is that a kook could never pull it off. The Hat and $200 prescription sun glasses would be lost in the first wave. Only that man could surf like this for an hour and never lose either. Goofball.
Cory was voted by the student body to have the best hair in his class. Mr. and Ms. Best Hair are photographed side by side in the Middle School annual, and that picture is going to have a prominant spot in his wedding rehearsal dinner slide show.
Now that he has won best hair, he has no use for his gorgeous locks. Swim team is looming, and the long standing tradition is for the boys to get mohawks…….and they color the hair in various shades of “freak your grandparents out”. My son is to spend a week or so in the Hill Country with his 75yo Papa and Nannie soon. I am pretty sure that a mohawk on his little darling grandbaby will require an increase in Papa’s cardiac meds and lots of gin.
You vote….should my preshus bayyyybeee color his mohawk green, red, pink or blue?
p.s…..my last blog theme died during a routine upgrade, and I have replaced it with this one. Please let me know if you have any issues. Comments have bee screwed up, and I hope that this repairs them. Thank you, The Management.
Saturday we went to a birthday party with a pirate theme. This b-day party was HUGE. There were over 50 kids, and each kid was given a handmade pirate costume. They were DARLING and made me feel like a lazy bum with my “family” b-day parties. Mia hasn’t taken hers off since Saturday. I finally had to sneak it to the washer, and then put it away until she asks for it. A bit of motherly mutiny. ARrrrr.
Mothers day was exactly how I imagined it. Family, beach, surfing, and some nice cold Modelo’s. I would share some images, but the truth is, I put my camera away so I could enjoy the moment. Okay, crap, I just never pulled it out the entire day. Bad dog. And just how many beach photos do you people want to see over and over again? ;*)
We are trying to figure out trip plans around all the swim team and other scheduled activities this summer. I am itching to get some firm dates, as all our favorite spots are opening up and ready for summer. One idea was another month in the trailer somewhere south. I have made the promise that if we do this, I won’t beg to move there. We are also thinking about a boat trip very soon, but the wind better lay down a bit before we schedule that. It has really been blowing, like howling, which is great for racing, but terrible for leisure sailing with young kids. Nothing like sleepless nights as you imagine drifting into the reef due to dragging anchor in the 30mph winds. It makes rowing to shore a chore. It wan’t like this last year, so not sure how typical this is or not.
In the meantime, we are wrapping up all things school. I am sooooo glad to be near the end. Waking before 6am is running me down, and I will be glad for a break from constant car rides to and from and all over. So will the kids. I can tell they are done and ready for a break because Quinn was almost in tears this morning when Bill told him it was time to leave for school.
Summer also grants me more exercise time, as I have a big kid home to watch the littles. I need some me time pretty bad. I am hoping to shove my board in my van and take some early morning surf sessions BY MYSELF. What a concept. Have not done that since 1993.
In other news, it is snake season again, and Cory, AKA Steve Irwin Jr., has been at it again. Everything that slithers ends up in his fearless hands. The latest was a water snake that looked very much like a copperhead at first. I had a coronary when it bit him. I am ready to kill the boy. I guess I can’t really call him a boy anymore. The “boy” has morphed into this stunning man creature?
I have to do a double take everytime I look at him. How did THAT come out of Bill and I. Impossible.
One last note…when talking about Mothers Day last week, I mentioned that I love handmade cards from the kids. So, this is what I found next to my espresso machine on Sunday morning.
I love my Billy.
And now I am off to work out. I joined a local health club, and am trying hard to hammer home the last few pounds of weight loss before June. Must be hawt for my man. ;*)
I love watching my kiddos and photographing them naturally. They are so funny and uninhibited. Mia seems to lose herself in thought and is so demonstrative. I was reading a magazine while she sat with me the other night, when I heard her humming and looked up to see her with her eyes closed, doing what looked like ballet. I had my camera there, so I snapped a picture.
Busted!!! The flash went off, and that photo session was kapoot.
Some of you might have noticed that this site was down for, well, I don’t know how long. The short story is that the shared IP from my hosting company got black listed by the company formally known by SW Bell, so if you have that ISP, well, no “and baby makes 6″ for you. Oh, wait! I have that ISP!!……hey, are you kidding me? I couldn’t get to my own blog. Insane.
After over 24 hours of being treated like a ping pong ball going between Bluehost and the company formerly known as SWB, as they passed the blame back and forth, someone from A T & T actually spent her day dedicated to figuring the mystery out and she found the black list issue. Her name is Serena and works in tier 2 at the call center, and she rocks her job. The problem was, it might take a week or more to get unblocked.
So I found a way around it. Dealing with it really stinks, especially if you hate having a phone hanging out of your ear for 6 hours at a time. Billy especially hates it, because it means I am am on the computer more and have a phone hanging out of my ear. Have I ever told you how much he dislikes the computer and the phone? They are his arch enemies. His competition. He doesn’t care what I do all day while he is at work, but when he gets home, he would like for me to be with him and present 100%. This is a request I gladly will meet….although, when my blog has been shackled and jailed, the man will have to deal. Savvy?
So, now we are back to our regularly scheduled surfing, sailing, beach going blogging…..surfing is on the schedule for Mother’s Day. I am sorry if the ISP thing caused anyone any issues. I was wondering where everyone went the last few days. I might have even sniffed my under arms a couple of times.
**p.s. In the process of dealing with this issue, my last post got accidentally deleted by yours truly (a casualty of trying to blog via iTouch). I was able to find a cached version of the post to copy, but lost all comments. Such is life.
This face……….it is the face that makes my heart explode with joy.
It is also the face that belongs to a child that changes her clothes 16 times each day. Not only does she change the clothes, but she wears each set long enough to dirty it just enough for it to need washing.
As a boy mom prior to birthing Miss Mimi, I never had this problem. My boys were never really aware that clothes can match, and that if you wear something once and play in a sand pile for 6 hours, you might need to put them in the dirty hamper when you take them off. I am not even sure they know where the dirty clothes hamper is, since I usually find it stuffed under the bed, on the floor of their closet or worse, put back in the drawer.
The boy/girl thing is very apparent in regards to bathtime. When Mia gets out of the bath, she asks if she got all the shampoo out of her hair. With boys, you have to make sure they even used shampoo…….using soap takes longer and the goal in the shower is not to get clean, but to get it over with as quick as possible.
Girls dress up to go to the Hannah Montana movie, complete with scarves. Boys stick their finger in their mouth and pretend to barf when you ask them if they would like to go.
It would never occur to Mia to throw her Corolle baby up on the roof. The boys would do it, complete with mock “save me” cries.
Nor would she tie a string to a stuffed animal, attach it to the back of her bike and drag it down the road in an attempt to create a patient for her “surgery clinic”.
Mia probably would not launch her skateboard into the sewer, leaving her father to figure out how to fish it out from a crack in the sidewalk 12 inches high.
Boys would not climb into bed with their mom and say “Mom, can I give you a facial”. They would get into your makeup and mix everything around making a new color called “barf”.
Boy hugs and girl hugs are different. Girls snuggle up and tenderly stroke your cheek. Boys wrap their arms around you in a bear hug you that you know is going to end too soon.
Boys love their moms with a fierce protectiveness. Girls love their mom with a sweet tenderness.
The differences are most certianly there. They are not learned behaviors. They just are.
If boys are blue and girls are pink, I don’t see the individual colors. I see the most perfect color of purple my life could ever have painted across it.
You might have seen this one before. Would you like to be sitting there? I think if you stare at it long enough, it might come true.
This image reminds me of why we moved here. The sun, the sand, the gorgeous colors, and returning to our beachy roots. It sure is easy to forget that in the midst of school activities, illness and other gunky life stuff.
We went to the boat this weekend, and while sitting in the cockpit having a Modelo with lime, kids playing somewhere in the marina, we talked about what Billy and I have dubbed “meatloaf”….the everyday life stuff that makes you forget about all the blessings and how cool life is. I was sitting there, in this amazing setting, on our freaking BOAT for crying out loud, talking to him about my dreams of sailing away, and he said “Listen to you. Here we are, sitting in a sailboat, smack dab in the middle of this amazing place, sharing a beer in gorgeous weather and you are not present in the moment. Look around you!!!” My head snapped up and in that moment I realized my problem. Billy was right….I don’t live in the moment. I am constantly scheming and dreaming when life starts to even remotely get too routine.
So, in complete and utter mutiny to the “meatloaf” in our life, I am instituting Operation Perpetual Vacation. OPV, not to be confused with the vaccine, has begun and to hell with TAKS tests, the flu, coughing, groundings, fights, bickering, PMS, the ennnnnndless pick-up lines at school, and sleepless nights. I am reclaiming our family weekends from the endless spend-the-nights and from here to there kid shuffle. Sleep-overs will be confined to Friday nights, but not every weekend. Family comes first.
To rekindle that new-love-spark I have always had with the ocean, I am again driving down the beach front on the way back from school drop off, and my camera has joined me again as my constant companion. I adore taking pictures, and not just for the paper (loving it still and having a blast with the assignments), but everyday life had me leaving it at home most days. To hell with that.
We did not move here for meatloaf. We did not change our lives for the better, just to find ourselves living the same life with an ocean for a backdrop.
Back on the boat, Billy and I sat there and watched the kids run in and out of the marina store buying candy. He pointed out a seagull stalking a pelican for fresh leftovers for over an hour. Liveaboards stopped by and chatted with us from the finger pier extending along our boat. Our life is magical here. Dreaming is good, as long as you don’t lose yourself in the future. There is plenty of time for future plans, but today will be over at sundown.
I am seeing things in pale blues and bright greens again…….not in the grays and washed out colors of winter storms.
Meatloaf can be delicious if you know how to spice it up.
The water is warm finally. What does this mean to me? Well, it means I ventured into the water and surfed this past weekend. Really surfed. I held my place in the lineup, and was able to charge like my old pre-baby birthing self. I think I even yelled “Mine” a few times. Oh man, it felt so good.
Bill might have even given me a fist bump over a Mexican feast that evening at our favorite post beach restaurant.
Cory mouthed the word “Cool” and smiled, which says much, as he usually has very little to say.
I wonder what my kids think about having parents like us? We surf, talk to them, laugh with them, cry with them and discipline them here and there when they need it. I can’t imagine having parents that would actually get in the ocean, let alone paddle out on a surf board. I wonder if they think we are weird? I know we are weird, but maybe we have them fooled.
The above pic is one I am printing. It will hang on the left of our entertainment system. On the right is an identical one of his father.
On Friday, our family had the absolute pleasure of meeting one of the surf communities true legends, Robert August.
When he was 18, Robert August and his friend Mike Hynson were documented in the filmThe Endless Summer produced by Bruce Brown, as they circled the globe following summer and finding surf that had never been ridden before.
Meeting him was a pleasure, as he is just such a nice person. He is a vacation local here, and spent the late morning talking with us,
and Mia enjoyed playing with his daughter.
He signed Cory’s cap, and a shirt for me. We were going surfing after the visit and had our boards in the truck so I was all “You HAVE to ask him to sign your board, Bill! How cool would that be??”, but Bill kept waving me off. I finally bullied him into allowing Robert to sign his board. Bill now has a Robert August surfboard, signed by Robert August himself. Too cool.
Thank you Robert for your hospitality and kindness. We might just take you up on Costa Rica this summer.
Isn’t she flippin’ adorable? I know, right? She is much sweeter than that cake, and she is now a big 5 year old. Whoosh!!!!! it went by fast.
We are all fine here, just really busy with everything. Birthday parties, MRSA infections, sprained ankles, robberies next door (we are fine, just shaken up…will post about it later), installing alarm systems, hormonal teen, hormonal Mom, travel, blah, blah, blah!
Something interesting happened while life was going on…..I sort of gave up the computer. Not because someone told me to, or influenced me. I just sort of stopped logging in. And I liked it. Instead of being glued to a laptop on and off during the day, I am cooking, cleaning, organizing, hitting the beach, going for coffee with my friends, shopping, and LISTENING to my kids. What a novel idea! I noticed that my patience level has risen exponentially in relation to my time spent offline. I have also noticed that I got out of my shell and have starting engaging with the people in my town.
I do get online still, but mostly via my iTouch. I read my e-mail, check my Google Reader, and I am done. It takes me about 30-45 minutes and that is it…..which leaves me hours and hours and hours of time to be a good wife, mom and friend. It is so very fine.
No, no, I am not shutting the blog down. No way. I like blogging too much. Just putting it in its proper place in my reordered priorities. Posts to come will include the MRSA story, how my neighbor got robbed while she and I were out for coffee, cool pillows, and how I know that yogurt does not bounce well. ;*)
In the meantime, log off. You are not missing anything folks. It is like All My Children……….you can stop watching it for 10 years, and when you finally tune in to it, Erica Kane will not have aged a bit and will still be raising hell.
Sometimes, this is what sailing looks like….
A bright, sunny day, winds 10-15mph, bathing suits on! We load up, cast off, and begin motoring out to the bay.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. The engine alarm starts screeching. We look aft and see steam coming out. Steam is better than black smoke, but not what you want to see. It means that water is not being pumped into the engine to keep it cooled.
We heave to, head back, go through the routine of docking the boat and take the engine hood off to see what is what.
It is hot down below, and Bill loves to dig around in an over heated diesel engine on his day off.
I hang over the engine asking questions, trying to learn. Bill cuts his arm up trying to reach to the back of the diesel, and doesn’t even notice the bleeding.
After about 30 minutes, he finds 2 problems, fixes them, and I am saying “How did you know to look for that. Is it a recessive gene for diesel engine repair that I am lacking?” because, all of it bewilders me.
So, with the engine repaired, we cast off and head back out…..by this time Bill is channeling Captain Bligh because The Mood has been set. Cory and Bill set sails, with me at the helm, and the rule of “you must respond to my commands instantaneously or be yelled at” is put into action by El Capitán and I have flashbacks to those intense, gut wrenching days of racing Galveston Bay with Those Who Must Win At The Cost of Fun. I momentarily think about pushing him overboard.
Then The Wind From Hell picks up, we heal over and are a bit over powered since we failed to reef the main. Since I am already a bundle of nerves, this is the moment my youngest son (life jacket on of course) decides to go up on the foredeck and send me over the edge. Bill, feeling much less Blighish, tells him to stop and give mom a break and get back in the cockpit. Child back off deck, Bill apologizes for yelling……….
But, like I said, the Mood has been set, and I was ready to go back in. I was DONE. It was not fun.
Not everything we do together as a family is perfect. Some days are just doomed from the get go. Just because we live at the beach does not mean that life is perfect. Some days are as close to perfection as a mortal can get, no doubt….but others are what they are. Challenging, but certainly not devastating.
Once back home, kids fed and in their rooms playing, Bill and I shut the door to our bedroom, take showers and put a movie in. I grabbed some yummy smelling, after sun lotion. You know, the kind with coconut, lime and all kinds of delicious scents. I climbed onto our bed and stopped to look around and catch my breath. The shades were closed, the light was filtering in through the cracks in the blinds. Bill was kicked back on the bed, clean and fresh, tan against the snow white bedspread. I sat lathering lotion on my arms as the movie started and realized that, in spite of how the day had gone, here we were…happy and content.
The craziness and the joys are what make the variety in your life. I am learning that you choose which one to focus on. It is like taking a picture….you can, photograph what is lovely or you can focus your lens on the ugliness. It is your choice.
It has come to my attention that our President has decided to rescind a law called the Conscience Clause.
The Conscience clause, originally called the Church Amendment, was put into effect shortly after the Roe vs Wade case, and is supported by both political parties. It allows for medical personnel to refuse to participate in an abortion if it is against their conscience.
By rescinding this law, the message that President Obama is sending out is this…Only those who chose abortion have rights. Those same constitutional rights, the right to choose, are not extended to everyone, but only to a few. If Obama has his way, my constitutional right to refuse to participate in an abortion will put me in jail and I will lose my license to practice nursing. This means that if I work for a state funded hospital or clinic (which means anyone receiving Medicaid or Medicare) I will be required to participate in a procedure that I find unethical and against everything I believe in. This is unreal.
I personally would rather surrender my RN license than participate in this absolulely barbaric procedure.
Which brings health reform to a new level. If Obama thinks he has a health care crisis now, wait until he jacks with the very doctors who lovingly provide care to millions in our country. Or how about all the private, rural hospitals that will close their doors before being forced to perform abortions? Talk about a health crisis. Lord have mercy, this is huge people.
I am sure you know that doctors are required to take the Hippocratic Oath. This oath is a solemn vow taken in which the doctor promises that they will “do no harm”. Did you know that the original wording stated “I will not give a woman an abortion remedy.” You can read the modern version here and much more in this great article.
I would like to pose this dilemma to you this way: You may support choice. You may say that it is up to the mother to decide if she wants to abort of not. But what if you were told today ”I am 22 weeks pregnant, and I don’t want this baby. Thank you for supporting my right to choose….now scrub up and perform my abortion.” Yeah, it gets a bit more complicated when you put it that way. For those of you who have no medical background, it might be easier to support something you know very little about medically. It is a messy, ugly thing, and you should thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to participate in the killing of a 2nd trimester baby. Ideology gets complicated when you are forcedto participate, which is what rescinding this law will do to me. As an OB nurse, I will be forced to participate in something that I personally find unethical and morally wrong.
I am very obviously Pro-Life. I am also one of the people that this law will effect adversely. So are you. If your President is allowed to do this, your rights to expedient, reliable health care will have its scope narrowed substantially.
Please go here and sign this petition if you support my right to choose. This will not effect yourright to choose, but it will effect mine. It would be hypocritical to support a woman’s right to choose abortion, but not my right to refuse to participate. I understand not everyone thinks the same way, and there are many different views on this, but I personally see abortion as the killing of an innocent life. In that light, I believe if I were to assist in an abortion, I would be involved in killing another human being. Um, yeah, that is something I cannot do.
I am an excellent nurse. I have never, in my entire 15 year carrier as an RN, made even one medication error. I will lovingly clean your festering, infected and contagious wound. I will enter your room to care for you as you hack TB all around it. I will wipe your head and hold you up as you vomit. I will coach you and rejoice with you as you give birth to new life, and I will hold your hand and cry as you take your last breath. I am an angel of mercy, but I will not participate in your abortion. I will surrender my license, the license that I worked my tail end off to earn, before I compromise my core beliefs. My inbox is receiving many emails from doctors and nurses who are professing the same.
When that happens, there will be one less nurse to care for you in a competent and loving manner. Now multiply it times 14, 000 or more. We are already experiencing a shortage of medical care professionals ….what is this President thinking???
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***adding some more info and links that will be useful to you: Here is the full government text of what is being rescinded:
Apparently, numerous lawsuits had been initiated against practitioners who had refused abortion or sterilization service to individuals. Employees and students were being discriminated against for refusing abortion instruction, in spite of the Church, Coats and Weldon acts.. It had become quite a problem, especially with the aggression in which Planned Parenthood was seeking unlimited access to these procedures. They were also saying that Roe and Casey gave the right to a woman to receive these procedures from
whomever they chose. Roe and Casey DO NOT preempt Church, Coats and Weldon.
The law that is being rescinded is CRF 45 Part 88 and it defines and makes mandatory the compliance with Church, Coats and Weldon that was being ignored prior to this Title. Removing it will open the door to continued discrimination against health care individuals, students and others who practice conscience objection.
BTW, conscience objection in the health care field is not a bad thing, nor is it new. If a nurse refuses to administer blood products due to conscience objection, there are ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS others on duty to administer the blood products without compromising patient safety. In the 15 years I have spent as a nurse, I have never seen a patients health compromised by conscience objection and I have seen nurses peacefully practice this right. There are other laws, such as the Nurse Practice Act that do NOT allow for conscience objection if the patients safety is in jeopardy, and CRF 45 Part 88 cannot trump them. SO the argument to patient safety is really null and void.
It has been 2 + months since Quinn went back to school, and since I can now talk about it without bawling, I thought an update was in order.
The first week he went back was Rough. Day one went well, but the rest of the week both of us were in tears. He missed me, and I missed him. There was also the issue of his teacher. She has a very dry sense of humor, and this is hard for an 8yo to understand. For Quinn, it came across that she was mean. So, we met with the counselor, talked with the teacher, and carried on.
Within a week or 2, he was well adjusted, happy and LOVED his teacher. His grades are in the uppr 90’s-100’s, he is reading on a 5th grade level and most improtantly, he is having a blast. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that the schooling we did at home didn’t just keep him up with his class, he surpassed the 2nd grade in every area save for spelling (he is on target for his age). Whew. So, all is well with my little Quinny.
Me? I miss him still. If he wanted to come home, that would be fine with me. But there is one thing……I am really enjoying some one on one time with Mia. We spend our days together doing crafts, some worksheets, going to the beach, shopping and whatever we feel like. It has been a nice, silver lining to a tough desicion.
I am now trying to decide if Mia will start Kindergarten at the end of August. She wants to and then she doesn’t. She talks about it all the time, because the 3 little girls next door that she plays with all go to school. We have several options to chose from….just not sure I want her to go at all. We have started a nice little homeschool co-op here, and she is meeting some sweet little girls who are also in her ballet class.
On the one hand, it would be nice after 14 1/2 years to have some time to myself during the day. I could load up my board and go surfing in the mornings. Exercise could be a daily thing again. Billy and I could have alone time every day at lunch and on his 1/2 weekday off.
On the other hand, my anxiety level with Mia is so intense, I am not sure if I could send her out to the care of others all day without flipping a gasket. And the plan and simple truth is that I just enjoy being with her. I am not sure I want to give that up.
Anyhow, there we are in regards to school. Oh, and for something to really weird you out…..we just registered Cory for high school. HIGH SCHOOL!!! Insane.
Another cold front is on the way, I have been informed. After a glorious week of blue skies and warmth, I am very much over winter now. I would like some serious heat….oh, somewhere in the 90’s will do…..to cook all the virus bugs floating around infecting at will.
Yes, Texas winters tend to be mild. Yes, I know it is -20 somewhere up above the Lone Star state. The thing is, we enjoy our heat here, and would like for the cold to quit blowing through now, thankyouverymuch. Get the gone, Arctic Cold Fronts. You sucketh. Bring on the scorching Texas summer, baby. If you are a sissy who can’t handle the heat and complains about it, well, Texas ain’t for sissies. Buh bye.
Mia is so much better today. She was one sick little girl and 5 sleepless nights in a row have taken their toll on us. Now I have it, and would like to blame He Who Comes Home From The Clinic And Does Not Change His Clothes Upon Walking In The Door, but that would only be because I am cranky and sick. Also because he went surfing today AGAIN and I could not go. *cough*jerk*cough* ;*)
In spite of high fevers since Wednesday, she will have memories of snuggling down in the great big bed with fluffy pillows, a mug of ginger ale, all her favorite movies on Mommy’s TV, and lots of love and attention.
Bill and I took turns staying with the sick one and were each able to get out of the house for a short time. Yesterday I hit Lowe’s for paver bricks, plants and pond equipment and on Saturday afternoon we made a pond for the turtles and some koi fish. Family came for dinner, and at around 9pm Mia’s fever spiked to 105. 105!*
Today we are still battling the fever, but it seems Motrin is finally winning….or the antibiotics are kicking in. A big huge THANK YOU!! to the “evil” pharmaceutical companies who make these drugs to keep my children alive and feeling better. Charge what you need so you can continue to do research and find cures for the illnesses that harm us. I will pay whatever it takes.
*Antibiotics on board (just in case due to the high fever), but it is likely the flu and will just have to run it’s course.
It is March. This is more of a question, than a statement. I think I missed February. While the rest of the world had one, I spent the month in limbo waiting for my better half to feel better. It is tough when he feels bad. Not only do I worry, but there is also that element of his usually happy go lucky attitude being on vacation. In it’s place is the quiet, subdued one that sleeps and watches Napoleon Dynamite over and over again. GOSH I prefer the Bill that is constantly groping me, pulling my hair in my face (annoying) and being a complete pest. When he does these things, he is feeling good. When he does not, well that is usually my first sign that all is not well.
It seems for the last 4-5 days all is right again….or it might be that he isn’t telling me he feels bad, but he is my pesky man again. At least he can make himself a dang quesadilla now (if you have not seen Napoleon Dynamite do yourself a favor and watch it. My family is now a family of ND one liners).
So, I skip from January to March. This month will be filled with sunshine, beach weather, oysters, sailing, surfing and tan children frolicking in the sand.
P.S. Thank you all for your comments and support. It makes such a huge difference to be able to come here and write about it and know that those of you who have been readers since the beginning can understand and support us.
It was in the upper 70’s today, and even the birds were jazzed. I may or may not have spread a quilt out in the backyard and read a book in my bathing suit….with my husband.
Hi! All is well, all is well. My computer just decided to die on me, casting me into the hell that is Dell customer support…..and I use the term hell loosely.
What I would like to say is much too harsh for your fragile ears. The bright side of it is after going through 3 techs, I finally found my Dell customer support match made in heaven…or India (edit to add, the man was living doll, a life saver and a pure genius). Let’s just say that I really feel like I know Antonio a bit too well. I mean, spending 8 hours on the phone with someone you do not know and watching them take control of your computer remotely and crawling all over your files feels like someone digging through your unmentionables drawer.
Antonio knows that I am a photographer. He knows I have 4 kids, like the ocean and what time I have to pick everyone up for school. I, in turn, know that Antonio is a DJ in his spare time, likes nightclubs and has a sister who is a photographer. When I asked what she likes to photograph, the following converstion insued:
Me: so what does your sister like to photograph?
A (insert Indian accent): Well, right now she is in Egypt shooting the pyramids.
Me (watching my mouse arrow move magiacally across my Safe Mode screen): Oh my, is she on vacation?
A: No, she is doing it for her job.
Me: Oh, so she is a pro?
A: Yes….have you heard of a company called The National Geograhic?
(crickets chirping)
Um, yes. Antonio’s sister is a pro shooter for National Geographic magazine. She spends more time directing the 23 photograpers under her, than actually shooting these days. Right now she is on assignment in Egypt doing a story on the pyramids. When Antonio was 5, she bought him a digital camera, and he dropped it in the dirt….she had told him not do get it dirty, so he washed it off in the sink. She was so angry at him. He never picked up a camera again.
(insert sound of my silent screams)
The temperatures were very warm in India on the day that I spent almost $200 and 480 minutes of my resources trying to rescue my computer.
There are more discos in America than India.
DJ’s are rare in India.
My daugter ate a bag full of lollipops while I talked with Antonio.
My daughter has had a stomach ache since then.
And I am back with a new hard drive, and the realization that the reason I have hated Windows Vista since the day that I got my new computer in January of 2008 is because my hard drive came to me corrupted. It wasn’t because Microsoft sucks….it was because Dell does. If it were not for Antonio, my computer would still be dead. But the other techs need to be re-trained at the very least.
In other news, the sun came out today. That glorious orb of magic that warms the planet. Oh my, I plan on climbing into my string bikini (it is not a pretty sight, but damn the torpedos, full speed ahead), spreading a big quilt out in my backyard and reading a good book. Sailing season is upon us, and I might be mistaken for a flare if I don’t get a bit of sun.
I have more to say, but for now I need to engage in real life, and disengage the Wifi.
Have a glorious weekend my little, imaginary friends!
We didn’t celebrate on the 14th because Billy wasn’t feeling well. So, today we went to the clinic and Billy removed a spot on my shoulder (nothing says “I love you” like freezing off a crusty carcinoma from your honey) and then went to the boat for 4 hours of uninterrupted time together to talk and visit. It was just what I needed. That and the 4 glasses of red wine. And the chocolate cupcake with vanilla and strawberry butter cream frosting. x2.
And this….which is 100x sweeter than any cupcake could ever be.
To drink a frozen cocktail in a plastic cup is a shame and should be a last resort. A brilliant cocktail glass sets the mood and makes lime taste as you remember it…freshly sliced and lightly salted in a palapa on a deserted beach along the shores of Cozumel. The frosty blue of the glass echoes all the brilliant colors of the coast. You run your finger through the condensation on the glass and long for the heat and sunshine that come with latitudes below 27°. You recall intimate conversations, your heads bent toward each other in conspiracy, as you talk of plans for the future.
Ambiance starts with a lovely glass in which to pour it into. Good company makes it come alive.
This is my youngest sons spot at the dinner table a few nights ago. It always looks like this. You should have seen the floor. Again, typical.
When Quinn was excused from the dinner table that night, Billy turned to me and said “Look at Quinn’s spot. It looks like Henry the 8th ate there.” He then grabbed the chicken leg and pretended to rip meat off of it. With a slurred voice, sounding like it was stuffed with food and had a bad British accent, he said “Awf with their haeds” and pretended to throw the chicken leg on the ground.
Viking blood runs through my side of the family. I can only guess that Quinn got his fair share of it.
What we found upon returning from a parents night out eating sushi, drinking Asahi beer, and laughing with a couple that we run into each and every time we hit this amazing little sushi bar.
It is always good to get out, but the best part is returning, refreshed, to a sight like the one above.
It was in the 80’s here this weekend, so we went to the beach. Heaven, I tell you. Blue skies, bright sun, warm sand. It is supposed to be this way all week. Unreal.
Mia was so full of joy she just started dancing on the beach.
She spun round and round
and round
Spreading her arms out
And enjoying the amazing January summer
I wonder if she was thinking in her little head, “I can’t believe I live here!”
Please ignore her dirty finger nails. A girl with 3 big brothers has a way of finding herself playing in the dirt from time to time.
She speaks no evil though, and wants to let you know the blawg will be updated again next week when her mother doesn’t feel so overwhelmed with nothing and everything.
Have a fab weekend, and everyone up thar in the great north…snuggle in and stay warm.
Cody got a skimmer board for Christmas, and it has changed his entire perspective about going to the beach.
Before this epic, random purchase, Cody rarely got wet when we went lately. Sure, he played in the sand, ran down the beach, raced hermit crabs, climbed all over the rocks at the jetty and enjoyed himself somewhat, but he preferred to stay high and dry. It was like he hit a certain age and the water no longer appealed to him…………..or it could have been the fact that he saw Jaws on TV. Or maybe Shark Week really got to him. Not sure, but when your family basically lives for beach time, it is a drag if you are not all that into it.
So, while shopping at the local surf shop, we grabbed a skimmer and thought, “well if Cody won’t use it, someone will”.
We found his button, and I do believe another surf rat has been born. That makes 4 for 4 now.
Oh, a wondrous bird is the pelican!
His bill holds more than his belican.
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week.
But I’m darned if I know how the helican.
Dixon Lanier Merritt – “The Pelican”(1910)
My bill holds plenty. There is a point though, in which it can not hold anymore, and stuff spills out.
I am a firm believer in “if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all’. I don’t succeed all the time, but I try very hard to be positive here and in my life.
Do me a favor. If your bill holds more than your belican, jot down your frustrations and then throw them in the trash….. then dance nekkid around them until they lose their power over you. ;*)
Ugly thoughts about others should not be spilled out of your mind and into your mouth or keyboard like a gumball dropping out of a gumball machine. It is not good for you, for me, or for the hearts and minds of others who hear or read about it. Negativity breeds negativity. It is a vicious thing folks, and you just don’t want to kindle it in yourself or others.
“Avoid destructive thinking. Improper negative thoughts sink people. A ship can sail around the world many, many times, but just let enough water get into the ship and it will sink. Just so with the human mind. Let enough negative thoughts or improper thoughts get into the human mind and the person sinks just like a ship.” Alfred A Montapert
One after another, cold fronts are marching through our coast. They make some great waves for the Surfer dude, but the cold they bring is crazy. Warm, cold, warm, cold, warm, cold.
I was hoping this last one would blow out all traces of the flu, but no dice, our family is dropping like flies every 3-5 days. The bad part is that the ones that drop are remaining ill along with the newly infected. I am still sick. Like in feeling so weak a trip to the store to get milk just about did me in. And now Billy is down. Down like a rock. Both parents ill is such a bummer.
I will try and post something later in the week about our Christmas, but until then, may the flu pass you by my friends. It is one mean strain this year.
I love our little church. The people in it are so very sweet and have welcomed us in with open arms. We love how, after the service if over, the pastor says “now lets all go have some gooood cookies!!” and we all file out into the large narthex and enjoy homemade cookies together.
Last night was the first ever, in the 12 years since our church was founded, Christmas pageant. See, almost all of the members are older retirees, and when we walked in the door one Sunday morning in August, every member turned to stare at the children. We quickly noticed that ours were the ONLY children in this church. But it felt like home when we went, so each Sunday we returned, and were greeted every time with love and enthusiasm.
Back in late October, one of the members approached me and asked if we would like to participate in a Christmas pageant. I was all for that! So, the ladies of our little church went to action. They hand sewed beautiful costumes for us all, and made all the props and organized everything.
Today, I am thankful that Mia and I were feeling good enough to be there. It was very stressful when we got so sick close to the day of the pageant, as our family made up 1/2 of the participants!
Bill and I were Mary and Joseph, the boys were shepherds and wise men, Cory read the scripture, and Mia was an angel. There were also 6 other children participating.
Lots of people came to see this Christmas play, and afterward there was spiced cider, cookies and everyone was so happy. The ladies sewed all the boys stockings, and made the little girls each a special pillow. They also hand sewed all the children Christmas bags with bells attached and filled them with candy, an orange and an apple. It was a true celebration of the Christmas story and everyone was just gushing about it.
Back in October, after we had joined the church, we started to receive the church bulletin, and one day we read something like this in the pastors note at the front:
“Our church family has wanted children, for years we have prayed for children, and now the Lord has blessed us with children!!”
Yes, he has. And He has blessed our family with the loveliest church family ever. Because you know, that is really what it is all about. People loving people. It is why Christ came. It is why we follow Him.
To be like Him and to bring love to each other.
It is as simple as that if you believe and live it with all of your heart and soul.
Down with the flu. It is simply awesome to have the flu (sore throat, barfing, poops) and have your 4yo sit up in bed and puke everywhere. Words fail me. I mean, I never thought nausea could reach such a magnitude. It does and I pray that I never experience it again.
Then your fabulous husband comes to the rescue and baths 4yo while you, in a Phenergan induced stupor, strip the bed, clean the floors, walls and doors (didn’t make the bathroom) while he washes and comforts the tiny one.
I am somewhat relieved to be getting it over with, as I have been coming down with this for 2 weeks now, so to finally get on with it makes me know the end is in sight.
For me.
Now we wait as the other 4 brew.
Tonight is my husbands work Christmas party. I can’t tell you how much I have been looking forward to it. It certainly looks like I will be missing it, unless I have a miraculous turn around.
On the bright side, maybe we won’t be doing this on Christmas day!!
The great folks at Lands End sent me a few things to try out with my family.
For me, some Womens Regular Terry Travel Slippers with their own little satin bag. Sizing for me is always a pain, but these fit me perfectly. They are soft, and will be perfect on the boat and in the trailer so that I don’t have to walk through sand when I get up in the morning to make coffee. The soles are also non-skid, so again perfect for the boat.
Bill: They are soft, and very warm….and they make alot of noise when I walk.
Me: So they are noisy? Could it be that you are dragging your feet across the tile when you walk in an attempt to annoy me?
Bill: Could be.
Me: Well, at least the kids will hear you coming and hide their DS’s under the covers.
Me: Do you like them?
Bill: Yeah.
Me: So….will you continue to wear them?
Bill: Um-huh. As long as it is cold outside.
Me: So that’s all you have to say? Nothing funny or clever or cute?
Bill: Yes. No.
And there you have it folks. The male version of a product review on a blog.
Quinn snuggled up in this Boy’s Fleece Pajama Set. Again, a perfect fit and he loves them. They are warm and toasty, and super soft. He ran around in them all evening the first night, and didn’t want to take them off to go to school (school is a long story I will share after the holidays). The little penguin is adorable, and the jammies are very well made. At first I thought they would be too warm for our climate, but he says they are not too warm at all.
Now, if you will leave a comment telling me which of the above 3 you would chose if you had your pick, I will randomly pick a winner and have the item of your choice, color and size shipped directly to you from Lands End.
Now, go! You have until 9p.m. Thursday to leave a comment and let me know which item you would choose if you were to win. I will announce a winner Friday morning.
Mia had the opportunity to review a new toy by the WordWorld an Emmy-winning PBS show for kids ages 3-5. The WordWorld toys are designed to bridge the gap between letter recognition and learning to read, and a study funded by the U.S. Department of Education demostrated that the WordWorld television series works as an early childhood literacy tool.
The play mat is magnetized, and the child plays with little magnetic WordThing mini-puzzles. Included are six 3-D WordMagnets, 6 flat WordMagnets and a 2-sided fold-and-go mat.
On one side, is a pond scene, and the little magnets spell out things like “canoe” “turtle” and “frog”.
The other side is an ocean floor scene, and you can play with a crab, fish and use a little net to scoop them up. She played quietly on the floor with this set while I went about my morning clean up. I could hear her sounding out the work “crab” and matching the sounds to the letters on the crab. It was really awesome.
When you are finished playing, everything is stored in a little pouch connected to the mat, so the pieces don’t fall out when you are on the go.
Then fold the mat up, and off you go.
We will be keeping this on the boat. It is a perfect size, not to mention that it is flat, so stepping on it barefoot while healed over won’t send screams of agony across the bay.
Mia likes it because it was fun and has a turtle, her favorite animal. I like it because it is a nice, quiet toy that actually does what it says. Mia is learning how to spell, and using phonics quite a bit, so this fits perfectly with where she is in relation to reading, so it hit the mark for it’s targeted age group and its goal to to bridge the gap between letter recognition and learning to read.
Mia and I recently visited a shell shop here in town, and on the tree was a string of lights that the owner had made, with shells attached to each light.
It was just way too cute, and I decided right then and there that we would make one for our house. I have wanted to put some white lights above our kitchen cabinets and leave them up all year to give a nice glow in the evening while I prepare our dinner. A glass of wine, some glittering lights and the witching hour complete with tired children falling apart left and right. Folks, it is all about ambiance.
So, I talked with the shell lady, and she told us how to create our own.
Now a word to the wise on your supplies. Some of the shells I used are a bit pricey, especially if you make a large string. One way to save money, of course, is to collect your own shells. You will still have to buy the large, delicate, puffy sand dollars at $2 each if you decide you want to use them, but most of the others can be collected at the beach if you are coasties. As for the rest of the supplies, you will need a string of lights (I used a 50 light string bought for $1.69), and a glue gun. That is it!
Now, I did not want a shell on each light ($$$$$$), so I glued one to every other light in the string. I laid the sting out, and as you can sort of see in the above image, the individual lights naturally go one up, one down. I glued a shell to all the “downs” to keep it even.
By doing this, if you string them in a straight line across a cabinet top, the shells will all fall evenly and you won’t have to manipulate the string much……which can be a pain when you have little $2 a piece, paper thin shells clanging against each other.
Put a glob of glue on the main body of the light, just above where the bulb is inserted.
With the puffy sand dollars, the opening on top is usually large enough for the bulb, but if it is not, with a razor blade gently “shave” the opening large enough. Be very careful as they are fragile.
It took Mia and I less than 30 minutes to complete our string of shell lights.
Now we have some glittering, homemade lights to make the kitchen more festive this Christmas and beyond.
Our winner is Mindy!! Congratulations! I will get that out as soon as I can! Enjoy it, and thanks to the folks at SmartShopper Electronics for hosting this give away!
mindy Dec 9th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
I’ve been trying to be nice this year! I don’t really want much for Christmas, seeing my one-year old’s Christmas joy will be enough for me! I could really use this gadget, I’m pregnant and seem to have lost my brain! If I don’t win I’ll have to tell my hubby this is on my wish list!
I received an e-mail asking if I would like to review the SmartShopper over the holidays, and after clicking on the link, realized that this gadget might just make me a better person.
See, I have a big problem. I forget things. Like, all the time. We will run out of trash bags, and Bill will say “We are out of trash bags”, which translates to “Please get trash bags the next time you go to the store” and then the rest is a blur. I will go to the store, and buy everything BUT trash bags. Then a day later I will go to the store again, and come home with 10lbs of oranges that were on sale, but no trash bags.
The trash? It becomes the big, pink elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about. We start using those tiny plastic grocery bags in our 30 gallon trash can. I sneak the big stuff to the outside trash can, like a drunk hiding her bottles, and vow to remember TRASH BAGS when I go to the store the next time.
Then the incredible happens. I go, and come home with $230 in groceries and, you guessed it, NO TRASH BAGS.
And Bill starts sighing heavily. Every time he has to throw something away I feel the weight of the trash bags on my shoulders.
I am completely blond to the bone.
The Smart Shopper is an electronic grocery list organizer. You can add items to your grocery list by pushing “record” and speaking into the machine. It searches the huge data base of 2500 items already pre-loaded into the machine, displays the object of desire, and you press “select” and it adds the item to your list!
I placed mine on my refrigerator (it has magnets built in on the back….very handy) and whenever I come across something I need, I tell it to the SmartShopper, and keep a running list.
When I am ready to head to the store, I select my list (you can keep 2 at the same time) and I hit “print”. The list is printed out, with items organized by categories such as “Dairy” “Canned Goods” “Fresh Produce” and many more. There is also a category called “Errands” where you can list the places you need to visit such as the bank, library, pharmacy or the ever important liquor store. Awesomeness!!
You can even add custom items to the already enormous library. Other additional features are the ability to designate item quantities, flagging for coupons and there is a cooking timer ta boot!! Also, the unit has a magnetic back so you can mount it on your refrigerator. If you have a stainless refrigerator, there are mounting screws included for wall mounting. Or, just leave it on the counter if you like.
I am really enjoying mine. Do you want one??? I am totally pleased to say that in addition to sending me one to review, I was given one to pass on to my readers. Included in this give away will be the unit, 3 rolls of printing paper, grocery item booklet, quick start guide and wall mounting kit.
So, if you would like to win a free Smart Shopper just post a comment below and tell me….do you think you made Santa’s naughty or nice list this year, and what would you like for him to bring you. You have until midnight on Sunday to leave a comment and I will announce a winner on Monday morning!
Naughty or nice? I bet it was nice.
Edit to add: If you are wanting to buy the SmartShopper as a gift, the coupon code for $5 off is: JB94528 This is good through December 31st.
Many, many things went into making this decision. The biggest of which was that he wanted to go. Badly. He has been asking for months.
Why? He wants to be with his friends. He misses school. And this breaks my heart.
It has not been a smooth ride this year. Quinn is a child that is full of energy and very stubborn. In regards to doing the work, we were constantly toe to toe, nose to nose in a battle of the wills.
Don’t get me wrong. There were many, many, many days that were priceless and precious. More great ones than trying ones. But the hard ones were putting a strain on our relationship. A big strain. We were cranky with each other much of the time. It was changing our relationship in a way that I did not like, and after much agonizing and fretting, we decided to let him try school again. Try is the key here, for me. He will go for the first part of December, and we will decide over the holidays if it is the right thing for him.
This year at home has been unreal in a great way. In the time we had together, Quinn worked through the entire Saxon grade 2 program, learning so very much. It was amazing to watch. How many second graders can do multiplication and find Sicily on a map….not to mention the Tigris and Euphrates river? He read Marco Polo, Robert Lewis Stevenson, among many others, and is now starting a book about Genghis Khan.
We worked through Sonlight Core 1+2, and I have no intention of ending it there. I will order 3+4 and dive into American History with my kids as well.
I am really, really in a tender spot here, so this is not up to discussion. It is a decision that Billy and I made together at Quinn’s prompting, and we know him better than anyone. I am just really sad today, and being the self-flagellator that I am, have to wonder where I failed.
Quinn keeps patting me on the back and hugging me, saying “Mom, we will still read together when I get home. It will be fine. Don’t worry.” And then I cry. And cry. And cry some more.
I walked him to his class this morning, and he was smiling and so very happy. He saw someone he knew, and ran to sit with them, leaving me in the dust.
I had my sunglasses on and there were tears rolling down my face. I miss my Quinny.
Saturday Billy and I watched as our son zipped on a wetsuit vest and entered the chilly water to go surfing. *GASP*
Billy said “Now he doesn’t just look like the ultimate surf rat”.
You really have to love surfing to go out after a cold front hits. I mean, it is a suffer fest like no other, and not an activity for those who “say” they are surfers. You can “dude” me up and down, and wear all the right clothes, but until you step into a wet, cold wetsuit, all I see is “KOOK”.
Only a masochistic, addicted surfer would wade out into the Gulf during a cold front.
When Billy comes out of the water after a winter session, his body is cold to the touch for hours afterward. It lowers your body temp that much. I love the way it feels to wrap myself around him after a winter surf session to warm him up. His skin is cool and tastes salty, his face is flushed, and he chatters on and on about the waves. Mmmm. (sigh)
Oh, where was I? Oh yeah. Ahem.
So, to see our son wading out into the chilly surf, we knew he was hooked.
It only took 14 years of watching us to finally feel the stoke. I was pretty sure it would not happen as he was fairly ticked off at us for moving here. I know he avoided the water the fist year for the most part just to spite us. The problem is, it is in his blood, and the kid just didn’t have a chance. He had to surrender to the pull of Nemo.
Now the big question……did I zip up and wade out into the cold-ass ocean for some surf? Not this time. No way. You see, I don’t think my wetsuit fits anymore. I bought it when I was 24 and weighed something like 105 lbs dripping wet. Wetsuits are meant to be tight, but not as tight as I imagine this one will be on me 20 years later. And, no, I won’t go surfing in a bikini and rash guard when the water temp is 65 degrees and the air temp is in the 50-60’s. Brrrrr.
I did try some on at the surf shop and I happen to know that Santa was watching.
I was walking down the beach, looking for sand dollars, when my eye caught the unmistakable, triangular shape in the sand. I blinked, because, great God in Heaven, it couldn’t be. It was just too big. I have found other shark teeth, but they were tiny by comparison. No, this had to be a piece of charcoal or something…..
I reached down and picked it up, and when I felt the smooth, sharp object there was no denying that it was indeed a shark tooth A huge, heavy, black tooth.
When I brought it back to show everyone, Billy could not believe it. Impossible. But it was in his hands. No doubt it was a big shark.
Later that day we hit the local surf shops. In one, they had some shark tooth necklaces in a display case. They were new teeth, but none as big as the one I found. Bill called me over to a set of jaws, and it was easily 2 foot wide, but the teeth were smaller than the one we had.
One tooth on display was shiny white, and looked similiar to ours. It was labeled “Great White Shark”, and it was much smaller than ours as well.
Great White’s will frequent the Gulf from time to time. No doubt about this. But, this tooth was really large, and black. I could not recall a shark with black teeth from my icthyology days.
When we got home, I walked to our neighbor who is a marine biologist getting his PhD. When I held out my hand to show him what I had found he exclaimed “Where did you find that. That is marvelous” and he took it from my hand and weighed it with his own. “This is a fossil shark tooth” he said, “very heavy. It is probably a great white, but maybe even more ancient. I have looked for something like this for years and have not found one. What a lucky find!!”
I got online and found this. Mine sure looks like the black one pictured.
So, in all probability it is a Great White, 3MYA.
Holy cow.
By far, the coolest thing I have ever found at the beach.
———————–
BTW, last week I wrote a post for Chris at her Ordering Disorder website. Are you following her recipes and tips there? They are mawvelous. Easy to follow and a breeze to cook. I have a really tough time committing myself to recipes that are time consuming, so the ones she posts are yummy, simple and just right for a busy mom.
Go check out her site, and try Harvest Beef Stew. Mmmmmmmmm!! I make it at least once a week and there are no leftovers!
We made our sneaky getaway last Tuesday. Destination, where else??? La playa!
We made a full Thanksgiving meal in the Little House, and spent the day surfing and beach combing. We arrived home safe and sound just a few hours ago, and we are all bushed.
More manana when my love is back at work. Computer time while he is home is taboo here and I need to make myself comfy in his lap some more before he puts his monkey suit back on in the morning.
Remind me to tell you about the best thing I have ever found while shell hunting. Trust me, you will never guess. It is ancient and so cool my son spent the entire day combing the shore looking for something cool enough that I might trade with him.
Unbelievable. Is it really Thanksgiving week? Gah! What the heck?
I have been completely completely captivated by the Twilight series books for the last week and 1/2 and Bill had to drag me out of the house to go surfing yesterday. I am on the last 100 pages of the 4th book and I forced myself to put it down and go. What can I say. They are really intriguing. The whole crush, tingling when he touches me, infatuation part I can totally relate to. I still feel that way after over 20 years with my guy. Bill is my Edward, minus the vampire part. Mmmmm.
So, be sure and read them. They were very fun to dive into, but now I am looking up from my Edward/Bella induced coma and see all sorts of craziness that has been neglected..
I have 3 days to shop, plan my meals, and figure out how to cook a Turkey in a space reserved for a chicken….or a hen.
This week will be a blur for me, but I hope to post some fun stuff later in the week.
Until then I thought I would give an update on the most spoiled turtles in America. Mertle and Nertle, or whatever their names are this week.
They live on the breakfast bar above my sink, in a enormous container that has an island where they can bask and kick back. They have decided that nothing but whole, freeze dried, ocean krill will do for every meal (which stinks to high heaven), and they prefer not to be woken until after 7a.m. NOT KIDDING.
When they do venture out to the little pond outside, they have an umbrella to shield them from the eyes of flying predators, and they come in every night to the safety of their indoor condo.
The words “spoiled” and “turtle” used together in a sentence have come out of my mouth. It is no secret that these animals, although enjoyed by my children more than words can say, seem to be mine and I am captivated by them as much as the kids. Maybe more so. Okay, forget the maybe. They are my turtles. The kids are just a front.
Okay….no more politics on “and baby makes 6!”. I have had my say, just like the rest of the bloggers, and now I am done. I want some change. Yes! we! can! stop! talking! about! the! election!!!!
Let’s move on to something really important……..food.
There is no other way to eat fresh shrimp than with homemade tortillas, fresh lime, avocado, and Cholula sauce.
Save yourself some time, and boil the shrimp with their heads on. Only leave them in the water long enough for them to change (AHHHH! There’s that word again!) color. They will become pink, and it is time to get those babies out.
Oh, and a note about buying shrimp….do not buy pink colored shrimp if it is not already cooked. Raw shrimp will turn pink as it goes bad. The shrimp you buy should have a bluish tint, with some gray. Fresh shrimp will be irridescent and it is really kind of pretty. Really fresh shrimp will still be moving. Not kidding here.
Really, really fresh shrimp will still be swimming, having successfully avoided the shrimpers net.
Peel the shrimp, place several on the warm, soft tortilla, add some avocado, squeeze on some lime and shake a few drops of Cholula on it (Cholula sauce is yummy. It is on the table at our house for every meal). Roll it up and mange!!!
Oh, and don’t forget the Tecate!!
If you have not already bookmarked, head on over to the 3rd Coast. I am really loving the larger image format, so there will be new posts daily.
This flower gives me hope. Not because it has rain drops still clinging to it’s petals, signifying it being wiped clean and fresh. It gives me hope because of its color. See, if it were a red flower, I wouldn’t feel hope. Only a yellow flower can bring about the hope that change can bring. Change that I can’t define, but since it is yellow, I think that definition will come with time…..
…..I hope.
Change from red. Red flowers are evil and must be destroyed. Preferably with a steak knife wielded by an orange flower. Orange flowers, which come from a mix of red and yellow, are also good. But only when they want to be. Being yellow is what is most important, because having a yellow flower will make everything all right.
Just focus on the yellow of the flower. Just look at the color. After all, we all know that the color of something is what is important. It doesn’t matter at all what is inside.
**edit to add…..I am so damn proud of our country. I am proud to live in an America that elected a black man into the Office of the President of the USA. I would feel that way if he were of Chinese decent as well. Or of any nationality for that matter. What bothers me is those who voted for this man based on the color of his skin, with ZERO education on his beliefs and background….. and folks there were many many of them….just cruise the internet and you will see.
I also know that there were many who fully educated themselves on both candidates and cast their vote for the man who best reflected many of their political beliefs, and to those of you who did this, I SALUTE YOU! Whether you voted Obama or McCain. You go! I may not agree with you, but I am proud of you.
To those who voted based on skin color, black or white, …..shame on you.
Billy and I were lounging in bed this weekend, talking about Halloween and life in general. We tend to migrate to our room now, and lock the door once a day just to reconnect without the kids hanging on us. Mia calls it “visiting”, so when we head to the door, she says “oh no! Are you going to visit again??”
There is nothing that sets my heart a flutter more as when Bill takes my hand, leads me toward our room and says “Let’s go visit”. Then winks at me. Be still my heart!
While we were visiting the conversation went to friends and their importance in our life now. I said to him “You know, as much as I love my friends, I am happy to just be with the kids during the day, and with you in the evening and weekends. Your my best friend. I really feel so content with that. It is all I need. Does that put too much pressure on you”.
While lying there peacefully with his eyes closed he replied “Yeah, I am completely stressed out. Can’t you tell?” and he opened his eyes and winked. His winks are really marvelous and make me get all warm and tingly inside. You’ll just have to trust me on this, as, no matter how fast my Nikon is, I will never get a shot of him winking for you. Sorry.
I know that I am lucky to have a husband that loves me and wants to be with me. The man is a saint. You know how he spent Saturday morning? While I went for a run, he cleaned the floors, vacuumed the carpet, washed, dried and folded the laundry, made the bed, washed the sheets for the beds in the 5th wheel, and did the dishes for us. When I came home, the house was clean, which allowed for the rest of the weekend to be filled with fun in the sun
On Sunday I went with my kids and my best friend to the beach to do what we do…..surf and play. At the beach, Cory and I were talking and I said “Should we have invited someone to come with us here?” and he replied “No, I like it better when it is just us”.
And so it is.
I am exhausted, my arms are so sore from paddling I can’t raise them above my head, and I have a cold.
But I am content and very happy. Photos below.
Heading out
Just us
Father and son.
My love. I love the way he is dragging his hand over the top of the wave.
Does that not look too fun??
Getting his board wired
I adore this shot of the two of them waiting for a set to come in….will have to get it in print to hang up on the wall. On an aside, look at those broad shoulders…the man is 51 years old. Not an ounce of fat on him and still charging like a 20something.
Cory is becoming the ultimate surf dude. It’s in his genes.
Enjoy your week!
This time of year is one of my favorites. The Texas coast is so stunningly beautiful, and it still amazes me that in a world of consumerism and ruthless development, a place such as this still exists and that I live in it.
If you want to find beauty, you must get outside. Your camera will not take lovely pictures just sitting on the counter.
Get your Halloween on, folks. There is candy waiting tomorrow, and I intend to eat my fair share. Next week you will see lots of running and exercise posts, but for now carmel apples rule.
My mind wanders here on days when I would like to throw my computer out the window….or in front of a large truck.
My mind wanders here when I want to include in my world only 6 people.
My mind wanders here when I feel that it is time to unplug myself from everything and everyone except my family.
**edit to add that I am just wanting to be either on the road or on the water with my family and am having a nice little pout about it. Not to mention that today I read a blog that I had stopped reading a few months ago because the blogger is mean, spiteful and just plain bitchy and guess what?? She still is! Big surprise. Gah.
I will be heading to the polls and exercising my right, as an American, to help choose the next President of the United States.
My candidate may not win. But you know what? That’s okay, because I relish the fact that we live in a country in which we the people elect our leader. If my candidate wins. Whooo hooo! If he doesn’t, there is always next time, you know?
So, for those of you who claim on your blogs that if your candidate does not win you are going to take an overdose of pain medication (how asinine and I swear this crap is out there, and I know that they are kidding, but still), please get a grip on reality and see a psychiatrist. Or if you you are going to move away if your candidate loses, well, that is your right!!! God bless America!!! Because you are living in America, you CAN freely leave, so I say go for it! Exercise your right to freely cross the borders and fly wherever you want! Many people in other countries are oppressed and cannot do this, so cherish and appreciate that freedom. Oh, and be sure to come back…..you will be welcome again.
In fact, I think you should go to someplace like Tunisia or Morocco, Africa. In Tunisia and Morocco you can’t be a Christian….or Jewish…or Buddist….or Hindu. You can only be Muslim, and that is enforced brutally. It is a place that jails it’s tourists if they pray to Jesus. Just ask my brother. He has spent several nights in a Moroccan prison for simply being a Christian. Amnesty International got him out. I also know what it is like to receive an overseas call from him in Tunisia, years later, saying “I am being persecuted, and am in hiding in Tunis. If you don’t hear from me again by noon tomorrow then it means I am dead, so call the American Embassy in Tunis and tell them what is happening”.
Or how about heading on over to Kenya, where you will be hacked to death with machetes if you happen to have voted for the man that won? Or gunned down in the streets if you protest the election.
When you throw a hissy fit because your candidate loses, you look like a spoiled 2 year old and it is embarrassing. So grow up and be an adult this election. Use your manners folks and quit slinging mud and ignorance from both sides. I am not a racist for voting for McCain, and someone is not a terrorist for voting Obama. You know what I consider racist? I consider it racist when someone calls me a “stupid, white neo-con” for my support of McCain/Palin. Those who know me, know this is not true. Let me tell you a little secret……I did not sit in a church listening to my pastor preach racist rants from the pulpit for 20 years. If my pastor ever spoke angry and terrible things about any people, I would get up and walk out the very first time and never go back again. Period. It is that simple.
I am voting the way I am because I do not support abortion, raising taxes, “redistribution of the wealth” (how can you give a tax refund to someone that didn’t pay taxes to begin with??), socialism, campaign fraud (ACORN) and spending millions, upon millions, upon millions on a campaign that pledges to help the poor but is wallowing in hypocrisy. If helping the poor were that important to Mr. Obama, the money would have been spent helping those rendered homeless by Ike in Galveston, Louisianna and Haiti……not on the around the clock “Obama Channel” on satellite.
I could care the less what color the candidates skin is. That should never be a reason to vote a man into the office of President. EVER. Yes, how flippin’ cool would that be for us to have a black President FINALLY!! But, the color of a man (or womans) skin is NOT a reason to elect a person President. You should make the choice based on who you think is most qualified for the job and I think that is Senator John McCain.
We are so damned blessed to have the rights and privileges that we are granted as members of this amazing country. You live in one of the greatest nations ever founded. You live in a country in which you can chose how and where you worship. Food is readily available to you. Clean water flows from your faucets. The poor receive help from government run programs and many, many of our citizens freely give to those in need.
We are black, we are white, we are yellow, and we are lucky to be members of such a diverse nation. My grandparents and great-grandparents came here by boat from Italy and Denmark seeking prosperity and freedom. They found it, and I praise this great nation.
I encourage you today to get out and exercise your rights as an American citizen. Whether you support Obama or McCain, please vote. It is your right and a privilege. Do not take it for granted.
This morning, as the veil of sleep was still floating in the air, my daughter and I were snuggled together under the covers. I was dozing, and she was humming softly and tracing my face with her fingers.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked at her….this child that I once carried inside of me and longed to see for 9 long months. As I gazed at her, she stretched and I could still see the babyness in her hands and face. I thought about my pregnancy and remembered feeling her movements inside of me. I wondered how much babies remember of the warmth of the womb and for how long they retain that memory.
As she hummed softly I asked her “Do you remember being inside my belly?”
She stopped and looked at me and said “Yes”, so I asked her what she remembered.
She said it was warm. I asked her if it was light or dark, and she said “It could have been light, but I couldn’t see anything”.
So I asked “Could you hear anything?”
And without missing a beat she said “Yes, I could hear your heart beating”.
“stoked” – adjective – to be “stoked” is to be completely and intensely enthusiastic, exhilirated, or excited about something. those who are stoked all of the time know this; being stoked is the epitome of all being. when one is stoked, there is no limit to what one can do.
This, my friends, is the definition of “stoke” in pictures:
Dad gives a little shove into the wave.
Wahine Mia gets right up on her feet.
She checks the little waves out…
Then up she goes.
And down she goes…(see that smile? She is even stoked while falling).
But her stoke is burning.
She grabs the board.
Drags it back out.
And tells Dad “I want to ride another one!”
So Billy takes his little surfer girl by the hand
and she catches another little wave on a perfect fall day at the beach.
“It seems so exceptional, that things just work out after all. It’s just another ordinary miracle today.” ~Sarah McLachlan
This is for the many, many people who have come to my website searching for “multiple miscarriage” “miscarriage is there hope”, “4th miscarriage will I have a live baby” and other heartbreaking phrases.
You won’t find all the answers here, but you just might leave with some hope.
The weather has finally cooled off a bit here, and that leaves for cool evenings and mornings, but midday is still nice and warm. We are still in our bathing suits and shorts here, and it feels a bit like the endless summer.
This time of year is my favorite for lots of beach time. The crowds are gone, and we pretty much have the beach to ourselves during the weekday.
I can’t tell you how nice it is, on the spur of the moment, to head to the beach for some surfing and beach combing. We just load up our boards, a couple of chairs, a small cooler of water and beer, and off we go. We head there at least weekly, sometimes several times a week.
A few months back I met a woman who said that she moved here from Wisconsin. When I asked her what brought her here all the way from up north, she said “The beach! But I have not been to it since I moved here.” I asked her how long she has been here, and she replied “7 years….I have just been too busy”.
As strange as that sounds, it is not uncommon. Many people get complacent about their surroundings. They get wrapped up in the routine of life, and sometimes forget that they live in paradise, be it the mountains, the beach or the desert.
Bill and I promised each other that we would not do that. Here we took this huge leap, packed it up and moved to the beach, and damn the torpedo’s, we are not going to take it for granted.
This past weekend, we went to the trailer and cleaned it up. Ewww, it was nasty dirty. Being in storage for so long, the bugs invaded it, so, we had loads of bug poop etc to vacuum up. I bombed it, and basically sterilized it with bleach products. Bill cleaned out all the storage underneath, scrubbed the outside and now it is all shiny and clean, ready for our first escape…..we just have to dig ourselves out of the mound of routine activities that we piled on ourselves needlessly.
Life should not be about running here, and running there…..scheduled stuff that really sucks the life out of you. My kids don’t need soccer, UIL and such to occupy their time. What they need is quality time, spent with their parents and friends OUTSIDE. Why we signed them up for such stuff is beyond me. It has not been a totally enjoyable experience for us, and Quinn really could take soccer or leave it. I think our society has the notion that your schedule must be crammed and your life must be busy or you are not “succeeding”.
Success for me is having the time to sit outside and sip a cup of coffee while chatting on the phone with a sweet friend. Making time for my family and friends is the most important thing on my schedule, and I am glad to have friends who are the same. I feel very lucky.
The rest of the “stuff”, I am starting to think, is just wasted time….mounds of “business” that we should dig ourselves out of.
What things do you think you could eliminate from your life schedule to make more time for the simple things? How can you set in motion a big change that will be hard, but ultimately be the best thing for your family? Do you have a dream? Tell me about it and what brave thing are you doing, or want to do, to make your dreams come true?
I love taking photos. You will rarely see me without my camera around my neck.
This can be annoying for the captain on the boat when it is time to tack or jibe, and I have to first remove the camera and place it below deck or have someone run it below for me. This is especially annoying to him when he must tack or jibe NOW because the depth has suddenly dropped to 5′4″ and your boat drafts 5′. Hold your horses, Captain Bligh, I don’t want to scratch my len.
Although it is a pain (oh! my! GOSH mom, stop with the pictures already!!), I think everyone in my family appreciates the fact that one day, they will have lots of images to go through and remember all the fun we had. Well, maybe Quinn won’t appreciate the ones of him clad only in ducky rain boots (especially if they are included in a slideshow at his wedding rehearsal dinner) but for the most part I hope they will love having those memories caught and preserved for generations to come.
EDIT: Okay, so I started this post to write specifically about something, and I chickened out. It just felt boastful and weird when I typed it. But, here goes…I am being paid to take pictures now. I am working freelance. They call me, tell me where, when and what they want, and I go take some pictures for them! So, I am actually getting paid for doing what I love! It is perfect for our family schedule. Not to mention how fun it is to see pictures that I took in print! So, that is my little announcement. Carry on…..
Paulette asked if we have been sailing. The answer is “Yes, FINALLY!!!”
Life has been getting in the way. This summer we had some big plans to vacation on the boat….plans that we had to put on the shelf in lieu of more important matters. Billy’s dad was quite ill and over the 3 months of summer, had a cardiac procedure and a kidney procedure. In addition to this, his BP was insanely high, and we just didn’t feel comfortable being out of touch on the boat. Instead, we opted to vacation at home in case we were needed.
Then Ike hit and all of the chaos that he brought kept us busy.
This past weekend, Billy finally made it to Calypso and put her back together again after the hurricane prep from several weeks ago. Then we went sailing, and it felt so good it was insane.
The weather is cooling here finally, and the mosquitoes are dying off. Soccer is almost over, and we have no weekend commitments after that. Weekends away on the boat are up and coming and will dominate this blog.
With Galveston in complete ruin, we will obviously not be heading there for Thanksgiving. We are talking about a trailer or boat trip instead. I am going to need to pick Kathy’s brain and find out how she roasted a turkey in the trailer oven……I think I remember it being cut in half or something. The boat oven is about the same size, so…..maybe we will have cornish hens instead?
If we go in the boat, we will head south. If we go in the trailer, we may head south or west.
Wherever we head, I will be glad to be rolling, as this moss is getting me down.
One morning last week I woke up at 5:45 to let the dog out and noticed that all was not right on the back porch.
Let me back up a bit. A couple of months ago, we rescued some newborn water turtles from death by heron. I was out for a run, and the herons were going to town snacking on these tiny turtles. I rescued 4 of them and brought them home to the kids. In the end, we built a small pond on the porch to house them until they got a bit bigger and we could release them in the big pond at the park.
We have enjoyed them so much. The word adorable did not do them justice. They were precious. They would swim to the side of the pond and wait for me to feed them, and would stretch their little necks out and allow us to pet them. We all loved watching them swim around in the pond and basking in the sun. We called them our babies, and adored them.
That morning, however, as my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the back porch, my mind started to register what had happened. There were little, water paw prints everywhere, and the pond lily was torn to shreds. The pond was still and silent. Raccoons had raided it moments before and taken all of our babies…..our sweet little turtle babies.
I think everything finally caught up with me (Bills dad being sick, Ike etc) and that was the straw that broke the camels back. I cried like crazy as I searched the backyard with a flashlight, cursing the raccoons (little bastads). I DREADED telling the kids what happened. How was I going to tell them that raccoons ate their “babies”? (do…not…laugh)
When Mia woke up, I lightened it up a bit and told her that they probably got away by crawling into the grass and hiding. Bill later came to me and said “She is no idiot Jody. She just told me that she wished she could shoot the raccoons with a BB gun and get her babies out of their tummies.” Nice. At least she doesn’t spit and scratch her crotch.
We did take the opportunity to teach about nature and how animals do what they do to survive etc…blah blah blah. You know, even though we rescued them from being a heron meal, they still became someones meal. Karma exists in the animal world, no? Still, she and Quinn will never look at raccoons in the same, sweet light again.
In the end, I did what any rational mother would do….I got on the internet, found a turtle breeder (yes, they do that….the little nurtles are less likely to have salmonella) and had 2 baby red eared sliders shipped overnight to our house. They are the size of quarters, and are wonderfully adorable. They spend their days outside basking in the sun, then come into the house to their little lagoon at night…the spoiled, little darlings.
As for the raccoons….they better watch out. Mia said “Well, if they come in this yard again, I will knock their teeth out and they won’t be able to eat turtles anymore”.
It has been birthday marathon time here. In 8 days we celebrated 3 birthdays and all were roaring successes. Even the big boy, who bought his own present (9 feet of pure, wave riding magic), had a mawvelous time. I am completely sick of cake, cupcakes and ice cream. Well, sort of. At least until the next birthday in 3 weeks.
The phone started ringing before the hurricane was even in the Gulf of Mexico. Friends and family wanted to know if we were aware there was a hurricane out there (duh), and if we were evacuating, and if so “what is your plan???? You neeeeeed a plan”.
My first reaction was to unplug the phone. My second was to wait patiently for my calm, logical husband to come home from work and discuss the situation.
It was Tuesday morning, and life was going on as usual here. People were going to work, walking their dogs, shopping for groceries. Water was not disappearing off the shelves freakishly, and Chicken Little wasn’t running through the streets screaming “the sky is falling, the sky is falling”. It was just another day in paradise.
By afternoon, things were quite different. The storm had entered the Gulf, and all indications were that it would be a direct hit on us. Boards started going up on windows, and calm, collected activity was seen everywhere.
When Bill came home, we discussed the plan. We went back and forth trying to decide. On the one hand, although the strike zones were looking grim for us, it was still really early to be making accurate predictions. But this storm was giving us the heebie geebies for some reason. Even Billy was a bit spooked. In the end, boards went up, I loaded all of my photos, videos and family heirlooms in the back of my van, and packed a small bag for each of us……and that’s it. No washing machines. No lawn mowers. No furniture of any shape or sort. Zilch, zip, nada.
The next morning, I ran errands. First the bank, then the grocery store for non-perishables (bread, crackers, peanut butter) and Gatorade, and then home to load up important papers into the car…….birth certificates, shot records, insurance policies, bank statements, etc. (To simplify things, I keep one of those accordian type file folders and rotate things out of it every January, so the most recent papers are always in it. I just grab it and go in an emergency.)
Once back home, we went to the task of all the animals. We had “to-go” carriers for all of them, so we prepared those. There were 6 mini aquariums when we were done. Yes, six aquariums to fit in the van with all the kids and the dog.
Billy came home at noon, finished boarding up the house, and then urged me to leave and he would follow shortly after he made one last check on the boat. He had wanted me to leave the night before, but I refused. To the frustration of Billy, all morning on Wednesday he called asking when we were leaving and I would reply “When you leave, I will leave”
I have to stop here and say that the past has shown me to NEVER believe this man when he says “I will be right behind you, I promise”. My most vivid memory of a hurricane evacuation began with my father waking me up very, very early in the morning and saying “Girl, that hurricane has sped up and is going to hit your hometown. Better get up and head home to help Billy pack the house.” I was in Ft. Worth visiting my parents, and Billy had stayed behind in Galveston for a sail boat race he was in.
I loaded up as fast as I could, called Billy and he said “We are racing this morning, and I promise I will leave after the race is over.” Yes, he really said that. They were going on with the sail boat race as a Cat 1 hurricane bore down on the island.
I took off and started the 5 hour drive home. All of the news on the radio predicted landfall at around 11pm-1am, so I had plenty of time to get home, get what I thought was important, and head inland again. You have to remember, this was in the days prior to Katrina, so the hysteria just was not there. People in north Houston, and inland communities did not complicate coastal evacuations by freaking the hell out and getting on the road with everything but the kitchen sink, blocking those who NEEDED to get out from doing so. (yes, this is a touch point for me. If you do not live by the water, or someplace low, if you are not disabled, elderly or relying on electrical medical equipment, such as oxygen, to survive, please plant yourself in your home and allow those in harms way to get to safety. Many, many of those who did not leave Boliver and Galveston stayed because they feared being stuck in gridlock on I-45, in a car with no gas, as a monster storm bore down on them. The Rita lunacy was etched in their minds. For those of you who were not in harms way with flooding, but knew you might have some high winds, high fives to you for staying and allowing the most vulnerable the road space to get to safety)
Ahem…where was I? Ah yes, heading home……I had one stop to make at a friends in Houston before meeting up with Bill, so at around 4pm I pulled up in front of the house, and everyone ran out to my car saying things like “Thank God you are here, everyone has been calling knowing you were on the road. The hurricane sped way up and is hitting right now!!”
I came inside and called Billy on the off chance he would still be at our house on the West end of the island………….and sure enough, he answered. He did not leave, and it was now too late to leave, as the causeway was closed. He told me that the water was already up, and that breaker boxes were exploding everywhere….and then we lost phone lines.
The next 12 hours were the worst ever. I was so mad at him, and worried out of my mind. By the time I drove onto the island and was allowed to enter at 5a.m., clean up had already started. Yes, it was a small Cat 1 hurricane, but there were power lines down, trees and debris on the road, and dead animals everywhere. The water had already receded, and I was able to get to our house, which was intact with Billy safe inside.
Because of this, I never trust the man when he says; “I’ll be right behind you”, and I told him this. We argued back and forth, and finally I shoved a kid at him and said “I will leave if you agree to take Cory with you.” No, I was not sacrificing a child and putting him in harms way. I knew that if he took one of the kids in his car, there is no way he would stay. He agreed, and took off for the boat.
I loaded the remaining kiddos into the car, and last but not least, put the “to-go” aquariums in and surveyed the van. It was like Noah’s Ark. 2 of every animal. We had 2 salamanders, 2 geckos, a newt, a box turtle, 4 water turtles, a shedding dog and a partridge in a pear tree. It was special. Trust me on this.
Going back into the house was surreal. It was very dark due to the boarded windows, and so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I had placed most of the valuables up high, but it was still daunting. I looked around and thought, “If it hits here, this will all be under water”. I turned, walked out the door and locked it. As I walked toward the van I had to tell myself that all of the “stuff” in our house didn’t matter……everything that I valued in this world was in that van, buckled safely in. Everything else could be replaced.
Living at the coast has its amazing rewards. Some of those rewards are obvious. Some are not. The ocean, the sand, the views, the lifestyle, the people…all of these things come together to make a beach town. The thing is, you have to prepare yourself for when, NOT IF, the time comes to offer Captain Nemo his sacrifice.
That is the price you may pay for your little slice of paradise, and it is hard. I have never had to do it, and to just think about it blows my mind.
***edited to add a link to the Laura Recovery Center’s list of those reported missing from Hurricane Ike. I believe this list is updated daily.
_____________________________
I am posting this list of names copied from the KHOU website and I ask if you would please pray that they are found safe and sound very soon. Please keep their family members in your thoughts and prayers as well.
The following are considered missing by their family members or their whereabouts are otherwise unknown (this list comes from the ABC 13 Missing Person Locator):
Bolivar Peninsula
Including Port Bolivar, Crystal Beach, Caplen, Gilchrist, High Island
MISSING:
Allen, Charles
Amo (Flores?)
Anderson, Bobby (survived, but friend perished)
Arrambide, Marion and sister Nina
Bagwell, Blaine and mother Ginger
Ball, Danny
Ball, Kristian
Bates, Jim
Billy the Kid (across from Sharkey’s)
Bingham, Harry
Bingham, Susan
Beasley, James
Blume, Cindy and family
Blume, Jackie and family
Boudlouck, Becky
Boudlouck, Cliff
Bouse, Charlie and family
Bouse, Dixie and family
Branstetter, Kent
Brookshire, Rose
Bugler, Harry
Bugler, Susan
Butterfield, L.C.
Butterfield, Sandy
Callender, Deena
Campbell, Michael
Cannon, Colin
Cannon, Michelle
Carol (Crystal Canals Bait Camp)
Carol (Tuna St.)
Cecil and Tommy (High Island)
Chapman, Larry
Chapman, Suzy
Cherry, Don
Cheryl (the nurse)
Cloud, Michael
Comeaux Family
Cook, Lee
Cook, Sandy
Cranford, Kim
Cranford, Treton
Cripps, Alton
Cripps, Jean
Cripps, Russel
Dean, Anne
Droege, Carolyn
Droege, Dick
Dunn, Glennis
Ettenger, Gail
Fisher, Walter
Floyd (Garza’s Grocery)
Gatlin, Chris
Gatlin, Karen
Golden, Jean
Grissom, Richard
Grissom, Stephanie
Haigh, Jack
Hamilton, Earl
Hamilton, Shirley
Harris, Terry
Hendricks, Laurel
Hill, George
Hill, Martin
Hornbeck, Ronnie
Howard, Greb
Howard, John
Howard, Lois
Jewell, Betty Jean
Johnson, Lynette
Johnson, Sue
Jones, Daisy
Jones, Dewy
Jones, Jack
Kahla, Mary and family
Kelly, Linda
Kelly, Richard
Knight, Beverly and husband
Kreuzer Family
Lavalle, Ellie
Lee, Judy
Lee, Ron
Lisa (18th and Galveston)
Lopez, Jim
Lopez, Milton
Maclemore, Jan (originally listed as deceased, but her status is missing)
Maddox, Dee
Manley, Jerry
Marchese, Carol
Mardis, Carol
Mardis, Darryl
Martin, Buster
Martinez, Cindy
Mathis, Jerry
Mathis, Pat
Maxwell, Edith
McGready, Jean
McGready, Tom
McKnight, JC
McKnight, Lori
McManus, Barbara
McManus, James
Mobley, Zenith
Moseley, Herman
Mouton, Darby
Mouton, Sis
Mouton, Wayne and family
Nguyen, Father (St. Theresa’s)
Pilsner, E.A. and family
Pond, James
Porter, Edith
Porter, Sheila
Rankin, Beth
Reed, Bill
Reedy, Bill
Reedy, Jeannie
Rodriguez, Greg
Ron and wife Dorothy (Melody Lane)
Rosenthal, April
Rush, Harly
Rush, Kathy
Scherry
Schley, Barbara
Schley, Claud
Schmidt, Dee
Schmidt, Matt
Segura Family
Shaw, Feather
Simpton, Joyce
Stephenson, Blake
Stephenson, Debbie
Stephenson, Kade
Stephenson, Mason
Stephenson, Michael
Stephenson, Piper
Steppe, Francine
Stines, Kahla and family and friends
Stockton, David
Stockton, Patty
Strahan, Alecia
Strickland, Magdalena
Sullivan, Mannon and mother
Tiki Man Kevin
Turner, Karon
Turner, Willis
Ward, Terri and family
Werner, Ed
Williams, Bruce
Williams, Carol
Williams, Shane
Wisenbaker, Mikey and family
Wisenbaker, Mycol and
Galveston Island
MISSING:
Adley, Tom
Allen, AJ
Allen, Betty
Allen, Carolyn
Allen, Jackie
Allen, Kim
Allen, Regina
Allen, Rosalyn
Alonso, Olivia
Alvarez, Frances
Alvarez, Hector
Anderson, Tom and Asa
Anderson, Cory
Armentrout, Joe
Arrambide, Marion (Port Bolivar)
Ashmore, Dee
Asocar, Gilbert
Asocar, Margie
Asocar, Roger
Auzston, Mike
Ballesteros, Antonia
Bangle, James
Baty, Mark (Texas City)
Baty, Matthew
Baty, Melvin
Baty, Michael
Beaird, Suzanne and Richard
Bell Family
Berry, Edmond
Best, Julie
Best, Mike
Billiot, Helen
Bittner, Devon
Brewster, Carl
Brick, Pauline
Brown, Darrell and Rodney
Brock, Margo
Brown, Mary
Brown, Tom
Brown, Willette
Bruner, Becky (Crystal Beach)
Bruner, Robert (Crystal Beach)
Buggey, Krista
Buggey, Townsend
Buss, Wayne
Campbell, Ray
Campos, Alex
Campos, Carlos
Campos, Lalo
Campos, Rita
Campos, Suzie
Campos family (other members)
Carr, Jimbo
Carra, Bobbie
Carra, Jim
Carrera, Juan and family
Chambers, Dorice
Chapman, Addison
Chapman, Danielle
Chapman, Joel
Claypole, Connie
Claypole, Gary
Cleveland, Brother (Island Church)
Coker, Sonya
Conti, Shirley
Cooper, Ronald
Crawford, Chelsea
Crawford, Eric
Crawford, Jana
Curly and family (no last name given)
Dagg, Bill
Dagg, Kathleen
Damstorm, Harvey
Danielle and two sons (no last name given)
Darras, Jackie
Darras, Patia
Deadrick, William
Deadrick, Emily
Deharde, George
Deharde, Pat
De La Cruz, Joey
De La Cruz, Julie
Dickerson, Velma Rae (Crystal Beach)
Dort, Robert
Dues, John Jr. and Annie
Dustin, Albert
Edwards, Barbara and family
Fant, Lillian
Francis, Angie and two children
Gabriles, Delores
Gabriles, Jim
Gallagher, Joe
Garcia, Delores
Garibay, Tammy
Garibay, William
Garza, Danny
Gilbert, Stacy
Gilliam, Ray
Gobert, Beatrice
Gomez, Willie
Gonzalez, Rosendo Jr.
Gonzalez, Zachary
Graham, Denise
Graham, Jeff
Graham, Wardell
Gray, Alice
Gray, Charlie
Gray, Charles Frederick
Haley, Eugenia and family
Hanley, Gary
Harper, Karren
Harper, Marissa
Harper, Valerie
Harris, Frances
Harrison, Allen
Haynes, Franklin
Hill, Pierce Jr.
Hollis, Grace
Holloway, Rick and kids
Holloway, TJ and kids
Holmes, Doretha
Horn, Francis
Hudson, Charles
Jackson, David
Jackson, Lena and family
Jackson, Thelma and daughter
James, Lucious Jr.
James, Williette
Jaramillo, Marco
Johnson, Jaquita
Jones, Damon
Joubert, Aundrea and family
Jurique, EB? Josh? and family
Karilanovic, Dorothy
Keele, Sybil
Kirby, Johnny
Kokelic, Marie
Krivokipich, Michele
Kuehne, Ashley
Kupsa, Michael and girlfriend Michelle
Kwasnaza, Judy
Lee, Dean
Lee, Donald and son
Lee, Samantha
Legator, Donna and Kim
Legg, Rusty
Lemons, Angela
Levine, Charles
Levine, Susan
Lewis Family
Lewis, Rebecca
Loomis, Andrew
Luna, Mario and family
Luna, Rosa and family
Luza, Katie
Luza, Leslie
Lyons, Electa and family
Manago, Shawna and kids
Massey, Bob
Massey, Tish
McCorkle, Peggy
McCourt, Barbara
Mendoza, Bianca
Mendoza, Javier
Mendoza, Maria
Mendoza, Veronica
Mendoza family (other members)
Middleton, Lester
Miller, Perry (critically injured in fire)
Monford, Paul and mom and sister
Montemayor, Karen
Montemayor, Steve
Moore, Ray
Moran, Kevin
Moran, Sean
Moran, Yolanda and sister
Moseley, Charles
Moseley, Rita
Moser, Nena
Oatis, Richard
Ochoa, Crystal
Parra, Candelaria
Parra, Jose
Parris, Geraldine
Parris, Eneizer
Pena, Bertha
Pepper, Cookie
Pepper, Lloyd
Perdiz, Crystal
Perdiz, Melencio
Peterson, Chris
Peterson, Mike
Peterson, Oscar
Peterson, Terry
Peterson, Walter
Pierson, Freddy
Pierson, Gloria
Placencia, Jose
Potorenski, Geraldine
Powell, Susan
Powell, Travers
Purdy, Judy
Ragan, Brenda
Ratzman, Charles and family
Reegan, Ronny
Reeves, Lory
Reeves, Jim
Reichenback, Bill
Reichenback, Ray
Reindl, Diann
Reindl, Ed
Reynolds, Carl
Richard, Murphy
Rios, Jo
Rittenhouse, Ronnie
Rodriguez, Edie and family
Rodriguez, Gabe and family
Rudenberg, Mary
Russo, Candy
Rutherford, Doug
Rutherford, Lisa
Rygard, Jessie
Rygard, Kin
Salazar, Abel
Salazar, Armando
Salazar, Arthur
Salinas, Gilbert
Salinas, Lily
Sanchez, Daniel
Sanders, Georgia
Sanders, Nathan
Schmidt, Curtis
Schneider, Barbara
Schneider, Bill
Shaffner, Aaron
Sharpe, Bill and wife (Crystal Beach)
Siller, Michael
Smith, Edgar
Smith, Mandy
Smith, Sidney
Smith, Stan and Dorothy
St. Claire, Bobby
St. Claire, Nyla
Stan (last name unknown)
Strasburg, Dave
Strasburg, Sona
Strickland, Magdelena (Port Bolivar)
Strickland, Robert
Stuff, Barry
Sturgeon, Judy
Taylor, Albert (High Island)
Taylor, Joan and family
Taylor, Margaret and William
Thomas, Jamon
Thorstad, Shirley
Trevino, Loretta
Trevino, Miguel
Turner, Edward
Turner, Larry
Turner, Ted and family
Tyler, Ottie
Tyler, Verna
Valdez, Eric and girlfriend Mercedes
Vallier, Vickie
Vargas, Cindy and family
Watson, Berta
Watson, Bobby
Weedman, Joe and family
Weipert, Mary and bread man
Westmoreland, Roseanne
Whidden, Delores
Whidden, Hugh
White, Jerome
Whitner, Calvin
Whoose, Kari
Whoose, Lorraine
Whoose, Rita
Wichlep, Rita
Williams, Shane (Port Bolivar)
Wilson, George
Wingate, Paul and family
Wright, Tommy
Zendt, John
Zulpo, Celess and children
Billy is not sleeping. He wakes up at night and starts thinking about Galveston. He thinks of our family members…….sister, aunt, nephews, cousins…..who are homeless right now and will be for a long time to come. His mind is busy. We have to be patient to see how best we can help them all.
My mind is filled with these thoughts as well. I can’t stop thinking of all the lifeless people who are still in their homes: homes with a big red X on the outside with each quadrant of the X filled with numbers….the bottom quadrant signifying the number of dead inside. I think of the elderly, and those in wheel chairs and feel agony when I imagine their fear as the water level rose.
I want to know if the friends we have not heard about ever left the island, and if they did not, are they are okay?
I deal with stress poorly. I get very ADD, and feel very overwhelmed. I can’t concentrate. I yell. I know that the only way I can deal with it is by running. But that is impossible with the 2 little ones at home.
While at the ranch, I ran over 5 miles a day through the silent hills. It was amazing to be out there and never see another soul. I would grab my iPod and head out the door every morning, and run until I felt the stress leave. I always know when I reach that point. I can close my eyes and see what looks like a black hole in space and millions of molecules swirling toward it. I know, that sounds strange, but I can’t see it when my mind is racing. After several miles, a calm desends upon me and I can relax enough to see nothing but the movement of my own cells behind my eye lids.
Tuesday was ballistic. I spent hours on the computer trying to get my Aunts medical records from UTMB. Ha, ha…HA ha ha ha. UTMB that had 6 feet of water in it. Her pharmacy was inoperable and offline. Jody the computer geek found a back door to an E-1 geek at the hospital and the wheels are in motion for my MIL to get Aunt C’s medical needs cared for.***
The kids were just insanely wild that day as well. Much chaos, no cooperation to do school, and lots fighting and screaming between them.
When Bill came home, I was on my hands and knees cleaning grout with a toothbrush. He looked at me, and the chaos of the house, and said “Hi. What are you doing?’
I replied: “Cleaning grout.”
Bill: “Um, I know I like a clean house, but I never really noticed the grout. Is there a reason you are cleaning grout at 5pm? ”
Me: “Yes, because if I don’t bring my focus down to a macro level, I will fall apart”
That was Tuesday. On Wednesday evening Bill came home and after listening to me announce that it was “cereal night” he watched me grab my iPod and head out the door……………and I ran, and ran, and ran. I ran hard and fast. I ran until my sides ached. I ran until I could see that black, swirling void and then I ran home. I got to the garage and I sat down and sobbed. I sobbed for all the dead. All the homeless. I sobbed that I lived in a time to witness the 1900 storm return to Galveston. I sobbed that the Seawall, so tall and proud, finally met its match.
I am not sure how to help everyone. It is pure chaos. I don’t think they know where to start. I mean, sure, your house had almost 4 feet of water in it, so you need to fix floors, cut out sheetrock and re-plaster and paint, right? Well no, it isn’t that simple. See, those houses are just sitting there, festering. Mold, mud, and debris coats them. The stink is horrible. It soaks into everything. The looters are stealing and violating the belongings of others. The dead sit patiently in their homes waiting to be identified and laid to rest.
And life goes on around it all. The earth keeps spinning and we go round and round. Sometimes it all is just too much, you know?
Yesterday, a child came out to wonder,
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder,
And tearful at the falling of a star
And the seasons, they go round and round,
And the painted ponies go up and down,
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind from where we came,
And go round and round and round in the circle game ~Joni Mitchell
***NEVER heard back from the guy. But my ingenious MIL has it all taken care of Aunt C and has doc appointment scheduled, and was able to get her many meds refilled, so all is good there at present.
We are home, and all is well in our neck of the woods. House was fine. The boat weathered the surge we had here, and the trailer is safe and dry. We spent the 5 days waiting it out on the ranch with family and turning the cows on to a good, cold beer. ;*)
Our families are slowly getting word about their homes. My SIL is E-1 at the hospital in Galveston, so she was able to enter the island today and check on the homes. Her home had lots of water in it but was intact. My MIL’s house had water in it, but it was not bad. She will have to replace flooring, some sheet rock and a broken window. The fires that we saw on video were the complex behind my MIL’s, and they did not damage hers. Whew. This is the best news ever. Well, no. The best news ever was hearing on Friday that they were all safe on the mainland.
The island has been just destroyed. Debris everywhere. Very little info is coming off the island. I hesitate to pass on info we are hearing from friends and family, as it is very distressing and I don’t want to pass on anything until it is confirmed. I know that the media has been told to leave the San Luis, and all rescue workers have been told they are NOT to talk with the media.
We spent yesterday taking off the storm blinds, and getting the house back in order, and today has been busy talking with family etc passing on info received from family on the island. Also, we have been GLUED to the live aerial views of the island and news reports leaking out here and there. So, so sad.
I am just so touched and floored by the prayers and PT that have come in via e-mails and comments. You guys rock!! and I promise to answer each and everyone of you in the days to come. Thank you so very much!
For now, we are grateful to be back home, sleeping in our own beds and, above all, safe.
The good news is, all of our family members are safe and sound. Aunt C arrived here last night, tired, but well. We are so blessed, as Billy’s cousin (Aunt C’s daughter) decided to ride the storm out in her house…….the house that is just a few blocks behind the Seawall. They were lucky and the house came out with very minimal damage.
Aunt C was not so lucky. The tidal surge came up over 3 feet into her home. She is devastated.
Since Aunt C’s house was flooded, it is a strong possibility that both my MIL and SIL’s homes were also flooded since they are in the same area.
While watching the film footage on TWC, Cory spotted what he believes was Nana’s (Billy’s mom) condo complex up in flames. Billy then said that yes, he had seen some video footage that showed smoke and flames from that area.
We know nothing about how the tidal surge affected us in our hometown. Word is that the surge was 6′, and that it was not going down. In fact it was 6 or so inches higher today than yesterday.
Thank you so much for all your comments and e-mails. I appreciate them so much, and will respond to eveyone in the next couple of days.
May I ask that you please pray for our extended family in the coming weeks. Without electricity in Galveston for possibly weeks or longer, you can just imagine what will become of those houses that were flooded. My heart aches for them.
It is Friday, and things have been very tense here. Tides are up, and the entire coast will be getting slammed with winds up to 100 mph. We have been anxiously waiting for word from all of our family members in Galveston. As most of you know, that is our home town, and most of our relatives live there. Billy’s mom has safely been evacuated, as has his sister, her kids and we just got word an hour ago that his elderly aunt has left the island rather late, and they are working their way through Houston to the hill country. His BIL is part of the recovery team to restore power to the island, so he is in Houston awaiting re-entry to the island as early as tomorrow evening.
Our good friends live on the west end of the island, and Billy talked with them this morning, and they are safe in Houston….but the entire west end of Galveston is under water. This means their home is as well. It is a stilt home, so we are hoping the damage is confined to the bottom level.
The waves are coming up over Seawall Boulevard, and this bodes ill for our family members whose homes are on the next block. At 61st, the pier is being washed away. The up-ramp is gone, as is the front of the pier.
Billy, myself and the kids are safe and sound. Our home has been prepped as much as possible and it looks like it will be fine if Ike takes a turn north. The boat and trailer……..well, only time will tell. If we get a big tidal surge, the boat might be damaged and the trailer will have water in it.
Like I said, it is tense here, but Billy is trying to keep things light. I keep fretting about the house, boat trailer and such and he keeps saying “It ain’t nothin’ but a thang”.
Our loved ones are safe, and for this I am grateful. All the other stuff can be replaced.
My thoughts are with all those in Galveston we have been unable to get ahold of….hopefully they are all safe on the mainland.
Thank you to everyone who has sent e-mails, called and offered so many prayers.
Yes, we are taking this very, very seriously. Living where we do, this is a fact of life for 4 or so months out of every year. Even so, it is still very sobering to realize you might lose your house and everything in it.
We are prepared, safe, and will update as we have internet connection. No, there will be no live blogging. I am not THAT crazy. ;*)
And no, there will be no epic surfing for us this weekend. We have our hand full keeping our family out of harms way.
We have a problem at our house. It is called the computer, and it has literally robbed my kids of their imaginations. All they think and talk about is the computer or saving to buy an Xbox.
They fight over whose turn it is.
They whine when I put it away to literally give myself a break from the arguing and such.
They recently spent a week at their grandparents house, and Bill and I made the decision to eliminate the conflict from the house.
Their computer “broke”.
Now, they know it isn’t really broken, but they get the concept…….the old laptop is no longer available for them to fuss and fight over.
As with any addiction, there is some clothes ripping and wailing. This morning, my youngest son came in and yelled at me, yes, YELLED at me, telling me how unfair and mean I am. Absolute and total disrespect and ugliness.
Tough.
I will not tolerate this crap any longer. The computer age is dead at our house. This laptop, the one I am writing this with, is the only gate to the WWW in our house, and it spends 3/4 of its day shut down now.
Life is being lived at our house, and my kids are going to have to buck it up and experience it with us.
We are their parents, and we know it is not healthy for them, so Bill and I are taking a stand.
I know that this is a different age that we live in, but I spent almost all of my free time riding my bike and exploring the creek near our home when I was young. I was a healthy kid, sweating and coming home filthy. T.V. had something like 5 channels, so there wasn’t something on to entertain us at all hours of the day. We did something called “playing”. Wow, what a concept.
I think parenting takes on a whole new challenge when you shut down the electronics. I am sure I will hear the word “bored” much more than usual. Fine. It is okay to be bored. Life doesn’t have to throw a juggling clown in front of you every second of the day.
There is a giant world outside, waiting for my kids to discover it.
Now, if we can all make it through the transition phase without caving……………….
We did some snooping around, and found an ideal place to cruise with the kids. The area is just gorgeous, and the kids have all kinds of places to roam and explore.
It won’t be such a bad place for the parents to cruise solo, either. I see a sunset, a margarita and some couple time in our future.
For Christmas we bought our son a ring to wear. Around it is inscribed Vaya con Dios, and he never takes it off.
It is our hope that, if this amazing young man walks away from us having only learned one everlasting thing, it will be to go with God throughout his days.
I was driving down the road, the giant rolling hills of Texas all around me. It was spring, and the weather had just warmed up, and I was feeling fantastic. I had just recently come out of a year long pity party that I had started 2 weeks before my 2nd son was born. I had enjoyed a good, hard pout because my husband had moved his family to what was truly the middle of nowhere in my opinion. Our house was smack dab in the middle of a 20,000 acre ranch. We had rattle snakes and scorpions and I remember feeling like not soul on earth, aside from my immediate family, knew that I existed.
I spent the first year of Cody’s life being pissed off at everything and everyone.
The only way that I came out of it was through the grace of God.
When Jesus rescues you from yourself, there is cause for celebration, and I was in the mood to celebrate.
I looked out the window and saw that it had starting to rain. I pulled off the road and turned to Cory, then 4 1/2. I said “Let’s dance in the rain!”.
He shook his head and said “No way!!”, but Cody, then 18 months, squealed from his car seat in the back “I dance in da wain!”
We got out of the car and I held his fat little body in my arms and danced with him in the warm spring rain.
We danced, splashed laughed and got soaked to the bone while the angels sang. God smiled and said “Welcome back” with each clap of thunder.
I feel that thunder rolling inside of me again. It has been coming in waves…..a gently clap here, a distant, deep rumble there. It rolled in last August while I was on a walk, and among the the flashes of lightening God said “It doesn’t matter where you live, as long as you take me with you”…..then I promptly left Him with His bags packed by the door.
This past weekend, I went back and got Him. Do you want to know what was a miracle? He was still standing in the same place waiting for me, bags by His side.
We went to church this weekend. Not the one down the street where we have been trying to stick a square peg in a round hole, but at a Lutheran church. We sang “All Things Bright and Beautiful” and I cried while my children sat smiling in the pews…..pews that felt like home. I felt my heart swell when, instead of quickly walking to our car alone, I watched the people crowd around the kids and Bill, welcoming us after the service. That was on Sunday…..by Tuesday, that Pastor was in my living room praying with my husband and I. It was an unprompted visit from a man who wants to bring the love of God to everyone he meets.
This year has been wonderful, stressful, joyful and empty all at once. It has been reaffirming, and a welcome homecoming for my body and mind. We left behind so very much, but also gained so much as well.
Life here is so full and complete now. I don’t want to miss one moment of it. I will be taking communion at our new church this Sunday for the first time since we moved here. To me, it feels like a celebration as big as baptism.
It is time to seriously, and without compromise, limit my online time. I am not sure what that will eventually mean. I guess it will come to me in time, but for now I have bought a kitchen timer. When it goes off, so do I, no questions asked. I am also using it to cut out the fussing and fighting that goes on with the kids in their NEED to be on Runescape and Littlest Pet Shop. Ding, on to the next person.
It has been 9 years since that spring when I danced in the rain with my son. I have since had 2 more children and moved 3 times. I know that it is cliche to say, but my kids are growing up so very fast. When I look back on that year of anger so long ago, I could feel sadness of time missed. I do, but I am grateful for a deep hole to have fallen into, so that I had no other choice but to look up.
It’s time to dance in the rain with my children. We need a good, hard rain. It will probably be a summer rain this time, and a hint of sea water will be in it. I am watching the sky with a smile.
“So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
‘Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh, I will dance with Cinderella
I don’t wanna miss even one song,
Cuz all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she’ll be gone.” ~ Steven Curtis Chapman
p.s……..this picture makes me ovulate. I mean, is there nothing more scrumptious than watching a daddy dance with his daughter standing on his shoes?
Photographing this was dangerous I tell ya. These birds are fiercely protective of their nests (look at those beaks!), so I pulled the van up next to the nesting area and photographed them out the window. Still, the parents flew frantically around the van, shrieking and complaining and letting me know that I was intruding on their nesting vibe.
I grabbed my shot and left them to their littles.
I had a lovely comment from a reader named Joan on my previous post. She was on vacation with her family to our neck of the woods, and ended up on our marina. It was a busy weekend on the docks, and it was literally packed with people. We had come to the boat to hang out, grill some sausage and swim. Joan happened to notice my daughter coming out of the marina store with her brothers and she recognized her from my blog.
Wow. That’s about all I can say. To have someone recognize my kids from my blog is a bit strange and unnerving all at once. I really love to meet new people, don’t get me wrong. If Joan had grabbed me and introduced herself, I would have bought her a beer…right after she shoveled me off the dock that I melted into.
But, someone recognized my kids from the internet, folks. Thank goodness it was someone real and valid like Joan. We spoke via e-mail etc and I do not feel in the least unnerved about HER at all…just about the concept.
How does this make you feel? What if it happened to you?
I think I can empathize with the little Skimmer mamas. “My babies, my babies. Eeeek!”
The dinghy becomes a playground once we anchor. The kids have invented a game called “Sharks” on it. The rules are simple: you must jump off the back of the boat and get in the dinghy as fast as you can to avoid the sharks. Whoever is in the dinghy, rocks it back and forth violently as you try to climb in all the while screaming “shark”. Hilarious laughter and splashing are part of the rules.
Yes, I prefer this break to the endless Wii, TV and computer games.
This has to be one of my favorite places. The water is always cool and clear, and it is not unusual to be the only boat there. We spend our days swimming, napping, fishing, reading and rowing around with the dinghy.
It always pleases me to see the transformation that occurs when we get away from real life and all the distractions of the phone, TV, computer and all the conveniences of civilization. The kids all mesh together and get along. Bill and I relax and unwind.
We are on Mexico time. It is a different clock than the rest of the world. It is a lifestyle that our society just can’t seem to grasp. I know I have said this very thing numerous times, but it is so true!
Being on a boat takes Mexico time to new levels. We become one with the tide….the boat swaying back and forth following the wind, tugging against the anchor in protest. It wants to break free and go where the wind will lead it.
Yes, it was hot. There were mosquitoes. At one point, around 1 a.m or so, I broke out the mosquito netting, covered the hatches and went up on deck with my pillow to try and catch some breeze and some Zzz’s. The 2 oldest boys were asleep in the cockpit. Honey was curled up in a ball with them, so I moved some legs over and curled up at their feet. The full moon was up. There was not one cloud in the sky, and the stars were out in all their glory. I lay there staring up at it all, wondering how I was going to go home and have plaster for my ceiling again.
I empathize with the boat. Sometimes I feel myself pulling at our anchor. If we hoisted it, I wonder where the wind would take us?
We spent the weekend out in das boot, all 4 kiddos and the Hun Bun wowie. It was hot, fun, gorgeous, and we are all very, very tired.
One high point was watching a blazing red sun set off our stern, and watching a huge, bright red moon rising off the bow. I applauded, as it felt like a show, put on just for us.
We have been waking every morning at 6am for the entire summer. Two words: swim team. ‘Nuff said.
But it is now over, and the sleeping late has BEGUN!!!! The above sunrise is the last one I plan on seeing until Bill and I enjoy one with coffee on the boat…in some unknown little cove.
The blog has morphed again, and archives have returned. I am slowly going through them and adding the pictures back that Flickr ate. To be honest, I am glad it happened as it forced me to host my own images, which is something everyone should consider.
Summer bullet list:
-Cody finally got his cast off and SWAM for the first time this summer. He claims his entire summer was ruined, regardless of the fact that he still has more than 1/2 of it left. His arm is as good as new, despite the severity of the break. How severe was it? Well, let’s just say that it was so grossly deformed upon impact (fell off the monkey bars at school) that Cody reached down and, with a scream, BENT HIS ARM BACK INTO PLACE. The assistant principle was standing a few feet away and watched Cody reduce his own fracture. He said there was about 8 seconds of screaming panic, and then Cody just reached down and bent it back in line and said “I need to go to the nurse now”. (shudder)
-I am now run/walking 4 miles a day. 3/4 of it is running, so its good. I have consistently kept it up daily since the end of May, so things (body areas) are moving back to where they should be and I am pleased.
-In the last couple of months I have had a CAT scan, an US and just over $500 worth of blood testing. All are negative. So, the discomfort I am experiencing in my thoracic region and upper right quadrant of my abdomen have no diagnosis. Bill said “You have rocks in your gizzard”, which is something his physician grandfather used to say about people who had a smidge of “the crazy”. I have plans to throw him overboard while we are on the boat alone…..no one will ever notice, right?
-Mia has recovered from Peeps demise, but daily she reflects on missing him. His sister, who kept her hind end in the nest, survived the toddler days and became a fledgling and flew away. We watched her every day and photographed her growth, so it was nice to see her make it to adulthood.
-We have had many more snakes in our yard. Lots of non-venomous snakes I might add. But snakes none-the-less. We catch them, photograph them for our log and release them. It is amazing how much wildlife is here. We were having a beer on our back deck last night, and Honey was barking at the fence so we got up to take a look. It was a deer. She was about 3 feet from the fence and when she saw me, she just stood there and studied me. I talked softly to her and then left her to graze. Loveliness that has no words. It is just magical here.
I have tunnel vision right now, and my focus is on the boat trip, hence my absence here. If I find some WiFi along the way, I will ping you all a pic of my idea of paradise. The thought of being alone on the boat with my husband has me day dreaming. Don’t get me wrong…..I will miss the kids and Honey….I am just ready to have Bill all to myself. Every couple should find the time to be alone with each other. If you have not done that in a long time, do it. Find a way. Get out of the house with each other……closing the door to your bedroom and hearing children knocking and asking “Can we come in yet? What are you DOING in there?” just does not cut the mustard, folks.
I won’t be day dreaming soon…………
You’re a song
Written by the hands of God
Don’t get me wrong cause
This might sound to you a bit odd
But you own the place
Where all my thoughts go hiding…….
When the friends are gone
When the party’s over
We will still belong to each other
~Shakira
We have a numerous irons in the fire right now. Vacations with kids (5′er and boat), vacations without kids (boat), so there will be lots of fun, new pics coming soon.
The boat trip with just Bill and I will be a well deserved bit of couple time. We are not sure which direction we are heading, or for how long, but rest assured we plan on finding some isolated anchorages. There are a ton of little islands and deserted areas between here and Mexico, and hopefully we will find that one particular harbor to restore our minds and bodies.
The 5′er trailer trip is at the request of the kids and will not involve the ocean, again at their request. They want rivers and hills and such, so northwest..ish is the direction we will head. I am really, really looking forward to being in the 5′er again. Every single time I go to check on it in storage, I cry. I open the doors, climb in, and the smells of happiness, fun times and dreams yet to be fulfilled intoxicate me and I am ready to hitch it up and head off forever. (sigh)
Until blast off time, I am busy with lists, finding charts, researching anchorages, finding trailer parks etc etc.
Our town does a fantabulous fireworks show. It’s on the bay, it is huge, and this year we had our boat and could motor on out and view it at anchor.
But we didn’t. Instead it poured rain all day, only clearing up in the late afternoon, so we stayed home and cooked. I made Chris’ potato salad, and this Flag cake, cupcakes, some BBQ ribs and baked beans. We stuffed ourselves, and then everyone showered and got in their jammies………well, not everyone. Let me rephrase that. I got in my jammies, and Bill and the kids went out front to wait and see if they could see the fireworks from our yard.
Bill called me outside as the sun was setting and told me to bring my camera. The sunset was just stunning. Red skies at night, sailor’s delight. I clicked away.
We never did see the fireworks…….the majestic coastal oaks blocked our view.
Then again, we might have been disappointed after seeing the Masters show……there was no music, no rockets, no bangs and pops.
But if you listened carefully, you could hear Creation sigh.
Not only does Peep have a Mohawk, which makes him the stylin’ nestling on the block, but he also loves sky diving from 15 feet in the air.
Peep has no fear. You can have your well-dressed-for-work husband climb the huge ladder at 6:30 a.m. and place Peep the Cardinal back into his booby trapped nest in the twig filled oak tree…..but before your husband can glare at you as he steps off the last rung, Peep will come hurtling through the air and make a soft landing on the thick grass. And he will then peep.
Peep will spend the entire day doing this, until you come to your senses as you stand on the top rung, on the “DANGER: DO NOT STAND ON TOP OF LADDER. YOU MAY LOSE YOUR BALANCE AND FALL” sign and decide that if Peep needs sea level, Peep will get it.
Peep takes up residence in a decorative, old bird nest that your father found over 13 years ago. At first, you try placing the nest in the lowest branches of the tree (Duh). He continues to leap.
Your children watch him peep on the ground and they cry and rip their clothing in grief.
You KNOW that the parent cardinals are there, watching over their reckless youth. You have even seen them feed it a time or two, shake their heads and cluck “Tsk, tsk tsk…can you believe YOUR son”, but as the afternoon wears on, Peep gets a bit dehydrated and lethargic.
You load into the car and head to the local pet shop to buy Exact Hand feeding Formula for seed eating birds because Peep is a Cardinal, and they are way above eating bugs. Only the best mush will do.
As dusk settles in, you end up bringing the baby in and with the little nest, you place it in an old canary cage that belonged to your grandmother. Peep starts, well, peeping, so you mix the mush and give it to him via a syringe. His crop gets full, and he stops peeping and closes his eyes. You turn, walk to the sink, rinse the syringe and mixing bowl and as you set it down the peeping begins and the whole process starts over again.
Your husband makes it clear that if that keeps up all night, out goes Peep.
Peep only becomes quiet as night falls. The cage is covered, the kids are bathed and you ready yourself for bed. You stop at the cage to make sure the very quiet baby bird is still alive and you notice….something funny about his beak. It appears, in the dim light, that he has grown a second beak. The cage is taken to a bright light and the horror that Peep is silently tolerating becomes very apparent.
(changing to first person)
Peep had a worm crawling out of his left nostril. Yes, a worm. I had to stare at it for a minute before it moved, but move it did. Which left me in a very unusual position. I could either leave the large worm hanging out of the nostril (no, I did not get my camera) or I could get some tweezers and pull it out.
Yeah. I pulled the worm out of the baby birds schnoz with the tweezers. What about it? The little bird was so relieved. It was beyond gross, and I keep reaching up to rub my left nostril in sympathy for Peep.
I threw the worm out, along with the tweezers and when I came back in the house, Bill said “So, do you still want to keep the bird in the house. Yeeeeeah! Wouldn’t that be special to have a worm like that”.
Yes, Peep was promptly taken outdoors, and he and his little nest were comfortably deposited in the branches of a tree for the night.
Which brings us to today. The bird is still alive. We fed it outside all day, along with the parents (it does take a village, you know) and his feathers appear to be turning Cardinal red this evening.
No more nostril worm sightings, but there is still time before he is officially a fledgling and will hop/fly away.
In the meantime, it is that time of year. The babies are getting too big for their britches and the nestlings are acting like fledglings. The difference between the two is that a fledgling is supposed to do this, and a nestling is supposed to, as the name implies, stay in the nest.
If you see a bird with full feathers, hopping around on the ground and flying very short distances, this is okay. They are supposed to do that at this fledgling stage. They are not supposed to sleep in late, and borrow the car and money until they are 30.
Nestlings on the other hand can’t fly short distances. They are much more vulnerable to predators at this stage, so try and place them back into their nest.
If they are hell bent on hitting the pavement, and they are in a safe location free from dogs or cats, the best thing to do is leave them to their parents. Try placing them in a makeshift nest in the lower branches of the tree. The parents will continue to care for it. It is a HUGE myth that touching a baby bird will make its parents reject it.
Although I have to wonder if they would be inclined to if they saw a worm crawl out of their preshus baaaybeees nose.
**edit to add that this was written yesterday, and Peep spent another restful night in his makeshift nest in the tree. No guarantee that this little guy will make it, but so far so good.
***edit to add that we had a huge downpour of rain and as it started, went out to get Peep but could not find him. We spent forever combing the yard and he was nowhere to be found. We looked everywhere and finally gave up and went in, thinking his parents shooed him to safety. When the rain let up, we went outside to look some more, and finally found him. He had climbed into a low lying plant in our flower bed…..the same flower bed that floods. The poor, sweet little thing drown. We are so upset and sad. Mia especially. As I type this she is buried in the covers next to me sobbing. (HUGE SIGH)
While my friend was here visiting from up north, I had the pleasure of getting to know her 2 girls. You will never meet a sweeter pair.
What I loved was watching them with Mia. It struck me over and over again how different little girls are from boys.
My boys would charge, full steam ahead, down the beach screaming and literally attack the sand and water with all their might. Everything was something to pounce or stomp on….sand castles were not safe and neither were plaster casts (yes, Cody got it a bit wet).
The girls, on the other hand, tippy toed down the sand to the water and started dancing with the waves as they splashed up onto a beach, transformed into gold by the setting sun. Prancing little fairies, captivating everyone.
Yin and yang, snips and snails, sugar and spice. I love what they are all made of.
If I didn’t know any better, I would say that they built our house smack dab in the middle of a nature preserve. The amount of wild life here is fantabulous, and daily we are introduced to an array of little furry, slithery, wacky neighbors.
Meet Snakey
I had the pleasure of opening my front door and finding this rough green snake on the porch. Cory caught it, fed it a few crickets, then placed it back in the bush that it apparently lives in and we photographed it.
In the last couple of weeks, the animal tally has included:
-a coral snake
-a copperhead
-a baby ribbon snake
-a rough green snake
-numerous deer
-whistle ducks
-a baby cardinal
The baby cardinal fell out of a nest in the front yard, and I found it very early this morning huddled in the wet, cold grass. It had very few feathers and was shivering. I got Cory and Bill, and the enormous ladder, and my husband crawled up it and was able to place the tiny peeping baby into the very high nest with its siblings. (It is a myth that the mother will “smell” human scent and reject the baby….always, always try to place the bird back in the nest….if the nest is too high, create a makeshift nest, put the baby in it and place it as close to the other as possible).
We had a family of whistle ducks in our backyard a few weeks back, and had to hustle the tiny ducklings out of the yard and into the safety of the forest while both parents worked with us like herding dogs.
One night, I awoke in the middle of the night. I got up to check the kids, and as I passed the front door, peeped outside and saw a fox in the front yard.
Bobcats roam the forest land behind our house, so we have to bring Honey in at night…..not that we would ever leave her out at night. The dog is spoiled rotten and has her own spot reserved on our bed.
It is boy heaven here, no doubt.
Which brings me to the copperhead that I listed above. Yes, we had a viper in the yard as I mentioned in my previous post. It was right on the other side of the fence. I was working on the fence, and saw it slithering against the bottom, obviously curious to see what was making the scratching noise on the fence (I was scraping sand off of it). I grabbed a shovel, called for Bill and climbed the fence (all 6 feet of it).
As I stood on the top of the fence, Cory came out and climbed up too. We jumped down on the other side at a safe distance from the viper, and Cory said “What are you planning to do with that shovel mom?” My original intent was to kill the snake. But I stood there looking at it, then back to Cory and he pleaded “No mom, please don’t do that. If you kill it, there are probably 20 others watching from the forest. You can’t kill them all.”
The snake coiled up and just watched us. There was no aggression, and even when I moved to put the shovel near it, it did not strike. Cory got a long stick, and together with the shovel scooped it up and moved it a safe distance away from the fence. We were never in any danger and the snake slithered off into the forest.
After the coral snake incident, I was talking on the phone with someone, and she asked why we did not kill the snakes. When I explained to her that I didn’t think that was right, she said something like “Well, when one bites one of your kids and kills them, you may think differently”. They live in the country and frequently kill skunks, raccoons and other animals that “trespass” on the property (digging and what not). In an e-mail that I read out loud to Bill, we were told that squirrels were raiding the deer feeder and that if they could not keep them out with chicken wire, they would be prime targets for the gun, because the “corn is expensive”. Cody overheard me, and he said “What a horrible person, who wrote that?” and we told him who and he said “That makes me feel so sad”. Me too, son. Me too.
I have to ask, what is the point of living in the country if you kill all the wildlife that call it their home?
Cory is right. We have had 2 coral snakes in the front yard. If we had killed the first one, do you think that would have prevented the second one from coming into the yard? If I had killed the copperhead, do you think that it will make my yard immune to snakes?
We are firm believers in relocation when it is safe, not annihilation.
I can do my best to make my yard safe for the kids. Before they go out to play, I walk the area, and make sure there are no snakes. That is how I found the baby bird this a.m..
But I refuse to kill the animals to make our yard sterile and safe.
This neighborhood and all of the animals in it are lovely. I chose to exist with them. Not tower above the creatures, forcing my dominance on them, making my world “safe”.
The point is to leave as little of our fingerprint as possible.
My children will grow up and understand this concept, if I show it to them now.
To be true as the tide
And free as the wind-swell
Joyful and loving in letting it be.
Heading down wind, sometimes the jib (front sail) just needs to flop over on the opposite side from the mainsail. This is called sailing wing on wing. I love this point of sail on a day with just enough wind to keep both sails out.
It was the kind of day that had us jumping off the bow of the boat and swimming around to the stern as the boat glided by. Bill had thrown a line and flotation device off the stern, so as the boat sailed past, you could grab it and pull yourself to the swim ladder.
We anchored at our favorite island, grilled some sausage, and spent most of our time in the water.
I can handle a summer filled with days like that. No doubt.
You see, this house we live in is surrounded by wildness. Alligators, foxes, bobcats, coyotes.
And my son loves wildlife. He loves it in a way that is visceral and instinctual.
This weekend my friend S and her dad both smiled and laughed when I vained bewilderment about where he gets it from. They know me and are perfectly educated about my animal exploits.
So yes, I was like him, but he is so….much braver. Much more aggressive and forward with his passion. Maybe the difference between male and female, I don’t know. But some of the stuff he does I would never attempt.
Yes, I have a problem. It looks something like this:
What? You don’t see the problem? Here, take a closer look.
And closer yet.
Hint: “Red on yellow, kill a fellow”
My husband, the genius, came inside this morning saying, for the second time since living here: “Cory, blah blah blah, CORAL SNAKE, blah blah blah” and we all ran outside to VIEW the pretty little snake. View I say.
Only, while I was standing there, wondering how in the hell I was ever going to let my barefoot children step foot in the grass EVER AGAIN, to my horror, my son reached down and plucked it up by its tail.
Yes, that is what I said….HE PICKED UP THE CORAL SNAKE WITH HIS BARE HANDS.
And I died. Right then and there. It was insane. But I didn’t go to the light. Instead, I had flashbacks of kissing his fat baby feet and hands and now I was watching as those same hands held deceptive beauty. Bill said something like “My God son, put that down”. I was calmly hysterical, yelling “Drop it. Drop it”.
See how well he listens.
Yes, I know. You are all agast. How could I let my son pick up a poisonous snake. Well, you tell me what you would have done???? Reach over and yank it out of his hands? Ground him off the Wii? This is so much bigger than that. 2 weeks ago a Copperhead found its way to our fence, and my son had hopped the fence with me and was begging me not to kill it with the shovel. Instead he grabbed a long stick and the shovel and maneuvered it safely away from the house.
I said “Cory, I can’t have that thing near my yard” and he replied “Mom, if you kill that one, there are probably 20 others watching from the grass out there. You can’t kill them all, you know”.
We have told him repeatedly not to pick up snakes in the wild. We have said this until we are blue in the face. We have grounded him. Taken away privileges. We think it sinks in, and then our 10yo will tell us that Cory chased a Cottonmouth at the creek. So we ground him forever from the creek here…..seriously.
I am thinking we must build on this…whatever it is he has…this snake charming, amphibian loving gift.
I will be making some calls etc to people I know in the field……he needs a professional herpatologist to discuss the safety issues with him. He is 13 and we are his ignorant parents.
And beyond a shadow of a doubt, he has surpassed his mom in his animal exploits.
What? Did you think we took off on the boat, never to return again? Oh how I wish, but no.
We went way, way south with a very dear friend and her 2 girls. Awesomeness was had by all, and the mommies reconnected over some yummy adult beverages. We had not seen each other in person in over 7 years. We talk on the phone several times a week, but life makes it hard for us to meet up face to face. We have vowed to change that, and ski trips and Mexico vacations were discussed over margaritas in a palapa as the kids frolicked in the sand under the rising moon.
Summer is in full swing, and life is going full speed ahead. Boat trips, trailer trips and all the fun they entail are in our future, but no solid plans have been made.
We are just rolling with the tides right now, taking time to applaud the rising moon over the ocean and the brilliant sun setting on days spent under her brilliant light.
Today was particularly wonderful in that my friend Chris got the “all clear” on a recent CAT scan she had. Now THAT is worth a thousand fabulous moon rises and sunsets.
“After 47 years of living aboard- 37 of them with my wife, Carolyn- I’m still enthralled by Mother Ocean. I see God’s face in every wave, every cloud, every sunset. My boat is my church: Deep ocean is the only place I’ve learned to pray. At sea, I’m always in the moment. I taste the tangy salt air. I hear the dove-wing flutter of my jib leech. I feel the life pulse of the waves, chuckle at my wake, watch Wild Card’s bow throw diamonds at the sky. It’s so lovely.
Sometimes I believe I can hear the Earth spinning on its axis, and it’s difficult not to cry out with the perfection of it all”…..Captain Fatty Goodlander, “Lovely, Lonely Atolls”, Cruising World June 2008
The written word can be such a powerful thing. It has the ability to pluck on your heart strings and send your soul flying above the din and chaos.
Good writing must stir your soul: it can make you laugh out loud, cry with joy or sorrow or make your heart swell with complete and total rapture.
If you want to know what sailing feels like to me, subscribe to Cruising World and read Captain Fatty’s articles….particularly the one I referenced above. You can also hear him on NPR.
Here is a random image. Look how adorable Mia is in her little ballerina outfit. And Bill got new shorts. Plaid is in again, you know. Especially with Quicksilver. He got some Topsiders too and actually wore them……when he walked out of the bedroom with his Crocs on, I threatened him with grave bodily harm if he was even seriously considering that sad ensemble.
Does anyone see anything else special about this photo? Anything that simply, you know, contradicts anything involving water and sand……because it is not like we are surrounded by water and sand or anything.
I was informed by my 13yo this weekend that Bill and I are hippies. Hippies, people.
We were returning from picking up one of his friends, I had “Get Together” by the Youngbloods playing on the iPod and his exact words, delivered with a totally adorable smile, were “You guys (Bill and I) are so totally hippies. You surf, want to spend all your time at the beach, you want to live on a boat, and you listen to all that hippie music.” Hippie music being all the 60’s music.
I was like “Dude, Peace out!!” and his friend was smiling and laughing in the back seat.
I had ordered Sigg, but cancelled the order when I realized that they are aluminum. Aluminum + boat = dents, high heat (which = ruined “secret chemical liner” and leaching of yuk into the water) and lots of money down the drain.
Let me emphasize that normal, everyday land people do not have these issues. I would find it highly unlikely in a normal household for a Sigg to launch itself off a shelf and fly across the room unaided. I also doubt that one would reach thermonuclear temperatures sitting on a kitchen table. So, Sigg is uber cool, and I wiped away a tear from Mia’s face when she realized she was not going to get the Hello Kiddy water bottle. I need these puppies to be able to withstand a visit with Mother Nature and her mighty powerful waves.
Since ours will primarily be used on Calypso, I had to take these things into consideration. Boats get hot. I mean, since they float around on the water soaking up the rays and with no air conditioning, well, we get toasty. Stuff also gets thrown around. Yes, we stow things when we are in motion, but I refuse to be the water bottle police with my kids, chasing them around asking if they have put them someplace safe. I will be too busy drinking rum and getting a tan on deck for any of that nonsense.
So, I found Klean Kanteen, and called the company and fell in love. Stainless steal + boat = cold water, no leaching, and no dents.
The Kanteens came in the mail yesterday, and I LOVE them. They are thick, sturdy, and I have not had one dirty cup in my sink since I handed them out. The kids fill them with filtered water from the fridge, so I have not even had to bring down the water dispenser yet.
Then I found these cool thingies, and I ordered 6, with a different color for each one of us, so now we can tell our bottles apart, and avoid the sweating that stainless is known for. (I got the cool dots. Awesomeness)
I bought the bottles off of Kleen Kanteens website, but due to HUGE numbers of orders with the BPA publicity freak out, they are taking a 2 week break to restock and figure out how to meet such huge demand for reusable water bottles. So, I browsed around on the Reusable Bags site after ordering my wetsuit thingies and found this pairing. That is a pretty big savings when you buy them together like that. I found a coupon code for 20% off as well.
So, if you have not jumped on board with saving our planet yet and reducing the risk of our children having 2 headed babies one day, go get a reusable water bottle.
I bought the 27oz for everyone except Mia. She got the 18oz and it fits her perfectly. I am also very happy with the water bottle lids. They have a little cap that is attached to the neck of the bottle, so it won’t get lost. The top pops up easily. Mia has no problems with it.
I’ll let you know how I like them in a few weeks after we have tossed them around a bit etc.
And if you are wondering…….no, I am not advertising. None of that horse s&*t here. I am just really pleased with the quality of these bottles and wanted to share the love, dudes.
She was so stoked, she turned the board around and was ready to do it again.
She pretty much stood up on every wave Bill pushed her into. Bill would shove her into the wave, and run behind her, so she was safe. It was a blast to watch….and a bit nerve wracking. The board flipped over and landed on her at one point, but she stood up, flipped it around and was right back out there again. She is tough as nails.
At the end of the day she told me “I want to go home and watch “Surfer Girls” (Blue Crush) with you, Mom.” (imagine my heart exploding)
Heathers dog Chuck is dog cool to the 9th power. The pup is obedient and well trained, no doubt.
But can he do this?
**edit to add that this little lizard creature is named Geek. He belongs to my son Quinn and is a Leopard Gecko. He is the most docile creature ever. Mia was playing “house” with him in her Pony Teapot, and was putting little pony food etc on Geek and this is how I found him. I spewed coffee, LMAO and ran for my camera.
I have been away from the helm here for a bit. We had a family emergency and had to travel out of town for several days. My FIL was quite ill and to make a long story short, ended up with a couple of stents around his heart.
All is well now, and they are on their way back home as I type this.
Things I am grateful for today:
-God and his miracles.
-My FIL….the man is the sweetest, most gracious man and I am so happy we will have him with us for a longer time frame than what was supposed on Wednesday.
-My MIL, who loves her husband and is a most awesome example of a wife.
-My BIL and SIL who made Bill and I laugh like we have not in a very long, long time.
-My friends who took my children in and cared for them so we could go and tend to my FIL.
-Life. Because it is a short ride, and we really need to spend more time appreciating it.
We are feeling the pull of summer here. The days are consistently warm now, and in spite of old man winter trying one last time to lay his hand on us at the coast, the sun is out and bathing suits, baggies and tanks have taken over our town.
With the warmth and gorgeous weather comes the inability for us to stay focused on our home schooling. We procrastinate in the morning until the next thing we know, it is lunch and we have not even opened up a book.
I find myself drawn to the boat more and more. It is where I want to be…surrounded by her warm teak wood, the heat of the deck underneath my feet, and the sound of the wind in the rigging
So, to shake things up a bit, we have been heading to the boat mid-morning and spending the day there. We sit in the cockpit and do math, science and read while gulls fly past and ducks beg for food off the transom.
You would think that is would be distracting, but the fact of the matter is, we get more done there and I don’t find myself frustrated by resistance from him. Even math gets done without the constant struggle we normally have.
………………….well, I never said he liked it. Blek, me either, but it is a necessary evil. A tool he will use to figure out how the universe works. So learn it he must.
After school work is done, we make lunch and eat it on the bow of the boat, watching the weekday activity on the docks that is so different from the hustle and bustle of the weekend. The live aboards wash their boats, carry laundry back and forth from the clubhouse, and everyone has their coffee in the shade of a palapa, talking about the weather, fishing conditions and other boat talk. We watch for a bit, then we go swimming.
When we were in the process of buying Calypso, it seemed like such a hassle. From the time we found her to the day they handed me the keys, it took almost 6 weeks. It was so frustrating and maddening. We had planned on staying at the coast for the month of June, but the difficulties in securing title on the boat extended our stay by a month, and in that time we fell in love with this place. You see where I am going with this? That’s right….coincidences. I just don’t believe in them. I believe in fate. That things happen for a reason.
The name we chose for the boat is significant to me on so many levels. Since I was a child, I was drawn to the sea. I grew up watching Jacques Cousteau, and would climb aboard Calypso with him every week to explore the mysteries of the deep. I ached to be part of that world. I knew, even as a child, that God had given me this desire. It was part of me, the way my hand and foot were. I loved the ocean and all of its creatures with a passion that was palpable to those around me.
Like some migrating animal, at 19 I pointed my car south and rooted myself in sand. Galveston was my Archipelago, my Galapagos…a place that shaped me and helped me evolve into what God had willed for me all along.
I lived there for 12 years………and then we moved inland. I believe that moving from my watery world and onto solid, arid ground was meant to be. We needed to grow and change in ways that were not possible in Galveston.
It would be another 12 years before we found our way back to the coast.
I am not sure I could have continued to appreciate my aquatic gifts if we had remained in Galveston. I think I lost myself when we moved inland, and only by losing yourself can you find your way back to your purpose and appreciate it for what it is.
Calypso brings me full circle. I am that child again, splashing in the water, turning over every rock in search of creatures, wild hair flowing, a smile perpetually on my face. Last week, I stretched myself out in the sun on her bow as we sailed over a glassy sea. I reached out my arm and tried to touch the water………..I don’t want to just touch it, I want to understand it. What an amazing thing God made. I want to help others understand it. I want to fight to save it and all of the creatures it holds. I truly believe that God planted this gift inside of me and it is time to let it grow again. Time to plant it in my children as well.
They will grow up in a place that I only dreamed of as a child. They will splash and play in the waters of my childhood mind, and I will get the joy of teaching them about it and experiencing it with them.
Jacques Cousteau once said “”One protects what one likes….and one likes what enchanted us.”
The definition of enchant is: to attract and move deeply : rouse to ecstatic admiration
What makes me amazed about this picture is the fact that I took it while on a boat, in 20mph winds, with the boat swinging in a wide arch at anchor, and without a tripod. I used the 70-300 lens with Vibration Reduction, and I have decided I want to marry this lens and have it’s babies.
“In sailing , heaving to (also heave to) is a way of slowing the boat’s forward progress, fixing the helm and foresail position so that the boat doesn’t have to be actively steered, thereby allowing the crew to attend other tasks. It is commonly used for a “break” while waiting out a storm, or by the solo sailor as a way to provide time to go below deck or attend to issues elsewhere on the boat (including taking a lunch break). ”
In the photo above, notice that the foresail (the sail in front) is not being allowed to tack over to the same side as the mainsail (big sail). Bill did this, heaving to, not because we lost a man overboard, or because there was an urgent matter to attend to. The weather was GORGEOUS, the sun warm and lovely. He did it just because. To savor the moment and slow down our progress back to shore. He let go of the tiller and walked around the boat, taking it all in. The boat just floated in the same place….blue-green water below and powder blue sky above. Our tiny island suspended in time.
I am heaving to. Not to tend to anything urgent or to weather a storm. I am doing it ……..just because. Like Bill, I want to take it all in.
I mean, paleeeease. I do believe he showed more interest in the top of his Fresca can than all the sunshine, blue water, white sails against a gorgeous sky and dolphins……..we are killing him. Right? Mean, mean parents.
Somebody is turning 4 very, very soon. She is growing up, and as much as that pains me, it also makes me feel so much joy that it squeezes my heart and has me dazzled. It is like living with an actual fairy.
If I did not have an SLR camera, this whirlwind child would rarely be caught “on film” for me to ponder some years in the future. I want to remember everything about him. How long his eyelashes are. The sand dollar necklace that he wears with love swinging from his small neck. How he inherited his fathers broad shoulders.
His hands in the sand.
I gotcha! My shutter speed is faster than you are, little man.
The temp is supposed to reach the upper 70’s today, edging its way into the 80’s tomorrow, and climaxing on Saturday with sunny skies and a temp approaching 90.
The last part of that sentence made me feel all hyper and giddy.
Water temps are hovering around 65 degrees. Still chilly, but maybe with temps near 90 on Saturday, there is a strong possibility that I might just get my pasty white body into the water…..it there is any degree of surf at all.
In other news, I have been experiencing these horrible, one sided headaches from time to time. They feel like my nerves on my scalp and down my face are on fire and that little men are inside my head, pushing outward on my skull while stomping on my brain. I have been getting them for some time now, and recently have been doing some detective work to find their cause.
I do believe I have finally figured it out…..I get them each and every time I drink Starbucks coffee. Yup. I drink coffee at home (organic, fair trade, shade grown Ruta Maya) and never get the headaches, but within hours of a Starbucks doppio compana espresso, the left side of my head is in agony. The headache lasts all afternoon, through the night and into the next day. It is most certainly the Starbucks.
Which leaves me to wonder why? Is it the way they process the coffee? Maybe the chemicals and poisons used on the coffee plants?
Or is it the freaky, frisky barista who made my espresso yesterday. When I asked for just a very small dollop of whip cream, he danced over and handed me the cup and said “You got it! I’ve got your backside covered, literally and figuratively”, and then he winked and used his hand to shoot at me with an imaginary pistol. Oh baby….not.
When I told Bill about his little weird display, he said “What the hell was that about?” and I replied, “Not sure, maybe one too many espresso shots…..but I think I need you to do that little wink and some pistol action, baby”.
Anyhow, I won’t be buying any more coffee from Starbucks.
I much prefer to brew my own cup and wander out to the hammock for some solitude.
Well, my own version of solitue that has several kids and a dog piling into it with me.
**update…headache is now gone…and the comment glitch that I had is gone too, so comments and page scrolling are working again. Sorry dudes. Dang, how long was it like this??? I was thinking no one liked me anymore. (sniff)
**I was hacked. One of the themes I had uploaded had an “archives” file that was diverting all of my comments and archives into neverland. I found the file, it is deleted, and all is right with the world again.
In another effort to grasp the endless summer, changes are going on here at And Baby Makes 6! The most obvious being appearance. I am not one to like things to stay the same for very long. All you have to do is count how many homes we have owned in the last 13 years (8), and you be in touch with that fact.
Mostly, I am finding the need for a bit more privacy since we have moved to a larger town. That coupled with the fact that there is mucho to do here, I am just losing my desire to be online. So, the blog has been simplified. The nav bar at the top, and the nav bar at the bottom (Next) will get you where you want to go. One post per page, no ads. No categories.
Bill and I were sitting in our room yesterday, talking randomly, and I said. “You know what I can’t wait for?”
And he replied “A warm beach” without missing a beat. Those were the exact words floating in my head.
Sometimes it is a bit spooky how much we know each other.
There seems to be a battle going on here. Warm and Cold are fighting it out, and it appears that Warm is winning.
These cold fronts blow through, leave us chilled for 1/2 to 1 day, then the warm tropical air blows out the cold, and we are back into shorts and tanks. Ahhh!
Soon our quiet evenings on our back porch will return. We can sit and visit in the warm tropical air as the blue herons fly through our yard and the whistle ducks fly home to their inland pond.
There will be many weekend nights spent on the boat, rising early to sail off to some anchorage along the islands of the Texas coast….returning with the setting sun to dock the boat, tie her up and sit at the marina’s outdoor tiki bar enjoying a margarita and some calypso music.
With all of this the temperature in the Gulf is slowly creeping up. This is one thing that I look forward to in the spring. It means the beach will be warm as well.
I want to share a couple of very random images with you. I take a kazillion pictures, most are pics of little moments in time of our life. Probably meaningless to most, but important to me. You may have seen this one:
….it is a sight I know of so well….Bill working on a boat. The open toolbox in the cockpit, boat parts everywhere. The odd smell of the toolbox…..greese mixed with the metalic smell of nuts and bolts. Taking apart a boat and putting it back together the way it suits you is a common practice among sailboat owners. There is always something that needs fixing and Bill loves to tinker with the boat. Images like this remind me of summer, racing, the sound of wind whistling through the rigging, and the joy of being outside.
This next one is of my boys:
…..it was so hot that day. The smell of warm wood from the dock floated in the air, mixing with the other smells of the ocean. The boys were watching trigger fish feasting on the barnacles attached to the pilings. They were also dropping small pieces of wood into the water and having “boat” races. Later they would take off in the dinghy, exploring the little islands outside of the marina, the musty smell of the marsh surrounding them, crabs skittering through the reeds along the shore.
That red cooler was full of sparkling water, Sprite, Tecate and snacks of fruit, cheese and pico dip. When I put my hand on Cody’s back, it was so hot from the sun beating down on him. My kids get so tan here at the coast, no matter the amount of sunscreen I slather on them.
That picture reminds me of summer. The hot, Texas summers at the coast that I thrive on.
Things are warming up here for sure, and with that will come a summer full of adventures on land and the sea. Paddling out into the surf with the hot sun on my back. Dolphins surfing off the bow of our boat. Taking the boat offshore and living in it for our vacation. There will be islands to explore, shells to seek, campfires on the beach, and the simple enjoyable gift of just being together.
It won’t be perfect. There will be work for Bill, screaming toddlers, bickering boys, bills to be paid, the rainy season, PMS, and a whole host of unpleasantries. But that is life, you know? The difficult is always mixed in wth the good.
I have come to realize that there is an Endless Summer. It lives in your head and heart….an island inside of you. It is a choice that you must make, not a place to visit. It comes with the attitude of gratefulness. It is la isla bonita.
I am seizing that. Won’t you?
There shall be
eternal summer
In the grateful heart.
-Celia Thaxter
When I first walked through the den, all the My Little Ponies were standing upright, my daughter making wee little Pony voices for them. They seemed happy and as colorful, bulky and awkward as ever.
The next time I walked through, I found this:
Hmm. What happened in Ponyland???
Did they:
a. ride one too many rainbows?
b. lie down for a nap?
c. realize that they were living in a technicolor dream and awoke to the reality that, sometimes, life was in black and white?
It is strange sometimes to see how animals slide into our lives, bringing love into it that is just nothing short of magical.
Our little dingo like creature has stolen everyones hearts, including my husbands.
She is the first one to great him when he comes home, and his stance on “Animals must be outside at all times” has turned into “Dingos must be inside at all times, save for potty breaks and chasing squirrels”.
She used to sleep in a crate at night, until we got her a little nest like bed. Now every evening Bill brings her bed into our room and places it ON our bed near the foot, and Honey jumps up and snuggles down in it for the night.
This is huge. The man would NEVER consider allowing a dog in his bed before. Ever. What you have here is the melting of his practical, man heart…for a dog.
She is really captivating. She is smart, affectionate, and excellent with the kids. Every morning we go to wake up her “Boys”. She runs in each room, gets on their beds and jumps on them, licking and wagging her tail. Then she moves on to the next room. She knows Mia as her “Baby” and Bill is “Daddy’s Home” because she hears the kids yell that when they hear his key in the lock.
She follows me everywhere. I cannot leave the room without her tagging along and finding a spot next to me to curl up. It is better than a fireplace.
Honey is a pound puppy. A dog that someone rejected. She was elusive when we first got her. She would not make eye contact with me at all. Nothing I could do would make her look at my face. I don’t take that as a sign of physical abuse, but just plain neglect. She didn’t know how to relate to people at all.
Now she is one of us. A people dog. She will come up to me and I can take her face in my hands and she will gaze into my eyes. Her face softens and her ears go down, and she wags her tail. She does not avert her gaze, ever.
In college I was told by my Animal Behavior professor that dogs have no self awareness…..that they have no souls.
I strongly disagreed then, and I still do today. When Honey looks me in the eye, and holds my gaze, I see pure joy and love, radiating from her soul.
I do not believe that the ability to feel and give love can experienced by something without a soul.
When I was about 8yo, I had a pet mouse that died after 3 years of being in my life. I remember crying to the priest at my school…the same priest who baptised me and married Bill and I. I was crying because someone had told me that mice don’t go to heaven….that pets do not have souls. To this day I will not forget what he said. With a smile full of God’s love and peace, and a soft voice he said “Oh child. I believe that God has a place in his kingdom for all of the creatures he created and loves.”
You know what…..I think he was right.
*the above photo was blurry, but I loved it, so I hope it doesn’t make you go crosseyed.
I’ll walk in the rain by your side
I’ll cling to the warmth of your tiny hand
I’ll do anything to help you understand
And i’ll love you more than anybody can
And the wind will whisper your name to me
Little birds will sing along in time
Leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
I love the thought of the falling leaves bowing down………..John Denver was just beautiful.
I imagine this has other names, but this is the concoction that we came up with one day when we were out of rum (gasp! Never run out of rum at the coast).
-Frozen Bacardi Real lime Mixer (or frozen lemonade)
-gin
-ice
-lime seltzer water (or lemon)
-lime sugar (or lemon…I am sure you got that by now)
Fill blender 1/2 full with ice. Add 1/2 can of Bacardi lime mixer. Pour in gin (this should be stored in the freezer so it is nice and cold) to taste. I don’t really measure the booze, but I would imagine I put in about 2 full shot glasses in each blender of frosty goodness. Turn blender on and blend until very smooth.
Pour into a glass and fill about 2/3 full. Now take that cold seltzer water and pour about an ounce on top. Sprinkle with lime sugar. Top with a lime wedge and enjoy!!!
I am trying very hard to turn loose of my frustrations and not allow them to jack with my life. But, damn, Thursday was rough.
Nothing in particular happened. That is the absolute beauty of hormones. Nothing has to happen to make me feel like this. It just comes out of the blue and slam dunks me to the floor.
And as fast as it comes, it goes. There is a most definitely a catch to making it go. I have to get my mind back on the things that are good and true in my life.
I feel really sorry for Bill when I am like this, because the truth is, I am a real bitch to deal with. I guess love gives him the strength to wrestle with it, but I also think it is just in his character to see the good in everything, even when I cannot see it in myself.
Sunday we went out for breakfast, and afterward I grabbed my iPod and went out the door for a run, before anything else could come out of my mouth to ruin the day. Exercise grounds me and helps shake the fog.
I walked at first, then I ran. And I ran and ran. I ran until sweat ran down my face. I ran until all the buzzing, angry words disappeared from my head. I ran and listened to John Denver sing words of beauty and love. I ran as I allowed my thoughts to turn to our boat. I ran until all of the frustration was gone.
Then I walked to my car and drove home.
As soon as I arrived, we loaded up the truck and went to the boat.
Bill prepared the lines, then I took us out of our slip, and out of the harbor. Up went the sails, and she took the small breeze and ran with it. I shut off the engine and asked Bill where we were going.
He replied, “I don’t know. You’re the captain today”.
And so we sailed across water that I feel as if I have known my whole life. Ancient water, like an old friend, that greats me with its mysterious, swimming life forms teaming below its surface.
What gives me euphoria? The sea….that amazing liquid I have found my way back to after 10 years, like some reverse, Darwinian creature.
Euphoria tries to elude me. It plays games with me, hiding behind the clouds and my ability to just accept the gift from God of living in this amazing place, no strings attached.
Sunday it found me as the southern wind filled our sails and the boat, eager to accept the gift for me, glided across a bay filled with dolphins.
I have baggage I need to let go of. It is no ones fault except my own. I have allowed it to take the wind from my sails at times and from having full peace here. I have allowed it to steal the glory God deserves.
Today I close my eyes, raise up my hands and open them, allowing God to take those things away on the wind.
Just a quick update before the weekend on the status of Miss Mimi Smartiepants and her arm.
In answer to a couple of questions….she is doing great and yes, she did break it jumping on the couch. Thank you for asking in comments and via e-mail.
All I can say is, ugh.
She was flinging herself around the sofa, and I asked her to stop, so she jumped one…last…time and flung herself fist first into the arm of the couch.
Her wrist hit, buckled, and she has something called a torus in her forearm. The bone buckled, but did not snap in half.
She will be in the splint for 2 weeks, and then we will check it again.
It has not slowed her down in the least, as you can see here
She whooped her Dad in a friendly game of soccer.
Newsflash….Just this very moment, as I was typing this, she climbed up on the couch and started JUMPING ON IT AGAIN.
Where is some wood, so I can bang my head against it.
Thank God it is Tropical Drink Friday. Tonight will be Gin Freezes. Won’t you join me?
I love pelicans. They are so strange and prehistoric looking.
I enjoy photographing them in all their ancient weirdness.
Look at the feathers on these white pelicans, all fluffy and white. Can you see each feather…each strand of down?
Oh, you can’t see them that well. Here, let me help….
Your old eyes still need to see things a bit closer….well alrighty. Here is the same photo, magnified X 100%, and cropped yet again.
This photo was taken down the pier, up the beach and across the road…while sitting in my car and without the aid of a tripod.
I used a Nikon 70-300mm 4.5-5.6G IF-ED with VR(Vibration Reduction). It came in the mail yesterday, along with the very excellent and affordable 50mm lens used for yesterdays photo of Mia. (If you own a Nikon SLR and want to make one investment to increase the quality of your photos, buy the 50mm F 1.8 D. It is less than $120 and is a dream to use.)
Cropping this photo with my original lens would have been impossible. The “shake” on that lens would have distorted the photo as I enlarged it…..a tripod was a must. If I can get the above quality without a tripod, imagine how the pics will look WITH a tripod.
I am so impressed with these lenses. Both the 50mm and the 70-300mm have been on my wish list for a very long time and so far they were sooo very worth the wait.
I plan on doing some more serious wildlife photography in the near future, but I have a long way to go and will be taking some lessons from a professional here in town.
“U r not suppozed to c meez, high in my tree top hyding spot”
Here, enjoy an adorable, dingo creature. No flash, natural light. I didn’t even edit the images except to re-size them to fit on this site. The brightness, color and sharpness are all unedited.
I have discovered the world of “no flash required”…..anywhere or anytime.
Ignore the food on her face, and the bug bite on her lip….focus instead on counting her eyebrow hairs….or her freckles…or possibly her skin cells.
This was taken using a new Nikon 50mm 1:1.8 D lens, fresh from the box…in the house, with no flash.
This lens is genius. I think it went to Yale… or maybe it is a Harvard man.
All I know is, it just became infinitely easier to chase down a moving target and have it look like something other than a drug induced smear of color and eyes.
If you have not already, you really need to make this adorable meal for your kiddos. We made this for the kids Valentines Day meal, and they loved it. Easy to prepare and so fun. I followed the recipe, save for the baking part. I just added the cheese and milk while the noodles were steaming hot, and served it like that. Oh, and Bill threw a few of the octopuses on the grill. They didn’t coil their arms as well as the ones in the boiling water, but they were tasty.
Mom and Dad had grilled ribeyes. Mmmmmmmmm. The kids were all “Why aren’t you having hot dogs?” and we were all, “Grilled, medium-rare ribeye does not a hotdog make. Mommies and Daddies require raw meat every now and then”.
Oh, and we had white cake with buttercream frosting for desert. Mm mm mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Raw meat and lard. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Getting old is hell on the body. I experienced another birthday a few weeks ago, and with it a new resolve to get fit this spring.
I have lots of incentive……a long boat trip in which I had better have some upper body strength in which to haul and trim sails with.
And beach weather. (yes, I know to never start a sentence with “and”, but this is not English 101 so who cares, right?)
Beach weather has already arrived here. No, I am not kidding. Saturday I was walking down the beach wearing a bathing suit and getting a tan. Yes way!
I felt very self conscious as well. There is no doubt that Christmas got the best of me.
So, I have been running moderately, using my stepper, walking and stretching.
The stretching thing is tough. My muscles and tendons are so very tight. It took me weeks to be able to touch my toes, but I am finally here:
Ignore the giant thigh thing you see….and the white age spots. Instead focus on the fact that I am able to finally touch my forehead to me knee.
Yeah! World peas!
In my ripe old age, I covet this fact. It means that I am actually achieving something with my exercise and that my body is not giving out just yet.
It also is something Bill cannot do. Neener, neener.
I leave you with my goals to reach for this spring:
Tone up.
Lose that last, damn 15lbs once and for all.
Be able to run 10 miles without stopping (or aid of assisted oxygen and an EMS support team) by May.
Be able to stand and flat hand my palms to the ground without bending my knees.
Paddle out to surf without feeling too wiped out to catch waves once in the line-up.
Dock the boat by myself without smashing a hole in the hull.
Thursday night has a new tradition……invented by mom and dad.
They get to plan, shop for and prepare the family meal on Thursday nights.
Last week they made Pad Thai.
Even the little ones contributed by squeezing some fresh lime.
They even get the honor of washing all the dishes while mom and dad kick back.
Frying up some oyster po’ boys is on the menu this week. Yum.
They really had fun, and I think it is so important for them to learn how to cook good food and understand the work that goes into the meals prepared for them.
**always, always supervise your kids around boiling water and hot grease. It just takes an instant for a pot to flip over and spill on the little ones.
When you make the perfect cup of cappa, sit down to browse the net, and knock the perfect cappa over onto your new laptop.
How do you know that you have your priorities in order and money means nothing to you?
When, instead of rushing to remove the keyboard and mop up the coffee to save the computer, you grab your portable drive, plug it in and transfer your photos before the computer can shut down forever…..when they are all safely copied, then and only then do you remove the keyboard and clean up the mess.
**I had JUST reformatted my memory card on my camera, deleting over 1200 photos from it, so I was freaking out because I had not moved them from my laptop to my external, portable drive. For those who think I am nuts, I spilled at least 2-4 oz onto it, so felt that it had for sure seeped into the mother board and I would only have a short window of time to transfer the photos. Status on the ‘puter is that it appears that it just blew out my keyboard and did not make it into the “guts”…..only time will tell.
Mia: Well, you know, that thing we had yesterday or something?
Me: That narrows it down. Could you tell me what the thing you are talking about could be?
Mia falling to the ground screaming: MOM! You never listen to me! GET ME SOMETHING TO EAT!!
I improvised, and pulling something out of my hat, got her a yogurt….and put sprinkles on it. The last time we had it with sprinkles was something like, last year.
She was all, “Yeah, that’s what I was talking about”.
When the screaming, whining and overall noise level in your house reaches a point in which you are quite certain dead people would be begging for Valium, enter your husband…home from work early, with a fresh, creative mind that has enough sense to know that mom is about to blow, and moves the chaos to the wilds of the backyard….where it stays for the entire afternoon, evening and NIGHT!
I have had a cooking bug lately. It must be the coming of spring that is bringing it on.
Or the fact that my friend Pam sent me The Mediterranean Light cookbook for my birthday just a couple weeks ago. Pam is a real life friend who I have known my whole life. We are only 3 months apart in age, and when our moms used to get together (they live right across the street from my childhood home) they would put us in the same crib together while they had coffee. Go say “Hi” to Pam.
I’ll wait…….
I saw a picture of the Torta on her website and it looked to die for, so I had to make it.
My firt mistake was to start the dough at 3:15p.m.. I had just enough time to put together the water and the yeast before I had to leave for school pick up. Upon return, after 4pm, I added the flour and started the mixer up. I allowed it to knead until it was time to go pick up yet another child from school. Turned off mixer, picked up kid, returned and started mixer again. 10 inutes later I had to leave again to take a kid to soccer practice. At this point, this is the worlds most kneaded lump of dough.
Upon return at 5:30, I kneaded dough by hand just a tad, then turned it in an oiled bowl and placed it in the warming drawer of my oven so it could rise…..for 2 hours.
Then I make the filling, which involves roasting some red peppers, peeling them while helping 10yo download Weird Al songs from iTunes because he must have them TODAY, picking basil from my garden, giving Mia some Barbie vitamins because WE FORGOT THEM THIS MORNING, chopping onions, garlic and basil, painting on the back porch with watercolors that are getting EVERYWHERE, and lots of mixing. It has spinach, egg, cottage cheese, herbs, onion, garlic and some parmesan cheese.
6:30 Bill is home with the soccer kid, whom he has picked up on his way home from work. Bill is starving and asking what is for dinner. At this point dinner is a lump of dough and a large bowl of strained spinach.
6:45 The kids are pulling the drawer on the warmer and looking at the large dough ball and deciding if it is growing or not.
6:50 Bill lets me know he is starving again.
6:55 The kids are now starving.
7:00 Bill pulls out some crackers because he is STARVING. The man has the most efficient metabolism ever and has been experiencing hypoglycemia since his stroke. He MUST HAVE FOOD.
7:15 My kids have now poked at the growing dough and are wondering how it could possible turn into something edible. I may not have to punch it down, since that has already been done for me.
7:30 Dough has doubled in size. I roll it out 2/3 of it and line a springform pan.
7:35 Begin filling torta. Layer of 1/2 of spinach mixture, layer of roasted red peppers, then cottage cheese mixture, then more peppers, then the rest of the spinach mixture.
7:40 Roll out top to torta, cover it and crimp edges. It looks very……rustic.
7:45 Place torte in the oven and set timer for 45 minutes. Kids all start moaning and groaning! 45! MINUTES!! I thought it would be done at 7:30?!!! Tell them they will get worms and salmonella if they eat it now…..never eat raw egg or raw dough.
8:00 Bill reminds me that he is really, really, really starving and that nothing could be good enough to be in this much agony for.
8:15 Bill reminds me that the food may come out of the oven at 8:30, but it “MUST THEN COOL FOR ANOTHER 15 MINUTES…….and I AM STARVING……SEE MY RIBS???”
8:20 Kids open oven door and oh and ahh over the torta and its fluffy largeness.
8:30 Remove torta from oven, being careful not to take off broiler coils, because yes…it has risen. Alot.
It begins the cooling process, which brings on more hungry “I am STARVING” groans from children and husband.
8:40 Slice torta and serve it to all the emaciated people of my family. The little kids realize it is filled with spinach and only eat the outside bread.
This was so delicious it was sinful……and for me, well worth the wait.
Next time I might start making it upon waking at 6am. Maybe then, between all the driving, watercolor painting, Barbie vitamins, iTunes and cooking it will be done before bedtime.
There are times in life where something significant happens, and you do not recognize it until hours later when you are in bed, pondering the event.
Much talk has been going on via the internet about purging and letting go of all the “stuff” in our lives. I am a big fan of this idea, as we just purged a tremendous amount of pure crap from ours. I got rid of so much that I had held onto for years. Things that really had no bearing on my life anymore. Things that had not seen the light of day in a decade.
Then there were those things that I just cannot turn lose of. The stuffed animals that were mine when I was a child. Some of my kids baby toys. A small box for each child with some of their baby clothes.
Over the years my husbands family has handed down some things to us that were important to them. Most of the things are in small boxes in the closet, away from tiny hand that could break them. Many things, such a some furniture, we returned to them when we moved here, as we just did not have the room.
One of the things that was given to us many years ago was Bill’s grandfather’s black doctors bag. It was very fragile, and when Bill tried to use it it literally fell apart. We ended up throwing it away because it was in such bad shape.
Yesterday we drove up north to meet Bill’s folks for lunch and to exchange some Christmas presents. After we ate, we went to the car and the kids opened their presents, and we gave Dad and Sue their gifts. They gave Bill and I an amazing metal sculpture of sea birds….just gorgeous.
Then my FIL went back to the car and asked me to follow him. He pulled out a case, flipped it open and proceeded to pull out a telescope. Not just a spy scope to peep on your neighbors, but a Jovian 4 celestial scope. He continued to pull out lens, filters, and adapters of all kinds. I knew he was giving us a telescope, but I had no idea it was one of this caliber. No idea at all. I had told them that we were studying astronomy and that we would be getting a telescope sometime in the spring, so he decided to give us his.
He also pulled out another case. In this one was a Minolta 35mm camera. It has attachments to allow you to hook it to the telescope and take celestial photographs…photos of the moon, Saturn, Jupiter and galaxies.
He told me that the telescope was given to him by a doctor friend who came to visit them when they lived in California. He loved the view that their house had, and promptly went out to the store and bought the telescope for them so they could take full advantage of the fact that they had views of the California coast. It was a much treasured gift.
That was more than 25 years ago. It still looks brand new, as does the Minolta.
When we got home, I called them to ask a question about the telescope, and in the conversation that followed, my FIL told me that his father had given him a camera when he graduated from medical school. At the same time he also received a 70-210 telephoto lens from a dear family friend, who had since passed away, and he had meant to bring it for me, but forgot it. I told him that I would keep it for the boys when they were old enough to be reponsible with it, and he said “I gave it to you. You are the only one who has an interest in photography and such, so I want you to have it.”
I, his daughter-in-law, received such a priceless gift. Who am I that this family has accepted me so graciously as one of their own?
When Bill crawled into bed that night, I told him what his dad said. He replied, “I had no idea that is where that camera and lens came from.” I said “It really means alot to him, and he gave it to me. I know that was hard for him to part with it. Probably like the doctors bag…..the one we threw away.” Bill said “I feel so bad about that, but it was in pieces. In hindsight we should have taken it to have it repaired.” I had tears rolling down my cheeks.
Some things have memories attached to them. They may not be your memories, but they are filled with value, love and have been cherished by those you love. They are inanimate objects. You can tell yourself that you are holding onto material things, but the plain damn truth is that you are holding on to something of value because it was valuable to someone who means the world to you. By keeping it and passing it on, you are keeping a small part of that person alive through the ages.
It is my hope that my childrens children will gaze through that telescope and view the same moon that their great-grandfather saw through it. They will turn the focus, putting their fingerprints over his. Maybe they will care for it so well that their children will watch through it a man walk on the moon again…..or step foot on Mars. Imagine that.
I plan on buying some film for that 35mm camera and photographing some planets with dad’s telescope. My children will hear how their Papa came to own the lens, and maybe one day in the not so distant future I can photograph my son with that camera and lens as he walks across the stage and graduates from medical school, carrying on a famiy tradition that spans 3 generations to date (my Bill is a Physician Assistant). Then I can give him the camera and repeat the story of how it came to be and why he was now receiving it.
There are things in life which are worth keeping. Care for them well, my friends.
I think that the next time we go to the beach and work with plaster of paris, I will wait until it is a more comfortable 98 degrees outside….or 100.
Apparently the cooler it is outside, the slower plaster dries. We found this out…this little fact……and spent an hour doing the equivalent to watching paint dry while cold wind whipped around us after being made even colder as it blew across the water.
Ahem.
So you start off with some plaster of paris. Mix it up according to the package directions. Be sure and stir all of the lumps around. Stand up and stomp your feet and dance around to get warm because you forgot your coat.
While you are doing this, have the kids make their designs in the sand. The designs should be pretty deep. You can make hand prints, or use beach toys in various shapes to make impressions in the sand.
Now pour the plaster over the impression. Take a spoon and smooth it out. Be gentle and don’t press too hard.
Now have your child spread sand over the top of it.
Now sit there, teeth chattering, and guard the slowly drying plaster as your youngest kids go play on the beach wearing a dress and short sleeve t-shirt with shorts as all of the older folks walk by clicking their tongues. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. They will have pneumonia by the ‘morrow. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” (have I mentioned how durn chilly it was?)
When the plaster appears to be dry enough, dig around and under it, then slowly and gently lift it up…..and I mean gently. One of ours broke in half as it was not thick enough….yes, it was Cody’s. Everything happens to that poor kid.
At this point it is still not dry enough to brush all of the extra tons of sand off, so place them on the carpet of your newly vacuumed car, load up the kids and head for home.
After about an hour, brush all the extra sand off….between the finger impressions etc…..if it didn’t all end up in the car, and you will have some little, reverse hand prints.
And now my espresso has worn off and I am done with craft Friday.
We did a craft this morning. It involved paint and glue guns, and lots of paper towels. And patience, which surprisingly I had even after 2 espressos (my sin is out….I am back on the beans).
Can you guess what it was.
Yes, we actually cut that square piece of felt…and also glued felt to the sides and box lid.
So what do you have when you pull back the perfectly cut square of pink felt?
No, it isn’t a tiny coffin, although at this point it may look like one.
It is a tiny quiet box, complete with little, strange people. There is a mommy with long flowing blond hair, svelt in her yellow apron, and a purple necklace (we all know who that is). A boy with a baseball cap, made by Quinn. A little girl with blond pigtails dressed in a tremendous amount of pink (can you guess who that is) made by Mia (with a tad of help) and a true-to-life daddy complete with a bald spot (I swear it was Mia’s idea…I had NOTHING to do with it).
We had so much fun making these. It was super easy, and Mia has been playing with her little family all morning.
Instructions to make a Quiet Family can be found at the very talented Scribbit. I sooo want the little fairy tale family, and will have to do one of those. Fairies would also be precious.
Quinn and I have been having a battle of wills when it comes to sitting down and doing his school work. Everything is much more interesting to him…playing tag with the dog, his gecko, the sun shining outside…..it was getting to the point that instead of being fun like I had hoped, it was becoming a chore that we must GET DONE WITH ALREADY.
Finally, after a particularly difficult morning, I sat down with him and asked him if he behaved like that at school. He said that , no, he did not act like that and when I asked him why, I got a response that hit the nail on the head. He said “Because it was easy”.
So, he is being challenged, but at what cost?
In the beginning I was all about staying on schedule. Get the work done and keep on target.
After thinking things through and reading some message boards, I have made some changes into how I want our homeschool to proceed.
What I want for us is to explore and learn. I want some hands on fun and adventures to shape the bulk of our day. I want to unschool with Sonlight.
The Sonlight Core that we are doing is 1+2. There is sooooo much in it to learn, and it is divided up into 36 weeks, but there is no way we can go through it all in that amount of time. There is no way I want to do that. I plan to take until at least May 2009 to complete it and spend more time in each area of study. I mean, going with the schedule we just plowed through Egypt…a place that we could probably spend months studying. So I am back tracking, because we NEED to make a sugar cube pyramid! Not to mention go to the beach and …..pretend we are in the desert in Egypt and are digging for mummies….or daddies. Or clams. Clams are in Egypt, right?
This afternoon we will be heading to the beach with some plaster of paris, some watercolors and beach toys. I will post the how to’s, the finished product and how it relates to our studies later today.
For now, I am off to my kitchen with the kids to make granola. I am hoping my underwear stays put.
My son took this photo of me. It is a rare instance when I am in a picture, as I am always the one behind the lens. Bill doesn’t like to take photos.
He lives in the moment, as it should be.
Me? I like to document things. I want my kids to pour over the photos one day when Bill and I are long gone and remember the good times. I want them to laugh out loud as they shuffle through them, and say things like “I am so glad mom took these pictures of us all”, and “Oh, look. Here’s Dad at the helm”.
Someone needs to be behind the lens. Now there are 2 of us.
In a mad rush we loaded the car, as we do every weekday morning, to drop off the big kids at school.
Mia was still in her pink satin nightgown, no shoes, wrapped in a warm blanket.
Honey was in the front seat, enjoying “Bye, Bye”….no collar, harness or leash. She was “naked” as the boys say.
Quinn was fully dressed, wearing Crocs and no coat.
I was in sweatpants, a white waffle thermal shirt with a pink sports bra and fuzzy Crocs….I don’t think I even had brushed my hair.
Do you see where I am going with this? Yeah. Um huh.
So, we drop off the boys, and head to check on the trailer at the RV park where we store it. There had been a ton of rain, so I wanted to see if all was well with the Little House.
We got there, and I turned off the car, leaving the kids in it while I walked around the RV. I was gone for like, 30 seconds, got back in and tried to start the van.
Ru ru ru ru ruuuuu.
I tried again.
Ru, ru, ru, ru, ru, ruuu.
I took a deep breath and tried again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
I screamed “Oh just great, you piece of cr…….ud”
I might have said crap. I might have even said some other stuff. I could have even wished it would go somewhere really far south.
A snow bird (winter Texan) came over and tried everything to get it started. He even beat on my full fuel tank with a hammer while myself, the kids and Honey sat inside the van waiting for it to blow.
We gave up, called a wrecker, and he loaded that piece of *#$t van up and I stood there holding a nightgown clad, barefoot toddler, a dog, as Quinn stood by reverently holding a box of donuts we had picked up before the van sucked so bad. (When we got out of the van I was like “DONT FORGET THE DONUTS. THEY WILL BE LIKE RUM TO ME WHEN THIS ORDEAL IS OVER”.)
So, there we stood, in the freezing drizzle, the road covered in mud. It was so insane I started laughing. I couldn’t put the dog down for fear she would haul ass down the road. I couldn’t put Mia down to walk, as she was barefoot and in a satin nightgown. All of the snow birds are peaking out the windows of their RV’s at the poor children and their goofy mother. So the wrecker dude takes pity on my poor, white-trash self and loads my pitiful children into the front of the truck, and takes them to the recreation hall as I walk down the muddy road carrying what appears to be a dingo.
Once at the rec hall, the park owner, who is so nice I am almost crying with gratitude, loads us in her car and takes us home.
And that is all.
Oh, no….I need to add that if the car starts when it gets to the dealership like it did last August when it died in similiar fashion….or like it did on Monday while I was in the city eating lunch with friends and had to call the dealership to come help….well, I justs might have to set it on fire and dance naked around it.
Now that is all.
edit: Yup, I knew it. As soon as they had it off the wrecker, the mechanic put the key in and it started right up. s*t*a*r*t*e*d r*i*g*h*t t*h*e S*a*m H*e*l*l u*p!!! So, everything is checking out fine. And dandy. Which apparently is typical when the fuel pump is going out. Which will cost $800, but they are not really sure it is the fuel pump as they can only test for that when it is not working…..which it is now, so they can’t…..and they can’t guarantee that it won’t go out again…cause you can never tell with fuel pumps. And if it fails again it might happen when I am driving down the highway with my kids, because fuel pumps are fun like that and all. And the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round…..etc. etc. blah blah.
This is the time of year that brings fog to the coast regularly.
The water is cool, and the air tries to heat up, and all hell breaks loose.
It usually burns off midday, but the chill that it brings in the morning just makes your bones rattle.
Trying to find inspiration to lug my camera around during this gray time of year is hard, but each morning I tuck it next to me in the front seat, load Honey and the kids up and do the morning drop off routine.
Today the fog just filled up my senses. Everything seemed magnified at the edge of visibility.
I was photographing some wild ducks, and out of the fog drifted a ghost.
Birds emerged amid the ordinary shapes and angles.
Little, inhabited islands appeared out of the fog.
Right now, as much as warm sand and blazing sun are what I long for, there is a sense of peace and ethereal beauty along the winter coast that settles me.
Love the mouth action here as Bill tries to set a hook.
You would think he landed a shark or somthing.
The poor, transparent, nervous bait.
And guess who caught the best fish of the day???
As soon as she figured out she had a fish on her Disney Princess’ fishing pole, she dropped it and ran away. I grabbed the pole before it was dragged into the channel and reeled in her little flounder as she stood by grossing out.
We combined PE and….um…..their ability to seek out a particular shape! Yeah, that’s it. I told them for their assignment they must find a perfectly round circle.
They both got an A+ today.
And I got some sand between my toes and some sun on my pasty white skin.
The weather was wonderful…it was chilly when we first got there, but later the temp got up to 70, and the sand was nice and warm.
And no, this is not going to become a blog about homeschooling these dudes:
It’s the weekend in less than 3 hours, so it will be a rum blog by this evening. ;*)
Sometimes I get confused
Somewhere around page two
I live the perfect crime
And crime pays more than it used to
They’re checkin’ the evidence
May be some charges pressed
The only one they got me on
is some misdemeanor craziness
If It All Falls Down, falls down, falls down
If they solve my life if they find me out
Never thought to keep all I have found
I have had my fun If It All Falls Down
I cannot recommend Sonlight high enough. We are doing Core 1&2, and it is a blast. I am learning as much as my kids!
We are using Saxon Math 2 (which has a bunch of review, so we are working fast through the first half of the book….and you were right Chris, the teachers manual is a waste of time…..overly repetitive), Handwriting Without Tears, Explode the Code for spelling and review, and Apologia Science (we are doing the Astronomy)….oh, and Spanish.
Things are pretty relaxed around here, as you can see from my last post. We follow the schedule somewhat…..but not every day. That is the beauty of Sonlight. You can pretty much do your own thing with it.
Even with the relaxing, we are doing so very much.
Quinn reads his chapter book outloud to us in the morning on the way to take the big kids to school, and when we return home, the little ones play for a bit. He is reading a book each day, so we should be finished with the entire year of Grade 2 readers by next Friday, and then we will start on the Grade 3-5 Advanced, which I know will take much longer.
We are pretty much done by 11am and have the rest of the day to play and explore.
Which leaves me to wonder what the heck they do at school with over 7 hours????
This morning I tried to call my husband on his cell phone, only to discover that he had left it on his bedside table along with his pager. I called him at work and asked if he needed me to bring them to him, and the answer was “no, I will be home early and no need for the pager when I am at work”.
I thought “Dang, now I have to call the front office if I need him”, which I realized was completely idiotic seeing that he will be home in 3 hours anyway.
The new issue of Outside arrived in our mailbox yesterday, and there was a very thought provoking article in it titled “Buzz Killers” by Marc Peruzzi. Go read it if you have not. It is in the February 2008 issue in the “Dispatches” section. You can’t miss the picture at the beginning of the article. It is a runner in the New York City Marathon, running while talking on a cell phone. Lunacy, I tell you. Marc states: “Tech toys are great. It’s the people who don’t know when to put them away that suck.”
I agree.
What have we become? We are obsessed with technology….cell phones, iphones, ipods, PDA’s, smart phones, computers, GPS’………the list goes on and on. God forbid we get out of touch when we run to the store for milk.
How many of you check your e-mail on your smart phone when you are at the park with your kids? Go on, don’t be shy. I am raising my hand.
How many of you waste the day on the computer, surfing and reading about other peoples lives while yours silently marches on without you?
Yup, that is me with my arm in the air.
Have you stood in the check out line at the grocery store, with a cell phone at your ear?
Do you think you would notice this view if you were engaged in a dicussion via cell phone with a friend about your new shoes or what so and so said about so and so.
Do you turn everything you do into a blog post in your mind?
I love blogging, and have no intention of shutting this one down, but I have made some changes in my life since last summer, and I intend to continue with the change.
Marc Peruzzi’s article made me think back to my life BEFORE I owned a computer and cell phone. A time when Bill and I went sailing and the sound of a ringing phone was alien on a boat. A time when we spent our evenings reading magazines and books instead of a computer screen.
And I want that back. I know that I have not gone off the dep end…my world does not revolve around the computer…but I know that I have wasted precious time on stuff that has no bearing on my life whatsoever, and it is sad.
So, slowly since last summer I have made changes that involved: limiting my IM time, turning off the damn computer, turning off the cell phone and getting my ass outside.
Now I am going for more freedom from those ties that bind.
My cell phone will not be used while I am at the store. If I bring it to the park, I will silence it. I will not drive and talk on it at the same time. Even when it is on, I am chosing not to answer it each and every time it rings. Same with my home phone. I intend to think of it as an emergency tool, not a necessity.
I will continue blogging here as usual, but nowhere else. My computer will not be turned on while I am homeschooling and reading with my children. It will also be off from 3:30pm on, unless researching something with my kids or husband.
I plan on reclaiming my freedom. I don’t want people to be able to reach me wherever I am. I don’t want to walk down the beach and hear the Cingular tone go off in my pocket. When I run, I want to hear the sound of my feet hitting the pavement instead of Green Day from my ipod. I don’t want to hear the tone from my computer announcing receipt of an e-mail while I am reading to my children. I love these modern gadgets, but I also like escaping from them and plan to do so more often.
I will leave you with the last paragraph of the article….a bit harsh, but truthfull none-the-less:
“Which is ultimately my beef with gadget abuse. It removes us from moments that are too precious to get pissed away scrolling through the images you just shot on your digicam, calling your girlfriend from the summit of Rainer, or editing footage on the chairlift-and showing it to me!-instead of kicking back and watching the snowflakes drift by. Web phones, hand held GPS units, bike computers with digital inclinometers, wee machines that play wee movies-every year there’s a new distraction. I use most of it, but not when it would make me look or feel like a schmuck. Kindly do the same”.
I’m back from freezing my tail end off in Ft. Worth for a week. Sheesh, how do you northern people do it? I mean, the temps were in the 20’s-30’s for most of the trip, and my kids were simply going ape from being cooped up inside. It was a Runescape marathon for them, as there were 3 computers available to them.
They did go outside once, squinting into the blinding light of the sun and gave my sister a coronary when they went down the street on their skate boards. The hill my mom lives on is very steep, and is the same hill that I broke my arm sledding on, hence the coronary. My brother on the other hand, ran out and joined them and I was sure he would break a hip or a tailbone.
It was such a fantastic visit, in spite of the cold. We spent some quality time with my mom, sister and her boyfriend, and the icing on the cake was that my brother joined in. I can’t go into the details as to why (spouse), but he refuses to isolate himself and his children from his family anymore, and for this I am so grateful. We have really missed out on some qualitiy sibling and cousin time (he has 2 young children), and plan on making up for it in the months and years to come.
The kids have been sick most of the holidays, and on the last day of our time with my mom, I called my friend P and asked if her lovely husband could see my daughter. I was suspicious that she had something serious, as the rash on her body was getting worse, she was cranky, and was sleeping until past 10am. No fever, no other complants. Dr. Husband Of P, the pediatrician, saw Mia, did a throat swab and “TaDa” she had strep throat. Strep throat=an abrupt halt to the rest of the vacation plans (which included a weekend in the hill country), so we loaded up on antibiotics and headed back to the coast yesterday. One…long….drive. Ugh, I most certainly didn’t calculate the distance to my moms into the decision to move. I miss her.
As we neared the bridge that would take us back to the beach where we live, I heard Cory say “Mia, look! The bridge! We are almost HOME” and she squealed “YEAAAAHH” and the rest of the boys chimed in with cheering. I think that is the first time I have heard them call our new town home.
Seeing the bridge gave me the same feelings of “home”. The view of people lined up fishing on the bridge, the first glimpse of water, the sweet smell of the ocean. It makes me aware of how a fish must feel when it is lifted from it’s womb of water, and exposed to air. Just a suffocating, lost feeling……and the relief it must feel when it is tossed back and enveloped
into that salty loveliness.
Our bodies are somewhere around 70% saline water. We have strong ties with the sea. Many people don’t feel this tie. They have no connection with the sea whatsoever. In fact, many people I know loath the beach and everything about it. This is about as foreign to me as foreign can be. The pull I feel to the water is so strong is is primal. I have felt it all of my life. The only way I can describe it is that it is like an overwhelming thirst after days and days in the desert with no water.
Today I feel like that fish. Quenched, relieved and at home, back in the salty loveliness of the coast.
It was so nice to make a Christmas memory in our new town, so I really think the kids feel at home here now.
We all had such a wonderful time, and it is one of those things that I don’t want to talk about. I just want to keep it special and private.
I hope you don’t mind.
I will share my presents from Bill. I got an elliptical stair climber, and I am working up to stepping 30 minutes each day. It is so not easy, and I love the workout I get.
The other present he gave me was a massage. Not a purchased one, but one given to me by himself after all the kids were in bed and the presents under the tree. An hour long, full body massage. Arms, legs, back, neck, head, feet, toes, hands, and fingers. So sweet.
Yup, I know how damn lucky I am.
Merry Christmas time and a Happy New year to you all!
So, I look forward to a Christmas party and guess what happens.
I get a cell phone call from my 10yo and he tells me that Quinn woke up from a nap feeling ill….apparently sick to his stomach….and head…and “by God just get thee home because he is sick”. I ask if they have reported said illness to the babysitter and I hear silence. “Um, no. We didn’t. We called you instead”.
So, we leave abruptly from our merriment.
Bill was the designated driver since he was on call with the clinic, so I have had 2 yummy margaritas and my buzz has been majorly harshed.
Arriving home,we find Quinn on the floor in the bathroom. Cody has made a soft pallet for him so he can be near the toilet if the barfs begin. (Must add here that the gift of nurturing is inborn, and that kid was born with it for sure.)
2 Tylenol and 30 minutes later, Quinn is perfectly fine.
Back to my buzz. I am not sure what the heck was in those margaritas, because by this point I had a drunk going….. a slurring words, sway-when-you-walk-Oh-man-the-babysitter-thinks-I-am-a-lush drunk. Mind you that this party began at 1:30pm and that is when the first margarita was set in front of me. In between the first one and the second, there were h’orderves served, as well as dinner which consisted of Chateaubriand, portabella mushrooms, salad etc. We arrived home around 6pm-ish and within 30 minutes I was officially drunk…..on 2 drinks consumed over 4 1/2 hours.
It was bizarre. I am so not talking a little drunk either. I was a lot drunk, and very pissy. I jumped Bill’s case about something trivial and staggered off to bed. I went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and had such deja vu it wasn’t funny….it felt as if I were 22 again (minus the wrinkles, gray hair, hemorrhoids, stretch marks and 20lbs) back in Yagas Cafe, feeling very, very buzzed, and primping myself for the hot, blond surfer I was finally hooking up with. The only thing missing was the “boom, boom, boom” of reggae music coming through the bathroom walls. Well, that and the 5 other girls jonesing for a spot in front of the mirror. My hot blond surfer was now in the other room with a few kids in his lap, instead of waiting for me at the bar.
When Bill and I make frozen drinks at home, we use rum. Rum, rum, rum. As evidence, here you see a frozen drink with lime, rum and midori;
Sometimes we have some gin or a glass of red wine. I never, ever get drunk.**
Obviously the margaritas I had were filled with some very cheap takillya, and lots of it.
Either that or I am a cheap drunk in my old age.
Bill votes for option number 2.
*Interesting side note is that I have no hangover whatsoever (headache, nausea etc), and at 6:00am still felt a bit drunk. WTF? I am wondering if they used Everclear in the drinks.
**Never say never. Never, never say never ever.
That cold front that Chris sent down to us got here, and mama it was cold…..for at least 12 hours. Sunday morning it was some God awful temperature, like 38 degrees.
The palm trees were all “what’s up with this?”
Bill decided that, of all days, he was needing to get outside or he would go crazy from being cooped up for almost 12 hours (now you know why we could never ever live where that white stuff likes to hang out…I would kill him) So, we went to the beach.
We found that animals had literally frozen mid-step.**
The kids decided to take off their shoes and run in the water. Chris’ norther blew all the water in the Gulf of Mexico down to Kathy in the Yucatan, so it was very shallow.
By then it had warmed up to around 40, so Quinn only got about 3 shades of blue instead of 10.
Note that he is the one in SHORTS (and yes, he does have at least one pair of long pants). We had to get him back into the truck and blast him with the heater, while the rest of us (Cory) died because “the heat is killing us (Cory) Quinn, hurry up and get warm for crying out loud”.
Today things are somewhat back to normal, with the temperature almost at 60 as I type this.
We have become so acclimated to the warmth here, that we can now officially be labeled as Barbies when it comes to chilly weather.
Spoilt, rotten, coastal Barbies.
**no large-ass birds were harmed in the making of this post. He thawed and then ate a fish, and it was good.
This afternoon we did something that I have been longing to do most of my adult life. Something that I had once thought would never happen.
It is funny how things turn out.
You see, I can admit it now. The pain has abated. The sadness and anxiety from the miscarriages has been replaced with a knowing. A knowing that it was you that was meant to be all along.
I can admit now that I wanted a girl.
A girl who loves all things glittery.
A girl whose voice can make the angels sing.
Your voice doesn’t make me sing, but it makes my chest clinch up and I feel as if I will die from the sweetness of it.
19 years ago, I went with your father and watched as all the mommies and daughters filed into the theater, dressed in their “pretties”. I remember thinking “I hope one day that is me with my daughter”.
Today, I helped you dress in your lovely Christmas dress, brushed your golden curls and left the house.
Today I took you, my daughter, to see the Nutcracker Ballet.
I watched as you gasped when the mice came on stage and how you stared and smiled at the ballerina’s feet as they danced on their toes.
It was truly a magical time, between mother and daughter.
As I sit here typing, with you asleep next to me, clutching the Nutcracker I bought for you tightly in your little hand, I cannot put to words how much this meant to me. I just can’t, sweetie. It will make me cry for the umptimillionth time today.
What I can say is this, so please listen carefully. I do not love you more than I love your brothers. You are not more special than each one of them. But, my sweet girl, you complete me. You are the icing on the cake of our family. A sweet ending like a fine dessert.
I took you, my sweet daughter, to see the Nutcracker for the first time, and it was everything I dreamed it would be…..even better.
I have been less chatty here lately, letting the pictures speak for themselves. I know, lazy. Dull.
I hope the new format is working well for you guys. I am trying my hand at hosting my own pictures. You may have noticed that my archives photos all disappeared one day, thanks to Flickr, so I am working here and there restoring them back to each and every post…way over 700 to be exact. It is about as fun as putting drops of acid onto my eyeballs.
I have been staying busy baking, decorating and trying to get all my ducks in a row in regards to withdrawing Quinn from school. I am also working on organizing the rest of his curriculum. A friend back home gave me a huge container of 1st an 2nd grade stuff, and I am busy combing through it to see what I can and can’t use.
We have joined our local homeschool group, and have been attending the meet-ups once a week. It is a fair sized group, with upwards of 30+ members. I have met 10 or so families and have found 4 so far that are using Sonlight, so that was pretty cool.
(Snore) Oh my God, I have done it. I reduced this post to one of those Christmas card letters. “What a year this has been! Muffy has been so active in the local Junior League, and has maintained a 4.0 at Harvard while juggling 4 intern jobs and a different “Harvard man” every night.”
I believe I will have something more interesting to say once I start drinking coffee again.
Until then, here’s a dog and a small, adorable child.
I just could not bear to bring down our usual ornaments this year. I wanted something bright, glittery and full of coastal charm.
Most of our other stuff is very antique and mission-like…..very Pennsylvania farmhouse-ish.
So the first step was to head to the beach and find some sand dollars. We found quite a few, and then hit the local shell shop for the rest. We found bulk starfish there as well.
I bought some supplies
Then aired out the starfish (I mean, phew…it would be good to let these bleach out in the sun as well) and allowed the sand dollars to bleach out in the sun.
The kids used glitter glue and spray glitter to decorate the shells. I am still cleaning up glitter from EVERY SQUARE INCH of my kitchen. Glitter glue sticks worked for the kids, but dang, when mom gets ahold of the glitter spray WATCH OUT!
Bill and I decorated a few.
They actually turned out pretty cute.
After they dried, I used a glue gun and attached a loop of twine ( I used some with silver and gold threaded in it)
And last night we decorated the tree with them. I added some glittery white garland, some glittery ribbon and red balls for some color.
The kids had so much fun making these ornaments. I did as well.
We are building memories here, in our new home by the sea.
Kicking off the holidays on the coast involves boat parades
Seaside games, such as finding pirate treasure in the sand
and loads of yummy, fresh seafood such as raw oysters, shrimp and flounder.
Tonight we will be making ornaments for our tree. Seashells, starfish, and red coral garland will deck our halls, and many of the items will be things we found on the beach. I will post some pictures and how to’s tonight.
We may not have a white Christmas, but a coastal Christmas has its charm for sure.
I am a bit clumsy. A bit i say, but Bill would throw his head back and laugh at that.
I tend to do lots of goofy things. Like the time I bent down to pick up something I dropped while doing a blood draw on a patient, and on the way down hit my head on the side of the chair. When I lifted my head back up, blood was running down my face from a laceration to my forehead. The patient almost passed out.
Or the time I fell out of the deep freezer at the marine park I worked at, and landed in a crate full of frozen herring, twisting my ankle all to hell.
This time, a car was involved. A parked car.
I lifted the hatch on the van, grabbed the groceries out of the back, and pulled the hatch down hard…..right on my face. i am still trying to figure out how I managed it.
It made me see stars and I staggered in the house with blood running down my face, and dripping off of my nose….the workers building homes on either side of us stood staring, tejano music blaring in the background.
The gash on my nose was pretty icky and wide open. The one on my forehead was mostly just split open. I called Bill at work and, get this, he said he would come home at lunch and look at it. It was 9am at the time. True love.
After checking out the wounds, he decided not to stitch them. The nose one was bad, but stitching that area would be difficult and end up with more scarring.
I also ended up with a mild concussion.
I am not going out in public, because people keep asking what happened and I have to explain how I accidentally slammed my face in the trunk.
This is not because he is mean or evil. It is because he is cheap and practical.
I don’t say that to be ugly. I love my husband, and even he admits those particular characteristics.
So, over the years I have learned that if I really want something, I simply do not ask, unless it is a major purchase like a 34 foot RV or a boat. . If I ask, well then, he says “No” and I can’t justify my purchase later on.
Bill aims to please, and I am really quite spoiled. He has to be the most laid back person on the planet. He would have to be to put up with me and some of the things I bring home. Take for instance this little gem that I brought home yesterday:
Yup, that is an eensy weensy little box turtle. It is about 2-3 weeks old and I had to have it for the boys. Our local pet shop carries the most amazing exotic animals, and this little guy and his 4 siblings were there waiting for a family for Christmas.
So, we bought it and all the supplies to properly care for it, and then we snuck it in the house while Bill was at the marina working on the boat.
When he got home, we showed him the turtle.
I know many a husband that would lecture, yell, complain and gripe about it….maybe even demand that it be returned.
Bill lifted his glasses and peered down at it. He then came back in the den and asked the kids what its name was.
(Doncha just love him….I know I do.)
Which brings me to the subject of this post…..the kids would like name suggestions.
So please, lurkers and regular commenters alike, lets name Nameless. Get your kiddos involved.
If the last two weeks could be summed up in one word, I think I would have to choose “magnificent”. Other words that come to mind….majestic, family, together, complete, whole, gorgeous, blessed, friends, marvelous, memories, and love.
