amanda jane

2012-02-02T19:01:00.000-08:00

avery and rose ann are in the seedsavers catalogue! neat!

neat

2011-04-01T17:49:00.000-07:00

the date is getting closer....i am now officially one month away from meeting this coiled up little "giant" growing in my belly. there isn't a moment in my day that goes by without me asking myself: "how will this go with another person around...?"

i'm savoring every moment of quality time with avery. last night i put him to sleep because matt was at the shop working late. matt puts him to bed almost every night and sings his songs and i get to lay there in bed, envisioning nursing my other baby to sleep. to the gentle singing of their father singing in the next room.

but last night i got to experience the magic that is watching him drifting slowly off to sleep. i got to sing. i love singing. i don't do it enough. i closed my eyes and sang with all my heart. i sang the 4 goodnight songs with all the love i had. silent night, jingle bells, spoon full of sugar, and twinkle twinkle little star. weird choices. i know. you'll have to ask matt about that. these have been the four songs for about 10 months now.

but as i sang twinkle twinkle i just had the urge to kiss him all over his head, his face, his neck. i kissed in between each word and phrase. and i thought to myself, "someday he won't let me do this, perhaps someday very soon...." and just when i felt the tears welling up in my eyes and i reached the last "how i wonder what you are" he whispered softly,

"well, that was a neat way to do it mama."

i think i will be putting him to bed for the rest of the month.

february

2011-03-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

nothing to report. other than snow, snow, and more snow. wish we were back in mexico!

january part 2

2011-03-10T13:20:00.000-08:00

oh mexico!

january

2011-03-10T13:16:00.001-08:00

december

2011-03-10T13:11:00.001-08:00

december was magical....decorating the tree, christmas morning, cookies for santa, lefsa.... it doesn't get any better than this!

grasping or remembering?

2011-01-29T22:56:00.000-08:00

i find myself grasping. wanting to hold on to this life of just the three of us a little bit longer. i keep thinking, we are just now figuring out how to manage parenting one child, now there will be 2?!?!?!
three months is not long my friends.

i want desperately to remember each and every detail of what we have learned from eachother thus far. and there has been a lot learned. he is my teacher. but i am not good about posting photos, events, thoughts of our day to day life. i wish i could be soulemama. sigh. who doesn't? but alas. i am not.

as his student, i guess i have just been trying to live it. be in the moment. savoring the tastes, smells, sensations of this life. this beautiful, full life we have created for ourselves. but do you know what? sometimes it's almost harder to tolerate the insane exctasy of loving.

we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love. William Blake, Songs of Innocence

sometimes i feel like that. like my job is to learn how to bear the beams love. how could love possibly be hard to bear? because i have never really known love before. i am learning. learning to bear love. and love does not need to grasp. so, here i go. entering a world where all i have is all i need. and upon reflection, it's a lot.

i feel like i gain so much from getting a little window into other peoples' exsistences, and sort of selfish that i have not kept up my end of the bargain. so, while i still have some time on my hands i want to catch you all up to speed on the past year of our life. a month at a time. it will help me both remember and let go..

November

2011-01-29T22:36:00.000-08:00

the biggest news: first visit from midwife Rachel. the baby was too busy flipping to let us hear the actual heart beat.

October

2011-01-29T22:28:00.000-08:00

pumpkins of course. we had 11 pie pumpkins on the boulevard and 3 BIG jack-o-lanterns. we carved one. avery couldn't bear to "cut his apart" so he drew a face on his. and he moved into his big boy bed. courtesy of his old man.

p.s. the wrist band are not a fashion statement, they are anti-nausea bands courtesy of morning sickness.

September

2011-01-29T22:22:00.000-08:00

one word defines september in minnesota: tomatoes!
a pretty good crop this year as you can see. and our first trip to seed savers exchange for the annual tomato-tasting. exciting.

August

2011-01-29T22:09:00.000-08:00

august was full, full indeed. conceiving a babe. holding the full moon at blue mound state park. smoking a peace pipe with paige (sorry baby). we prayed to mother earth: "please take pity on us, help me, help me"

sunflowers higher than our heads. watermelon. pumpkin patches. cicadas. holding on to summer....

July

2011-01-29T22:03:00.000-08:00

july made us smile! july was spent at the pool. and at the farm, growing flowers and doing weddings. oh, and eating amazing home-grown food.

June

2011-01-29T21:59:00.000-08:00

more of my favorite things:
duluth
lake superior
drift wood
naked gardening

May

2011-01-29T21:54:00.000-08:00

May brings my favorite things:
peonies
asparagus
naked outdoor eating
thunderstorms

April

2011-01-29T21:48:00.001-08:00

the smell of lily of the valley filled every room of the house. baby kate was born! avery turned 3 and the bleeding hearts danced in the breeze.

nyc in 72 hours

2010-12-15T19:31:00.000-08:00

there is nothing i can say about nyc that would even begin to express the vibrancy of the city. so here is a quick 72 hour rundown. links and all.

arrive at jfk airport at 8:00 pm Thursday evening. take a taxi into manhattan. get dropped off in the west village at the jane. our hotel for the next 3 nights. it is nestled right along the Hudson river. survivors of the Titanic stayed here. it is designed to be like a ship, each room it's own little cabin.

weary from traveling, we decide to order room service. my favorite is matt's response when i suggest it....."so you just call, and then you order.....and then they bring it to your room?" uh, yeah, that's room service. but not just any room service, cafe gitane room service. unreal. maybe my best meal ever. then we slipped into bed for the night. only the club downstairs was thumping till dawn. hmmmmm may need to rethink our room choice.

friday morning begins with a coffee and croissants at a little no name cafe. fueled up, we are ready for my pilgrimage to perry street past carrie bradshaw's apt. no, i did not make a video like this crazy woman (some fans are so nuts). but hell yeah i took a picture. 20 blocks later, we walk through greenwich village, through washington square, past at least a dozen starbucks, then into soho for some window shopping. p.s. we saw a movie being filmed, the madeoff son killed himself that day and another murder happened in a soho loft. all in a day in soho. ate malaysian. had another coffee. walked our tired butts back to the west village to get ready for our evening out on the town.

after a quick "freshen up" we walk another several blocks to the metro stop. one seriously insane rush hour ride in the subway train and we are transported to the upper west side. we enter an alternative universe called lincoln center to see the nyc ballet and george ballanchine's rendition of the nutcracker. incredible. once in a lifetime. tired but floating we make our way back to the jane. did we mention the club right below us? by midnight when we arrived back at the jane, the club was just getting started. a soak in a luxuriously deep marble tub makes me forget about the noise. at least while the water is running. must change rooms.

saturday morning is 50 and sunny! a walk on the amazing highline. a fully relandscaped and redesigned use of an old elevated railway line. the highline leads right into the meatpacking district and chelsea, which of course is the perfect place to brunch. we seek out the park and are NOT disappointed. wow. but $6 for an orange juice, that's reasonable. then i ordered the mimosa for $10. after that, back to the highline for a free outdoor christmas concert by the nyc gay men's chorus. we sang our hearts out! gives new meaning to "don we now our gay apparel."

fast forward 1 hour. still walking, we stubble across billy's bakery and have the most amazing cupcakes. the buttercream frosting must have been at least and inch and a half tall. another subway ride finds us in midtown and in a completely different world. we came to see the rockefeller center and the tree. but what were we thinking?! 5th avenue around christmas is madness. we came, we saw, we got the hell out of there. insanity. so we take refuge in central park. it is dusk and we grab a pretzel to share, glad also to also share a disdain for crowds. the park is beautiful at dusk. matt takes the longest pee ever behind an old stone wall in central park (hilarious video footage, ask me i'll show you sometime). we see a woman get proposed to in front of the famous fountain. we walk past the pond, the boat house, and through the ramble. we walk from the east side to the west side and find ourselves once again back at the jane ready to collapse after 50 plus blocks of walking. p.s. we had remembered to switch rooms earlier that day. but no joke, the room was 90 degrees. we had to the turn the air conditioner on! at least that drowned out the noise of the hudson parkway below.

sunday morning brings the rain. the blizzard in mn gave way to heavy rains in manhattan. we dash to the drugstore (with all our belongings in our backpacks) to pick up an umbrella. then grab bagels to go. we each buy 2, saving the second for later in the day. later came 5 minutes after we finished the first one. those are some damn good bagels. eating bagels on a subway heading uptown makes you feel very new york. unfortunately i don't think we look very new york at all. we plan to spend the day at the museum of modern art and the guggenheim. moma is amazing. several hours still wasn't enough to really take it all in. i know it's cliche by i LOVE monet. sitting in front of the waterlillies brought tears to my eyes. while i dried my eyes, miraculously the rains stopped. again, with backpacks strapped, we walked 30 blocks through central park to the upper east side and into the guggenheim. another amazing exhibit. still, i sometimes find myself thinking......"i don't get it." call me simple, but pastel landscapes really do it for me. speaking of landscapes, it is dark when we emerge from the amazing wright spiral and so we begin again to walk.

by this time, my swollen belly and streched pelvis have begun to shout: dare i say it? "stop all this f$%#ing walking and hail a cab already" and so we do. we hail a $50 cab back to jfk. only to find our flight has been delayed. damn, if only we'd had him drop us at the brooklyn bridge then we would have seen it all.....

but i guess there is only so much you can do in 72 hours.

saved

2010-11-24T13:03:00.000-08:00

the pumpkin pie is baking and i forget for a moment about reality. it smells good, pure, wholesome. the pumpkin we grew together this summer out on the boulevard. the pumpkins that made people stop, look. we took such delight in watching them out our picture-perfect window. we giggled as they stood to contemplate the orange orbs. had they never seen a pumpkin before? then usually their dog took a big crap or dug up some of my plants. damn dogs. anyway, where was i? oh yes, the pie.

it smells amazing. what if you knew you would not live to eat another pumpkin pie from scratch? i know that her time isn't long. she has the breathing of a fish out of water as her lungs fill with fluid. she won't last through the night. thanksgiving without your mother. how will that feel? i guess a lot like it feels now.

this will be the 4th to die in one week. sometimes i can't stand it. sometimes i curse cancer and go out to the prairie and scream. sometimes it's just too much. the 84 year old saving her tears in a film canister. her husband of 63 years. gone. the tears of a 7 year old hit the quilt on her parents (scratch that, father's) bed. her tiny tears make the sound of a thousand fire hydrants exploding.

i wonder if i need to be saved. where will i go when i die? last week i listened to the story of his salvation. "she saved me" he said. "she showed me how to love Jesus." his wife, less than 90 pounds lay beside him in the double bed they have shared for 57 years. the morning sun comes through the lace curtains. the wallpaper peeling. the smell of the dog. damn dog. it tries to lick my hands. i wish i could push it away, but i am trying to be polite. he sobs over her withering body. they kiss and cry in eachothers arms. i feel like i should look away. but i am hoping they can save me.

but they can't. it's up to me. it's always only been up to me. i guess i still don't know what the hell i'm doing. each day i am getting a little closer to figuring it out. i just hope i die with poetry in my head and love in my heart. and perhaps some good pie in my belly......

2010-10-25T08:05:00.000-07:00

many loves....

2010-08-17T19:44:00.000-07:00

it's hard to sum up the flavor of this summer...

it's been a random series of events strung together

only by wine...

and the endless blue sky.

it's impossible to tell you everything. some are secrets. some are not.
bits and pieces of me scattered across the field. like haybales. my many loves.

then the rains came and i gave thanks

2010-06-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

i am grateful for the heavy rain, the thick sultry air, the strawberries, the dill.
i am happy to have friends that fit like an old pair of danskos. who have walked miles with me and never grow weary of it.
i am loving peonies in every room of the house, and our new backporch.
i give thanks for my beautiful son and his sweet, sweet kisses. and my beautiful husband and his sweet, sweet embraces.
i am grateful to have taken communion with an old catholic czech, and held the hand of an aged iowa farm boy.
i love open windows and birds building nests and church bells blowing in through the curtains.
i am happiest when napping with my baby in the crook of my arm in the middle of the long afternoon.
i give thanks for laughter and sunburns.
and of course the rains that follow....

scant time

2010-04-23T13:04:00.000-07:00

Psychically, it is good to make a halfway place, a way station, a considered place in which to rest and mend after one escapes a famine. It is not too much to take one year, two years, to assess one's wounds, seek guidance, apply the medicines, consider the future. A year or two is scant time.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves.

past titles

2010-04-07T14:18:00.000-07:00

it's funny that each time i start to type in a new title, all the old blog titles starting with that letter pop up in the box. it's like a little walk down memory lane of all my old feelings, triumphs, frustrations. i'm still amazed at technology. but i'm still not sold.

i doubt anyone is still even reading this. this old blog. i'm obsolete. at least in cyber space.

i can't figure out how to stay in touch with people anymore. no, i'm not on facebook. i don't check my email very often. i blog even less. hell, sometimes matt has to check my voice mail messages because i can go for days without checking. i know this is terribly annoying. i understand, really i do. i am sorry. but the truth is, i'm not going to change. i'm like my dad. he doesn't know how to save documents, so he just prints them. he has 2 rooms FULL of paper floor to ceiling.

that's me. 200 unread emails. 5 new voicemails. the friend requests sent me into panic. it's just not for me. i'm sorry. if you want to reach me, stop by. i'm home. out back in the garden.

buried treasure

2010-03-04T12:26:00.001-08:00

i sat down in the early sun to make my list of vegetables i want to plant for the coming season. i could easily jot down 15-20 different vegetables, herbs and flowers but as always, referred to my grandmother's old copy of "growing your own vegetables" book to jog my memory for less-common varieties. i have referred to it many times in the past, but this time i found a treasure buried within the final pages. it was an old rushmore state bank statement. it was creased and yellowed. on the back in my grandmother miriam's handwriting, i unearthed the sweetest little treatsure of a note written at the top, along with notes on how to amend her soil, and names like "kentucy wonder" beans and "mortgage lifter" tomatoes....

spring is nature's apology for winter......

were these her own words, or some old wives tale she had heard along the way?

in her perfect cursive, i saw into her inner world. i could feel her sadness. and i realized it isn't just my pain i am carrying. and i also began to fully feel just how much i am living her life, her mother's life, and her mother's life. one so drawn to creating a home, a way of life, but also one so consumed by the burdens of this work. i can picture her on some long march sunday feeling just like me. a mixture of hope and dissolution. a desire to plan for the coming season and to "dream" but also so tethered to the ground. what is this, this feeling that is passed down exactly? and how?

i couldn't shake the sense she was with me all day. i ached to talk to her. i ached to know how she survived. i felt her there, even as i walked along prairie creek, the sun so close i could almost touch it. the snow hanging in lovely rounded mounds over the creek below, looking like the curves of a pregnant body. i wondered how long before the sun would touch me. how long before i would become alive again. in the silence of the valley, i heard the running water and thought "ah, spring!"

and i did feel as though nature was apologizing to me for all it had done, and all of me that it had buried this winter.

flowers in february

2010-01-30T21:31:00.000-08:00

matt and I don't celebrate valentines day. it's sort of absurd to think minnesotans should even get flowers in february. but IF i lived in san fransisco, and IF we weren't flat broke, and IF we even celebrated valentine's day, I would want one of each of these bouquets!

wow!

my birthday cake

2010-01-11T18:33:00.001-08:00

thanks anne!

i so solemnly swear

2010-01-11T18:03:00.000-08:00

each year i vow to be a better human being. i make resolutions to be more patient, loving, compassionate, kind. but this year i swear it will be different. "a whole new you at 32" i declared yesterday in the car with 3 girlfriends and god as my witnesses. but then i corrected myself. it's not me that needs to change--it's my PERCEPTION of things, my life, myself.

"a whole new view at 32." i really mean it. i am BUSTING through old patterns, old beliefs, old assumptions. i am BUSTING through my old views big time.

this is my year to:

pray
meditate
slow down
be patient
practice yoga
breathe
feel
bow
smile
let go
exercise
create
relax
be aware
sing
serve
envision
accept
play
forgive
listen
learn
expand
include
dream
celebrate
love
share
walk softly
cry
radiate
simplify
surrender
trust
forgive some more
receive
cultivate contentment
lighten up

evolve.......

Christmas with the Østvolds!

2009-12-21T13:22:00.000-08:00

for those of you who don't know my husband, he is very proud of his norwegian heritage. i guess even that is a bit of an understatement for a lutheran farm boy from minnesota who is named after his great-grandfather gisle ferguson. so, this year, we are going to put the Øst back in vold and have ourselves a good 'ol fashioned Norwegian christmas eve.

thanks to our friends anne, leighton and lilly we will be spending the evening in good company with lots of norwegian food and drink. the house has been thoroughly cleaned, the tree has been trimmed, and the cookies have been made. i will be making my first pork roast for the occasion....wish me luck. seven kinds of cookies are eaten, and seven songs are sung as you circle and dance around the christmas tree. i am looking forward to inserting a little german too, as i hide the christmas pickle on the tree after everyone has gone to sleep...

to dream of a new season, and a new reason to give thanks.

peace!

a spell

2009-12-14T12:42:00.000-08:00

every mama knows that the infants we nurture, and feed, and carry, and caress, and hold, and feed again at our breast, will ultimately form those same bonds with their papas. it is a more gradual kind of loving that comes not from necessity, but arises out of respect. the intimacy between mothers and babes begins to soften, to lose its tight hold that binds mother to child. survival gives way to sophistication. it comes from within both father and child, as they learn to know each other in the same and different ways a mother knows. it can happen so subtley, perhaps over legos. immersed in their own separate building projects when he says so sweetly, "dada, you're my best friend."

"you're my best friend too" i hear him reply. and he whispers it again, under his breath this time, as if trying to believe that this is for real.

a student of death

2009-12-02T20:19:00.000-08:00

Is life the incurable disease?

The infant is born howling
and we laugh,
the dead man smiles
and we cry,
resisting the passage,
always resisting the passage,
that turns life
into eternity.

Blake sang alleluluias
on his deathbed.
My own grandmother,
hardly a poet at all,
smiled
as we'd never seen her smile
Before.
Perhaps the dress of flesh
is no more than a familiar garment
that grows looser as one diets
on death
and perhaps we discard it
or give it to the poor in spirit,
who have not learned yet
what blessing it is
to go naked.

Erica Jong

missing my long-haired baby boy...

2009-11-17T12:38:00.000-08:00

exactly one year ago today...

but it's good to know that some things never change.
like our mornings together in the sun drinking "papaccinos."

oh, i'm sorry

2009-11-12T12:16:00.000-08:00

i haven't told many people about this because one of the first people i told stated sadly, "oh, i'm sorry," while others simply pretended they didn't hear what i said or ignored the comment all together. but i'm leaving on a 3 day retreat tomorrow. "Living with Dying."

don't be sorry. rejoice. for i get to spend 3 full days immersed in quiet mediation, spiritual renewal and awakening. and most of all-- silence.

you better believe i am brining my down comforter to the Monastery though.

no guts, no glory

2009-11-02T11:42:00.000-08:00

as i watched avery scoop the gooey insides of our pumpkin onto the newspaper on the kitchen floor, i got to thinking about -- well -- guts.

and i got to thinking about motherhood. such a profound and intense experience, that you can only really believe it once you've lived it. before avery, i used to think that mothers were "soft." that mothers were giving up their lives for their children's lives. that women had to sacrifice themselves for their family. that women who decided to "procreate" had no guts.

then, i had a baby.

the saying goes, "no guts, no glory" and that pretty much sums up motherhood. it's dirty, and painful, and gooey, and hard, and scary. it's scary to love another individual that much. but it's also joyful, and life-enriching, and delicious, and silly, and simple. but mostly it's so, so very--gutsy.

lately i've been surrounded by so many "gutsy" women that i find it hard to believe that mothers still do not run the world.

how else can you explain the trust that something the size of a pumpkin has to come out of you...Guts!

how else can you explain the love of a mother praying in the waiting room for her son to come out of surgery...Guts!

how else can you explain a mother waiting anxiously to adopt her daughter from a war-torn country...Guts!

how else can you explain the patience of a mother as her blind daughter meticulously feels every pumpkin in the heap to find the perfect one...Guts!

i know these women.
and trust me they have more guts than a 300 pound pumpkin!!!

abundance

2009-09-15T18:28:00.000-07:00

sometimes it's hard to remember that this is the season of abundance. the opposite of what the native americans call the "hungry months" of winter. it's hard to remember to give thanks for the harvest when you notice how shadows have grown long and the light is changing.

for me, it's hard to reconcile autumn. a time of abundance, but also emptiness. my cupboards and my belly may be full but autumn is always a painful reminder that it is my soul that needs to be fed.

four to six weeks

2009-08-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

when the garden calls you must stop what you're doing and make pickles. the cukes were ready on friday. which meant all weekend plans had to be abandoned. i set to work saturday morning with the dew and the goldfinches. my mind was free to wander onto prettier things. i picked and picked. my head getting more and more clear with each snap of the stem. i haven't posted much lately about things i'm doing like gardening and growing up a fine young boy. i guess i'm just craving the realness of it. the dirty work of gardening and parenting and helping people die. i could tell you that i am so glad to drive that gravel road each day. it shakes my thoughts loose. i could tell you my baby nursed for the last time a month ago and i burned all my nursing bras. i could tell you that i am trying to cut back on wine and coffee, or that my biggest project this summer are the roads avery and i built in the "back 40". i could tell you that the people i build relationships with keep dying, or that i am still searching for the sacred. i could say a whole lot. but as paige has said more times than i can count, "i don't know where to begin. things are changing, i'm changing." and i am. and you are, we all are. we're all changing...

and the messages from the garden come as they always do. as a reminder to me to pay attention. as i neared the end of the row, i found a "mother cuke" with a small "baby cuke" attached to it at the stem. i was pleased that avery was occupied by the raspberries but i went to show him anyway. he instantly broke the baby away from the mama. and there it is. my babe and i are entering a new phase. and who knows where we'll be in four to six weeks when those pickles are ready.

what were you doing?

2009-06-24T11:03:00.000-07:00

i guess it's anne's fault i'm reminiscing today. what was i doing 1 year ago today? i have no idea. nothing memorable. not like getting ready for my wedding or anything. but i DO remember what i was doing 3 years ago today....ahhhhhhhh thailand.

remember anne? we swam out to the beach Leonardo DiCaprio made famous. it's a scary movie we just happened to watch during a thunderstorm on phi phi island and realized we had stayed at the same hotel in the movie. and it was just as scary as it looked. rats climbing in the rafters, standing toilets. disgusting beds. ahhhhhhhhh thailand.

i can't believe this day actually existed for me. look at the water. and that tan (i'm the one NEXT to anne).

what were you doing June 25th?

hostile takeover of my backyard

2009-05-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

since i have already expounded on the evils of corporate seed mongers like Monsanto i'll spare you this time.

but, if i want to enjoy morels out of my backyard, or vegetables of any kind OTHER than genetically modified ones i may not have much longer....there is a bill about to be passed that may change this forever. if you love growing vegetables, farmer's markets, or local, organic food....

Please! Please! Please sign this petition! and tell congress to

LEAVE MY FOOD ALONE!

morels and macro mode

2009-05-08T21:18:00.000-07:00

in my last post i eluded to the fact that my camera was on the "fritz." actually, it doesn't focus. unless of course it's in macro mode. i have to get very, very close to whatever i want to shoot. i thought this was a perfect metaphor for what i most need in my life at present. to slow down. to notice things. small things. details.

having a small person so low to the ground is great for finding such details. a robin's egg fallen from her nest (i tried to put it back, but it was cracked and i think she kicked it out). the inside of an orchid flower. foresythia branches in a vase. it helps me and my big-picture brain. it seems i'm somewhat freakish in my ability to create an entire lifetime in a few short minutes. all the while avery is tirelessly trying to focus my attention. on the details.

just the other day, during a break from planting at the farm we were out having lunch in roseann's woods. while the adults talked about the politics of food, and the global crisis of industrial farming, moving to sustainability (blah, blah, blah) avery walks over to me innocently with a a morel mushroom in his hand.

"what i found mama" he exclaimed. we all cheered for joy! a morel! right under our feet. he led me right to where he found it, by a log with at least a dozen other morels, just waiting for some one who is awake to see them.

we can't see the morels for the trees people.

and i have so much to learn my friends.

like a cloud

2009-04-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

i am so excited about our new sofa. avery loves it too! he is two now and one sofa was not enough for this guy. seriously trucks and trailers and tractors are outnumbering the furniture. so, now we have two. there is a hilarious story about this sofa. i'll tell you some other time. but i'm too busy rearranging my living room. i love adding new things with great stories to our home. i think everything should have a story. like the bra plant. (that's another post entirely). anyway, i'm sure many of you can appreciate my excitement over this sofa. and if not, well then you obviously don't get me. it is totally cool and totally white vinyl.

like a little white cloud.
sorry about the poor photo, it's from my phone. my camera is on the fritz. another post on that too!

spring?!

2009-03-31T10:49:00.001-07:00

it's hard not to be a bit pissy about this weather. but then i realize, that as long as his fingers aren't going to stick to the swing set (he hasn't attempted to lick anything yet!) why not go to the park? so what if it's april and snowing?!?!?!

i cannot tell you how happy i am to be able to walk 2 blocks to the park. i had surgery on my leg 2 weeks ago. nothing major, just a little thing called an "osteochondroma" which had to be cut off my femur! i have a scar, which i'm not pumped about, but hey at least it's not cancer! (i got the pathology report back this week).

so, being cancer-free (note: i did not actually HAVE cancer, I just THOUGHT for sure i DID) has really made me think that life is too short not to walk to the park. everyday. even if you get those stupid little pebble rock things up in your shoes. and even if you just want to stay home and watch ellen and drink coffee. and even if it's snowing.

bIG tRucKs!

2009-03-03T11:56:00.000-08:00

This post says it all! Thanks anne!

necessary winter

2009-02-05T11:30:00.000-08:00

it goes without saying that death is a necessary part of life. of living. winter is such a metaphorical death. everything must die to be born anew each spring. but we humans seem to endure the winter. for the most part.

some don't. i have lost half of my hospice patients in january alone. i hope i die in january. i was born in january. why would i not die then too? i think about death a lot. probably more than the average person. goes with the territory i guess. i am fascinated by it. by the patterns of how and when people die. by the patterns of how people around me are living too. how we are affected by the seasons and by death itself. parts of people must die, even relationships must die to make room. . . .

recently a friend told me that someone said to her, "you're trying to make it summer, but it's not." she was trying to tell my friend it is not the season for new love. it's not the season for much of anything. that is if productivity, outward growth, or "progress" are your only goals. but this winter i've learned from the people that i have helped die that life is so much more than all those external, materialistic, capitalistic, individualistic lies.

and for the first time, i'm happy for this winter. the necessary winter.

for us gardeners the winter can be a long, lonely process. but for those who seek solace in the winter, there is hope. here are some pictures of my dad's christmas tree. his "winter garden."

what do you grow in your winter garden?

.

December 22, 2007

2008-12-22T06:29:00.000-08:00

one year ago today.

little reminders are everywhere.
if we just wait for them.

i slipped my hand into the pocket of the wool pants i haven't worn since the day we buried her.
i felt her immediately.

inside a silk hankie, like the ones she used
to stick up her shirt sleeve.
little bouquets of flowers
poking out at her wrist.
we each took one that day.
as we laid her to rest.

everything is different without her on earth but everything is just as lovely as she left it.
little lovelies everywhere.
and inside my pocket.

another blog....

2008-11-15T14:04:00.000-08:00

in grand tia fashion we have started another blog!

this one is our "work" blog. i just hope we can keep them as fresh and fun to read as ALL of tia's!

right before he ate it

2008-10-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

everything goes in his mouth these days....nothing is off limits (yes, even dog poop). this phone photo was taken right before he ate (tried to eat) this poor grasshopper. don't know which is worse, poop or insects?

from where i stand

2008-09-29T15:43:00.001-07:00

yeah i know. i've been a lame blogger. but it's harvest time people. AND we're on the verge of a potential economic collapse. if the great depression does hit, at least we'll have food to eat. thanks to avery's help in the garden. ha! he generally runs around snatching stuff out of my bucket and eating it faster than i can pick it. i love that some of his first words were "broccoli" "raspberry" and "apple." i can't believe the summer is over....we're clearing fields and my mind wanders to thoughts of snow and cocoa and sledding and watching avery become a real little person...

here's my little helper standin' on a pitch fork. i took it on my phone, but it could never capture the bliss of the moment he discovered this amazing "ride" and what a ride it's been...

you can't eat money

2008-07-23T20:22:00.000-07:00

my garden defies capitalism. i didn't purchase a single vegetable this year. i was gifted several tomato plants, some onion starts, broccoli seedlings, and a packet of basil seeds. everything else in my little circle garden is volunteer. a friend of mine had never heard this term, which i thought was common knowledge since i've been around farming my whole life. what it means is that the plant was NOT "intentionally planted." a bird may have come along after eating a seed from another garden and pooped it out in just the right spot and it took hold in my backyard soil. or more likely it was my heaping compost pile, rich in vegetables in various states of decay, was spread over the garden in the spring and those determined little seeds decided to sprout. simply, this is nature doing its job.

matt likes to point out my communist tendencies. my garden is no exception.

there are several varieties of tomatoes, i won't know exactly which kind until they ripen. the hopi red dye amaranth, and dill are prolific volunteers this year. there is summer squash and peppers and even petunias (i have no idea where they would have come from). it's lush and vibrant and colorful. and all purely accidental.

i love the wildness that exists here among the carefully manicured lawns all around me. i watch my neighbor and his never ending battle with creeping charlie (that is another post all together my friends). and i think 'what if we spent more time trying to cultivate things to grow, rather than trying to kill them?'

i ponder these things as i read "animal, vegetable, miracle" by barbara kingsolver. a book that is changing my life. i'm in the part where they are talking about seeds. and genetically modified seeds. and how Monsanto spends millions of dollars each year to prosecute seed savers (those farmers that intentionally or unitentionally try to save seeds from this crop to plant next year). those communistis! don't they know this is america, home of the capitalist regime? one farmer was sued for everything he had because they found "their" seeds in his field. as if you could patent a seed!

but they can and they do. and since monsanto has taken over the majority of all seeds sales in the US, the variety of vegetables available has dropped from 18,000 varieties to 600 in 20 years. there are actually extinct and endangered seeds.

but who cares about heirloom tomatoes when all you need to make most of what america eats is some corn? i for one do. i don't want a dried out, tasteless tomato that has traveled over 1,500 miles in a gas-gusling semi when i have savored the warm succulent purple-hued flesh of a brandywine fresh off the vine. no. i care about seeds. and luckily so do people like the folks at seedsavers and CSA farms.

now, i'm not perfect. i would like to say i only eat locally grown food. but the reality is, i don't. the past 4 years since working at Valley Creek Farm i've learned more than i ever knew about food systems and the social, economic and political nature of our food chain. and it's enough to know that people, we need to wake up!

how long it will take before we realize that we can't eat money?

2008-07-07T08:58:00.001-07:00

we've been super busy preparing for our first furniture show and sale this weekend.

we are totally flying by the seat of our pants. which is pretty much par for the course with us and the business. i can't believe just 5 years ago we jumped into this endeavor called eastvold custom woodworks. just me and matt in a basement shop in northeast minneapolis. i still remember the smell of that old shop. the old cargo elevator. staining and varnishing in the weedy side lot as local drunks bicycled by. and of course the occasional cabinet getting rained on! and sometimes i'd stop at the gas station and pick up junk food and bring it back to the shop and we'd tailgate on the back of matt's dad's old red pickup out front in the summer heat.

...ahh...the good ol days.

what we lacked in knowledge about running a business, design, and even building we made up for in sheer hard work. matt's been non-stop since 2003. and most of the time i was right there with him. i'll never forget being 8 months pregnant and on the jobsite laying on my side screwing toekick on. the homeowners would be home from vaction and it had to be done. finally at midnight i told him i had to go home. it was NOT the first all-nighter he had planned. nor was it the last.

we still work hard, but things have changed. now there is a shiny new red pick up. a cargo van instead of the cargo elevator. a brand new shop. 8 employees. employee health insurance plans. and of course matt is still non-stop.

but we haven't done it alone. no ma'am. none of this would be possible without our wonderful community of family and friends. a huge thanks to those that have made this possible (tia and souliyahn for introducing us to dave brach, martha, scott and connie, and who could forget the early days with Layo and kevin that first summer. and of course our pals luke and mull always willing to pitch in and who are STILL willing to pitch in, in a pinch. and jake for his never ending web and postcard designs, paige for taking photos, spengler for his ideas and of course "our amazing crew" joram, ben, kai, matt h., kasey, anthony, doug and doug...and everyone else who has been with us along the way!)

so please, please come to the show. it will be lots of fun. mingling. wine. friends. and lots of stuff to see.

and at the end of it all, we'll come home and collapse on our beautiful bed. built with our own hard-working hands. together. and that makes it all worth it.

amazing. full. and beautiful.

2008-06-25T07:46:00.000-07:00

life is amazing. full. and beautiful. i've been so caught up in things. so caught up in things i'm forgetting about anything but what is right in front of me. how did that happen? i don't even ask that question anymore. i'm gardening. cooking. farming. drinking cosmos. arranging flowers. watching avery walk, water the flowers, kick a ball, pick strawberries. he picks them and pops them whole into his little mouth. i am getting lost in the moment. moment after moment, day after day after day...and soon it will be July.

this little spot we call home is heaven. lush with my labor. native plants mixed with vegetables, mixed with berries, mixed with heavy whipping cream. mint mixed into mojitos. sun mixed with sweat. i am happy. here. and now.

there is so much bounty in this season. i forget that just a few months ago nothing was green yet. or ripe yet. now, rhubarb and strawberry jam lines my counter. greens, spinach, lettuce, mizuna, arugula, green onions pack the fridge. peonies on every window sill. it's this mystery that makes life amazing. full. and beautiful.

here is a recipe for cilantro pesto...oh my god! you have got to make it. tonight.

2 cups packed cilantro leaves
3-4 garlic cloves
1/2 cup grated parmesan
handful of macadamia nuts (toasted)
olive oil
salt to taste
1/2 cup sour cream (added at the end)

Mix all in a food processor and blend. add the oil as you mix until a nice paste. Add the sour cream at the end. toss with pasta. Enjoy!

something like that

2008-06-03T07:43:00.001-07:00

yesterday my day went something like this:

woke up to smiling baby sitting next to me pointing at the window signing "please" which means, "please mom, get up, take me downstairs and outside so I can go see the birds." but it was raining so the day didn't start off in the usual way.

i hate rain.

so we're stuck inside. just the two of us. i start to make some coffee. avery pees his pants 3 times and that was just before breakfast. most of which ended up on the floor, not in his mouth. several touch and feel books later, he pees his pants AGAIN. the elimination communication seems to be working...only sort of. he pees first, then he grunts as if to tell us "hey check out this sweet puddle on the floor."

finally, it's nap time. also known as: scrub the mango, grapes and kiwi chunks off the floor, do the dishes, start a load of laundry, make the bed, pay some bills, check in with work, pick up books, write a letter, check on my grass seed, do another load of laundry, missed some of breakfast on the wall, scrub that too.....oh, he's awake.

stops raining, so there is only one thing to do, head to the farm. but it's muddy and buggy. but still i press on. have many flowers to plant. avery proceeds to spill a whole jug of water on himself (i have brought no extra clothes) and then sit on several of the new little flowers i have planted. he does well, really. he is patient as i work for an hour or two. but by the time i get my work done, his face is swollen from so many knat bites and he is very, very dirty. and crabby. i strip him down before i put him in the car. i'm exhausted, but HE is the one that gets to pass out on the way home.

another nap means i can actually get myself cleaned up. there is mud between my toes, and under my nails, and in my hair. i shower and THEN bathe. ahhh. that feels nice. then matt comes home and finds me in there. i can sense his judgment, "what do you DO all day anyway??? take baths and nap???" but he doesn't dare say it.

so i say, "how was your day?" but when he launches in on the stress of owning your own business, my eyes glaze over and wish i could tell him what i really meant to say was, "could you bring me a glass of wine, order some indian take out food, and when the baby wakes up take him for a walk, and come back on friday?"

or something like that.

sheparding a son

2008-05-08T08:40:00.000-07:00

i heard a sermon the other day about sheep. the pastor is baptist, but i like him. (note: sarcasm having married a man who attended a baptist college, along with my other favorite people). anyway, as i was saying, he was talking about sheep. sheep aren't "dumb like cows" he said, which can be pushed in any direction by a few dogs and maybe a cowboy or two. no, sheep are smart. they resist pushing. they need to be led.

insert shepard.

it is the shepard's job to lead the herd. the sheep learn to trust their shepard intimately. if he/she leads them up a mountain, they follow. through a rushing stream, they are right behind. they need this steady-handed direction. and it is only through gentle, loving guidance that the shepard has any luck with the sheep. any sense that they are being pushed and they run around in a frenzy. which made me think of my current toddler situation.

it's a battle of wills at times. to eat. to pee. to sleep. to poop. to stop. to go. to listen. . .

then i realized that the frenzy is my own creation. in my best efforts as a cowgirl, i just cannot seem to corral my little cow. but that's the problem. i need to see him as a sheep. and i his shepard. abandoning the idea of control and pushing may take me my son's entire lifetime. and i wonder will i be able to lead him through this life as his loyal shepard?

farm

2008-04-30T06:16:00.000-07:00

you know how some people are just "farm." at least that's what i've come to call them. lovingly of course. matt is one of them. they just have this way about them. they aren't pretentious, they pay attention to things, they are simple, kind folk who know and love the land. truth be told, i have always wanted to be more "farm." which is why i'm drawn to people like matt and roseann and olivia and gene who work on the organic farm where i've spent the last 3 summers.

i don't think you can ever really become "farm," although i've tried. i think you are born that way. and of course, the obvious factor of growing up on a farm. it is a way of life that only other farmers can know. i wish i could know.

yesterday i took the long gravel driveway down to his house. he was in bed, his family all around him. these were farm folk. plain and true. they knew his death would be soon. and as i watched this young man and his father, i began to feel the heat of emotion rise from deep within me. i tried to stop it, but as i looked at this old farmer, his glasses filthy and smudged with dried tears and dirt, i began to cry. this old farmer was losing his son and he wept and wept and wept. the tears that only a parent can shed for their child.

i looked out the window to gain some composure and noticed the fields had been turned over since i was there last. planting has begun. and this farmer was shedding the tears that would soon water and replenish the soil. the soil that had been the life blood of this family for over a hundred years.

these days are fleeting. this life such a mystery. i tried to remember this story when my own little farmer woke me today at 5:15. sometimes i get so crabby. sometimes i just wish he would sleep. but the sun is rising earlier and he knows it. he will be "farm." at least i hope. i'll raise him that way as much as i can. . . .

always trying to remember that this life is that long gravel road, leading us home.

oops i forgot to feed the baby

2008-04-22T18:55:00.000-07:00

hey anne (and jake) this post is for you.

my baby is 1. saturday was the first birthday. pretty monumentous. but during the course of the busy day, busy for the adults anyway, i forgot to feed the baby. oops. and so many times i felt like i should blog about the birthday, post pictures of the birthday, be "emotional" about the first birthday, but really, it's just another day.

sure i remembered to sit and reflect at 10:23 am, with matt in the bathroom (on the toilet in fact) where it all took place, but the rest of the day was just sort of a blurr. five generations worth of blurriness.

the edges of my days just all seem to run together now. but, we made it one full rotation around the sun together. each day blurring into night 365 times. 365 lullabies. 365 good morning kisses. 365 days of spinning through space.

together.

baby bliss

2008-04-17T18:28:00.001-07:00

i was recently witness to the most sacred event of all time.....

the birth of a new human being.

i am overcome with joy to know this family.

and, that little ave-dave has a new buddy!

lately

2008-04-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

i've been writing a lot. just not on my blog.

i write in my journal mostly. but i also write little notes to avery. trying to keep track of his life through the little moments i get to witness. i have never actually considered myself "a writer" but it is what i do.

i've been working on a lot of pieces about motherhood. about raising a boy. about working with dying patients. about farming. about how i'm trying to figure things out. i'm usually pretty secretive about my writing. but recently i have been asked to put myself out there. so i did.

you can check out my story for sexual assault awareness month in the Northfield News.i didn't think anyone read the paper anymore. isn't print dead? apparently not as i've had numerous people tell me that my story touched them in some way. and that is the beauty of sharing stories.

you can also read an article i was asked to write about g diapers (with a picture of Avery!) in the Northfield Co-op Newsletter
The Compost. i couldn't resist putting in a plug for diaper free since i believe in it so much. you can also see photos and a little paragraph about the flowers I arranged for a couple on the front page in "our local wedding." soon the flowers and vegetables will be up and i'll be busy harvesting and arranging. but as for now,

this is what i've been up to lately.

ugh: part 2, the flu

2008-03-31T14:21:00.000-07:00

yes, more snow.

yes, no closer to spring.

yes, on top of that we got the flu.

yes, all 3 of us.

yes, even avery.

yes, the puking.

yes, the "other thing " too.

yes, it was horrible.

yes, my mom, bless her heart came to help.

yes, she got it too.

yes, dad was here too...will he get it?

yes, most likely.

yes, it felt like the end.

yes, it must be, it has to be the end.

yes, the end of winter. the end of sickness.

yes, a little spring-cleaning for our bodies.

ugh!

ughhh

2008-03-17T07:56:00.000-07:00

i thought winter was finally gone! the snow does look beautiful falling all peacefully, blanketing the brown, dirty earth but cripes.....when will spring ever come?!?

anyway, this photo cheered me right up!

women rule

2008-03-10T14:18:00.001-07:00

i got to listen to a snippet of this woman today on mpr. i was driving. i was eating a turkey sandwich. i was running late. i had only 20 minutes to go home, nurse my babe, make the said sandwich and be back to work for the rest of the day. and i managed to do this all while talking with my sister AND listening to this program on mpr.

as i drove, and ate, and talked and listened all at once, i also managed to create an entire blog entry in my head about why women rule. i'll type that out at a later date. but for now, just thought you'd like to listen to this podcast and read the book, "why women should rule the world."

clearly we already do.

spring...

2008-02-28T07:33:00.000-08:00

sure signs of spring. birds at the feeder. waking to their morning songs. sun rising before we do. melting. dripping. little rivers cutting through the snow. these happen every year to signify the changing days.

but this year there is a new "sign" for spring. avery's first baby sign:

bird!

just today. in his high-chair, pointing, then putting his thumb and pointer finger together. chirp, chirp, chirp. that's right avery. bird!

what signs do you see that spring is on the horizon?

western medicine?

2008-02-25T11:38:00.000-08:00

would your doctor ever call you and tell you that another patient of theirs is very sick and needs a pot of chicken soup (with lots of garlic) brought to their door?

i didn't think so.

which is why i love the power of the feminine spirit. midwifery, in it's truest form, is this incredible gift that i'm just slowly beginning to unwrap, like a child with a present. it continues to surprise me. delight me.

and i am sincerely delighted to be making soup for an expectant couple who are too sick even to cook, knowing that feeding them not only nourishes their bodies, but also nourishes my community, my world and my own soul.

would your doctor ever tell you about things like that?

i didn't think so.

moon geeks

2008-02-23T19:12:00.000-08:00

so i sat down to watch the lunar eclipse the other night. i was excited and full of anticipation. i love the moon. i adore the moon.

i love how she glows,
how she creates my flows.
i love her face,
how she floats in space.

(you could say, based on that lame poem that i'm a bit of a moon geek). anyway, as i was saying, i sat down to watch the eclipse, prepared for something to HAPPEN.

but i waited. and i waited. and i waited. and nothing HAPPENED. i waited what felt like a really, really long time and all i could see was the bottom, left edge of the moon get a little fuzzy from the earth's shadow. i did not have time for this. this was about as exciting as watching paint dry. so i got up and did something else. i don't even remember what i did. all i knew was my baby was asleep and i did NOT have time to sit around and watch nothing HAPPEN.

then, i heard a bunch of people talking on MPR about the eclipse and how incredible it was....what were they talking about?!?! surely there must be others out there more geeky than me when it comes to la luna. well, alright. i denounce my geekism. and give props to those of you who did manage to watch the 3 hour progression and even more amazed at those who even sat outside and took pictures...here's to them, the true moon geeks.

boy oh boy

2008-02-20T07:56:00.001-08:00

i have a boy. my little baby is now the ripe old age of 10 months. and he is becoming, despite my dismay, very, well.....boyish!

he wears blue. he is loud. he bangs things.
he is independent. he is rowdy. he is fearless
(last night at swimming, he threw himself off the edge with no one there to catch him).
he likes men. mostly his papa. he has stopped playing with his doll, and is now onto trucks. oh, and he thinks he is really funny as he laughs at his own sneezes, burps and farts. (ok, maybe that comes more from his mama than from being a boy).

but, despite his blue-wearing, cup banging, boyish ways, i do love him. really i do.

hibernating...

2008-02-10T14:31:00.001-08:00

i have lost the will to blog. it's -20 degrees. avery has been sick for a week. i haven't been outside in days. i'm exhausted. all i want to do is hunker down, get cozy in my warm basement and curl up with a DVD of "Planet Earth" which we got for Christmas and haven't had the chance to watch yet. i highly recommend it!

it makes perfect sense to me. that all i want is to be near my family and stay underground. especially after watching mama polar bear and her cubs as they emerged from the hole in the snow after a long winter holed-up together nursing in the darkness. i'm not any different than her. i need to preserve my strength for the coming spring. the demands of raising up a cub are strenuous. so i'm hibernating for the rest of the winter. don't know when you'll hear from me again. for now it's time for stillness underneath the snow, nursing in the darkness, bodies buried below....

addicted to love

2008-01-25T08:59:00.000-08:00

i just had the most fantastic night. i actually went to a movie! I haven't seen a movie in the theater since we lived in st. paul one summer night and walked to the grandview. that was 5 years ago. and i believe i may have been drunk. yes, you may think that absurd. but i don't like movies. ok, i don't like MOST movies, or maybe they just disturb me too much. well this movie was disturbing, but in a good way. do you know what i mean? this movie shook me to the core. check out the link and watch the preview and you'll know what i mean.

birth has been on my mind so much lately. yesterday was matt's birthday and i thought of his mom, braving the cold and the long road from the farm into town where he came into he world. 32 years ago. i'm also thinking about avery's birth, and the beauty that it was. i'm thinking about rachel, the woman who was there to witness, to assist. and my sister, the first to arrive. i'm thinking about the ecstasy of birthing him. ahhhh avery.

and i'm thinking about my new friend anne from Norway who went with me to the movie last night. we drove up to the city and we had tea and talked like we'd known eachother for years. she's expecting her first baby in a few months. but is sad she won't give birth in Norway, where any kind of birth is paid for. where she would have received 45 weeks PAID maternity leave. fully paid, not just half-ass paid. "i am so curious at how your country treats women" she tells me. me too.

but none of that matters today. because i'm entering a brave new world. i'm going to stop noticing the injustices so much. there was so much to be outraged by in the film. the way women have been taught to fear birth. to fear their bodies. to fear their babies! but there was also so much to be excited about. so many beautiful births. and the commentary that a natural birth releases hormones that make a woman literally "addicted to loving her baby." but i'm not going to think about a world where that "love cocktail" gets disrupted. no, i'm just going to notice the courage, the joy, and the beauty (thanks paige) that IS POSSIBLE. so, it's a birth of my own i guess.

and then, as i began to imagine a world where ALL people were addicted to love and wonder how i could be a part of that.... something wonderful happened.....i was invited to attend my first birth! i am so honored. i am so in awe. the universe does listen. birth is where my new work lies. and it feels like the only place to start. birth. the ultimate beginning.

sweet memories....

9 + 10 = 19

2008-01-19T18:01:00.000-08:00

avery is 9 months old today. and i'm feeling the need to reflect. he has now been outside of me, growing independently (well sort of independently) of me for almost as long as he was completely wrapped up inside my being. for roughly 10 months he waited, knees curled to chin, to be unfurled into this life. his life. no longer my life, containing his. 9 months old plus 10 months in utero and today is the 19th. funny how that adds up.

there is this blog, you probably arleady know this, but it's called dooce. i know my blog will never be like her blog, but that is the beauty of blogs right?! well, one of the things i love about her blog is that she writes her daughter a letter every month. and for those of you mothers out there, you can just imagine the dedication it takes to do such a thing. anyway, i wrote avery a letter once, before he was born. when i had time to sit down and write. a real letter. but i haven't written one since. so, i'm going to take this opportunity to change that. it's ok that it's not my ninth letter to him (who am i kidding, i'm not dooce). but it is a start. so here goes. my first letter to my boy-avery david:

1.19.08

oh ave dave!

you are such a big boy. 9 months has passed in the blink of an eye.

things you love right now: crawling. pulling yourself up on everything. clapping and squealing while i dance around you. tofu! listening to music. (yesterday you even turned the radio on by yourself and began clapping!) nursing. playing peek-a-boo. reading books. "talking" to your stuffed animals. long hot baths (which you get from me). eating all kinds of food (which you get from your papa). your cousins, and your grandma and grandpa. watching the birdies at the bird feeder (i think that comes from your great-grandpa avery). playing rough house on the big bed. riding your new trike. playing with your buddies. going for walks in the arb in the backpack. being pulled in your new sled. i could go on and on. you seem to love just about everything. oh avery, if only i could learn how to love everything. how are you so happy? it is what i love most about you-your happiness. but it's not the only thing...

some other things i love right now: your smile. your giggle. your hair, all beautiful, blond and curly. your smell which is part sweaty boy, part sweetness. your fat little ankles and wrists. nursing you. your curiosity. your kisses (interesting since you now have two bottom teeth!) your socialness. your sensitive side. your soft skin. your little kissable neck. your blue eyes. the sounds you make when you wake up. the way you rub your eyes and stretch when you're tired. your new found voice, so many new sounds. most importantly when it sounds like "mama." i love so many things about you, but mostly it's just the joy you bring to each day we're together. oh, an did i mention your smile?

the best part is, you never seem to tire of ME. little old me. i am humbled by your love for me. every time i walk into the room you suck in some air and get so excited as if you're seeing me for the first time in your life. and that smile. oh my god, that smile. it melts me to the core. what a feeling to know that i take your breath away. not just sometimes. but EVERY SINGLE TIME you see me.

oh ave, if you only knew that you take my breathe away too. in so many ways. i look forward to many more breathless days.

xoxox,

mama

the end, the beginning

2008-01-13T21:50:00.000-08:00

well, it's official. the end of the christmas season. it has always been a tradition to leave up the tree until after my birthday. january 11. of course it was much easier for me this year with our little tree. my dad's tree is another story altogether. no on can put that much time into a tree and not leave it up until the middle of spring now can they!? today i took down all the christmas cards, and the credenzas seem so bare. what used to go there? a question i am asking myself a lot lately. before avery came into my life, what used to go there? and if mid january signifies the end of christmas, doesn't it also mean the beginning of a new season?

i've never been one

2008-01-11T08:50:00.000-08:00

i've never been one to let matt forget anything. so, in keeping with my usual antics i thought i would take this opportunity to remind him (and the world) of what HE was doing on HIS 30th birthday....

a leisurely coffee after
an uninterrupted 12 hours of sleep.

the best surfing spot on maui, just north of paia, where we watched all morning.

being caught in a rainstorm while hiking through a bamboo forest.

and finally, the best spring rolls on the face of the earth for dinner.

now, i've never been one to be jealous either. but, for the record: my 30th birthday does not involve ANY of these things.

photos

2008-01-07T08:58:00.000-08:00

photos of avery by jake ingman

once there, click on the photos at right to view more......wow!
jake you truely are a man of many talents!

marian lucille

2008-01-05T13:33:00.000-08:00

died on friday, december 28th, just before midnight.

when i whispered goodbye into her ear, she swiftly replied,

"twelve o'clock."

but when i left her bedside that evening i knew it wouldn't be long.

the clock struck eleven, her eyes flew open and welled up with tears.

it was almost time.

with my dad holding her hand, she died just as swiftly as she had replied to me...

twelve o'clock.

modern metaphors

2007-12-22T17:48:00.000-08:00

i grasp her cold hand and whisper, "i'm not ready for you to go..."
her eyelids flutter open. i notice for the first time that i have her nailbeds. it's funny the things you never notice. the things that connect us. so many things have come from her, my nailbeds are just a silly detail in the legacy she will leave behind.

the matriarch of my family is dying. and i'm not ready.

"oh deary," she scolds me, "you must be ready." and she is. then she shares with me the metaphor that she is counting on. "i believe god walks through his garden everyday and picks the flowers that he wants to take." i hate the thought, of god picking her, but cannot do anything but love the metaphor and the woman in front of me.

i have no such metaphor. and right now i need more than a metaphor, i am praying for a miracle.

i've been praying a lot. which isn't like me. but i'm lost and alone and tired. i'm tired of being self-sufficient and strong. tired of being the one who doesn't need help. who doesn't even think she needs god for godsake!

so the other day, on the way to visit my dying grandmother, I did something i've never done before. i actually let someone take care of me. i let the nice man under my hood to check my fluids. he added two quarts of oil, washer fluid, and anti-freeze. he took care of me, when i couldn't do it alone anymore. i couldn't even check my own fluids. but there is the metaphor, i guess. i'm letting god under my hood. and maybe this modern metaphor is not as beautiful as my grandmother's, but either way you look at it, fluids or flowers, we all need metaphors to live by. to die by.

secret spot

2007-12-13T12:29:00.000-08:00

we're going away this weekend to our secret spot. a log cabin in the woods. tucked away just far enough to feel like a real adventure. just the three of us. along with my knitting, a book, and lots of wine, bread and cheese. just a few nights away....celebrating the fact that we've been sharing eachother's secrets for 6 years...

perfection of the morning

2007-12-10T11:07:00.001-08:00

fourth annual

2007-12-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

when can something officially be called a "tradition?" well, this is the closest thing we've got. our dearest friends, a short walk over to the the christmas tree farm (4 blocks from our house), trapsing through the snow, finding the perfect spruce, dragging it back home, hot cocoa, nog and knob, and of course the fourth annual question, "where and the hell are we going to put this thing???" (yes, that's our tree off to the right in the above photo!)

it's always way too big, 'cause they look so much smaller in the woods. but it's a tradition that i love and i'd say that it's as close as we'll ever come to traditional.

this year was bittersweet due to bad weather. many couldn't make it. but the good news is everyone is alive.

oh, and the tree definitely won't fit in the door, but it sure looks nice on the front porch!

peep show

2007-11-27T10:02:00.000-08:00

lately i've been going to peep shows. for the last three nights actually. it's truely amazing. i feel like i'm the only one watching. i find myself getting all worked up. wondering if anyone else is seeing what i'm seeing. i have to be in just the right spot though. driving on backroads out along the prairie. or hiking up to the hilltop at dusk. all alone, i watch intently.

one night, she's big and round and white. the next night, blazing gold. slowly making her way up over the horizon. causing me to gasp as her peep show begins. then, as if she feels self-conscious showing ALL of herself to me, she covers herself back up. in a shawl of clouds.

the moon.
she's been giving me a private showing each night...

thanksgivings past

2007-11-22T08:33:00.000-08:00

reminiscing about thanksgivings past this morning as the snow falls over our sleepy house. it's good to be here. and by here i mean here, at this point in our lives. so many things have changed over the years, evolving to this very moment. this perfect moment in time.

recalling one of our first thanksgivings spent together in duluth, eating mama mia's pizza in my third floor apartment overlooking the lake. we sat on the floor with the box feeling only slightly homesick together. later that evening we went dancing at the raddison hotel downtown. we were the youngest couple there by at least 30 years. we laughed as we left there at midnight, trying not to slip on the ice as we made our way home tipsy and in love.

the following year, still in love, we were busy planning our wedding. thanksgiving day was spent with the new baby Charlie and in six short weeks we were married.

then, having survived a year on the farm, the death of matt's dad, and some small and some slightly larger marital bumps in the road, we took off for Europe to reflect on the last year. we spent thanksgiving day in st. ives england. on the cornwall coast. we ate this amazing turnip soup with garlic bread for lunch and then spent the afternoon on the beach soaking in the sun and watching school kids surf. no one there knew that it was american thanksgiving day. and that was just fine.

fast forward a year. we're in st. paul. living on portland and howell. pulling shots for pumpkin pie and eggnog lattes at starbucks.

now, for the fourth year in a row, we are here. in our very first (an hopefully last) home. and we're not alone either. baby avery sure has a way of making everyday more full.

and finally, today. brings the birth of another babe. melina jane bell. a new life comes in. and everything changes again. the world is shifted. our lives are spun off axis, then back into alignment. each year better than the one before.

we have much to be thankful for...

ahhhh november

2007-11-12T08:05:00.000-08:00

i've never really liked november. it seems to make winter "official", or something. plus it's dark, and windy, and not really any snow to speak of, so the cold hardly seems worth it. if you ask me, we could do away with november. ahhhh, but alas, i'm trying to be more positive this year. about winter. and about all sorts of other things.

so, i'm sitting in my kitchen, relaxing while ave is asleep. squash in the oven. listening to christmas music. sipping coffee with eggnog. learning to like november.....ahhhh november.

"gnome" chomsky

2007-10-31T09:12:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Will the real Noam Chomsky please step forward....

Sorry Mr. Chomsky. You've been outdone....
and by a 6 month old!

flo jo and the farm

2007-10-24T12:25:00.000-07:00

we visited the farm in hartland last weekend. we saw cousins,

cows

cats

and combines.

life at 6 months old is pretty great!

we even got to see great-grandma florence, also known as flo jo! at least to us....

mother of all...

2007-10-17T15:33:00.000-07:00

it was inevitable really. the first sickness. and believe me, this seems like the mother of all colds. matt's got it, jana's got it, and now avery's got it. it's so hard seeing your little one be miserable. and worse yet, being the only well one to take care of him. his runny nose. the coughing that becomes a gagging, then a horrible choking. the sneezing, the snot shooting out....i could go on. but i'll spare you the details. lets just say that when the hives broke out all over his poor, sad, little face and his eyes started swelling up, i did what any mother would do. i sprayed breastmilk all over his face, and in his eyes. and then i willed him to nurse and nurse until he fell asleep. the hives, gone. the eyes, not red or puffy. i offered matt the same remedy, which he declined, opting for some advil. oh well, i guess the mothering can only go so far. either way, the boys are now both fast asleep upstairs. it ain't easy being the mother of all...but it is rewarding. now time for a nice cup-o-tea and some much needed mothering of the mother.

he has arrived!

2007-10-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

little wesley is finally here! and not a moment too soon! he is perfect and very, very small. he has lots of black hair and he snorts a lot! his big brother turns 6 today! happy birthday charlie! and happy birthing day amber! you are a birth warrior!

harvest

2007-10-08T09:28:00.000-07:00

digging up muddy vegetables all day. pulling up the tomato, squash, and melon vines. feeding the heaping compost pile with rotten, squishy vegetables that were sacraficed in the frost. bumping around in the back of the pickup, down the dirt road to where we throw it all, until next year. laughing with others as we rake up mulch and dead tomatos squish between our toes. it's a dirty, hard job. but even now, after a long hard days work, more work lies ahead. my kitchen floor is covered in mud, brought in on dirty buckets. every space in my refridgerator is taken. every windowsill is crammed with tomatoes. there are herbs hanging everywhere to dry. cupboards stuffed with potatoes, onions and garlic. peppers strung on a line to across the kitchen window. acorn, butternut, delicata, and buttercup squash fill a basket. pumpkins line the front steps, wating to be carved. a pot of soup on the stove, the first of many to be stewed and frozen for the winter. i'm a bit overwhelmed, but there is no time for that. there is babyfood to be made (ave will soon be eating real food!), tomato sauce to be canned, pepper jelly to be created, and herbs to be made into tea. although my body is sore and tired from yesterday at the farm, i must press on. it's what women have done for centuries. and for the first time, i am honored to be doing this "women's work."

don't quit your day job

2007-10-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

how many times have you heard this phrase? 10, 15, 115 times? yeah, me too. it seems everyone thinks this is good advice to tell young people. so we finish school, only to find ourselves in some job that pays well and somehow manage to find enough time to pursue what we love IN ADDITION to working a job that we HATE. artists and musicians know this all too well. i've never really considered myself an artist or a musician (thought secretly i aspire to be both), but still, i know how they feel.

but what does it really mean? that doing what you love is a luxury? that you'll never be able to support yourself AND do what you love? that we should just be miserable like our parents and toil away for years and years, only to find out that in the end none of that mattered?

luckily i never had parents like this. my parents are still both trying to figure out what they love. and my dad is STILL quitting his day job (way to go dad!) but luckily i also have friends to show me the way...

Paige
and...
Luke
and...
Matt
and...
Tia
and...
Jake
and...
Damanda & Andy
and...
Anne it's only a matter of time until this blog gets discovered and you can quit your day job!

and... maybe i won't be burning my work uniform in a large backyard bonfine (again, way to go dad!) but, i did quit my day job.

Dahlia Dreams

2007-09-24T05:35:00.000-07:00

STATE FAIR DAHLIAS

isn't it amazing that people plant flowers?
there is no practical value in planting flowers.
it's not like growing vegetables to feed ourselves or planting trees so we can breathe.
unlike these, we don't need flowers to survive.

or do we?

is there a lessen in planting flowers? cultivating beauty for beauty's sake?
you must have to be a dreamer to plant flowers.
my grandpa avery was a dreamer.
he sowed under his field of soybeans to plant flowers.
gladiolas were his favorite.
but he enjoyed all kinds of flowers...I'm sure he would have loved these dahlias.
his wisdom was in that field of flowers. cultivating beauty.
but is it only the dreamers who are capable of such things?

if so, i'm dreaming of dahlias.

pickles and peppers and salsa oh my!

2007-09-19T06:11:00.000-07:00

does anyone else want to have a harvest party? i think we should all celebrate the autumn bounty together. in our backyard. as in soon. before the snow flies. everyone who reads this is welcome to come. you just have bring something from your garden, or something you made yourself. we'll feast and feast. how about next saturday late afternoon/evening?

5 months old

2007-09-18T20:59:00.000-07:00

ok, that last post was a bit depressing. however, this should lighten the mood a bit. avery at a few days old....and 5 months old. wow!

and these are a few of my favorite comments about my 22 pounder:

"he sure doesn't miss any breakfasts, now does he?"

"oh my god, you could enter him into a contest!"

"your arm muscles must be getting really strong."

"is that normal?"

"are you worried?"

no, i'm not too worried. as long as he doesn't keep up at this rate....he'd be 50 pounds by the time he was a year old! and now THAT would be something to see.

history and heaven

2007-09-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

everything is dying. the minute we're born we are all only just getting closer to our own death. and it's this time of year that reminds us of that-that all living things eventually die.

our rituals are dying. all summer long avery and i have walked around the garden each morning to see what's sprung up overnight. but now, nothing is new. the garden smells of death and decay. there are only rotten vines going back into the earth. another tomato falls, another person dies.

the woman i've been is dying. and i need to talk to paige so bad, but she's not here. she's in colorado at yet another funeral (the fifth this year). because like i said, everything is dying.

my identity, like my garden is dying. both of which contain my past and my future. i'm at a crossroads. and it's somewhere between history and heaven.

the great minnesota get together!

2007-09-04T08:16:00.000-07:00

matt and i had resolved to skip the fair this year. and as you all know, we are fair lovers. to simply say we are not going to the fair is an understatment. it would be like hemmingway saying he was simply not going to write another word. but with the diapers, and the stroller, and the sleep schedules to keep track of, would it be any fun anyway?!!!? we decided it would be too much trouble and we were coming to terms with our decision, until we saw a special on CBS Sunday morning on the Iowa state fair. after all the clips of huge pumpkins, and pigs and cows, and things to eat on stick, we looked at eachother and said "we're goin' to the fair!" so, with the help of my ma, we made the voyage to st. paul, armed with chew toys, wet ones and of course loads of cash. we ate ourselves silly and ave had a ball. as you can see....
he even got to sit with his papa where matt and his dad used to eat breakfast every year....yes breakfast at the fair, since they parked their motor home there all week.

and he bears a close resemblance to this giant pumkin
peg pushin' the pumpkin
and the last bite....a pronto pup
to hell with sleep schedules, this is the great Minnesota get together...and it only comes once a year!

good news, bad news

2007-08-28T11:09:00.001-07:00

the good news is, avery rolled over for the first time.

the bad news is, it was OFF the sofa in the back porch.

the good news is, matt was home.

the bad news was, matt was home.....and had to witness my hysteria.

the good news is, there appears to be no signs of brain damage.

the bad news is, a big 'ol goose egg appeared almost immediately.

the good news is, mama has learned her lesson.

the bad news is, she had to learn it (and so did Ave) the hard way. i mean really hard way. as in right on the cement floor hard.

ouch.

more flowers...

2007-08-24T06:55:00.000-07:00

the cake, the bouquet and the barn dance....check out the little girl in her party dress spinning. magic.

two weddings and a funeral

2007-08-22T06:02:00.000-07:00

over the past two weekends i have done two weddings. meaning, i was the florist and arranged the bouquets, the centerpieces, the cakes, the corsages, the alter flowers, etc. both brides wanted organic, local flowers and that is how they found me. i used flowers from the farm and from the ditches on backcountry roads. i found the jackpot on valley grove road, on the way to an old church. it was full of queen anne's lace, swirling milkweed, and daisies. i cut from my own garden and my neighbor's gardens (i asked of course). i loved spending days in the field, cutting flowers, grasses, herbs and such to fill my house with enought plant material to pull off each wedding. one weekend was brutally hot. over 100 degrees. the next weekend was chilly and basically biblical flooding (ok, maybe that's a slight exageration). despite the weather, it was incredible. i felt so alive while arranging, despite getting up at 5am to start so the flowers would be fresh. i worked hard (as many of you know i'm a perfectionist) to get each bouquet and arrangment just right. after delivering each wedding i felt a huge surge of excitment, pride, and renewed sense of creativity. basically, i was in heaven.

and then sunday came. and it was back to work at the hospital. it smelled of death. literally and metaphorically. i think this part of me is dead. i feel that piece of my life coming to an end. sure it's a nice paycheck, but can it compare to pulling over on valley grove road at dusk to cut wild flowers? i don't even need to answer that. the flowers say it all.....

day at the lake

2007-08-07T13:24:00.000-07:00

the company party at the lake was a huge success. everyone had fun wakeboarding, surfing and hanging out on the boat. Ave of course hung out under this willow tree and slept most of the day. however, he did wake up briefly to show off his new skills such as holding up his head, standing (with help of course) and smooching mama.

oh, and the scratch is from his fingernail, which makes him look pretty bad ass, especially in the surf shorts.

it's here and it's now

2007-08-03T08:33:00.001-07:00

Upon further consideration, I realized that the revolution is here and now. Just because I am a mom, doesn't mean I'm not part of a revolution. Just cause I spend most of my days in the garden, digging up vegetables doesn't mean I can't change the world.

In fact, CSA farms were started by a group of housewives in Japan who wanted to know where their food was coming from. They started working directly with organic farmers...and soon the word spread and the CSA revolution was born.

And there are also mothers who are sending their breastmilk to Africa to feed the orphans whose mother's have died of AIDS. If that is not revolutionary, I don't know what is.

These women are revolutionaries. And they are moms. Huh.
Who woulda thought....

where's the revolution?

2007-07-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

so, the other day i was talking to a friend. we were at the farm, sitting under the walnut tree. she was telling me about her new job and how she works with immigrants and fights for immigrants' rights. she is fluent in spanish. she speaks spanish to avery. i love that. i wish i could speak another language. but i can't. i can only arrange flowers.

so, as i arranged the flowers i asked her more about the life that she's living and the lives that she's changing. and she says that she mostly just sits in front of the computer emailing beaurocratic bullshit. and after that she said, "this can't be the revolution, can it?!" and i thought to myself, what revolution? is there a revolution happening?

so, it made me think about revolutions, and what happened to my inner revolutionary?

lately it's hard for me to think of being a revolutionary. i'm just so....tired. and the things worth fighting for now are my right to breast feed in public. my right to good, local food. my right to stay at home with my babe, or to work if I want to. but these are hardly the revolutions of my youth. nor the revolutions that my friend speaks of.

a boob revolution? a food revolution?

hardly new york times material. but i've swore off the media anyway, so why do i care? unfortunately, there is still a part of me that does. care, I mean. i want to start a revolution. but like i said, i can only arrange flowers.

break

2007-07-15T18:48:00.001-07:00

my infofast was incredible. no tv, no news, no books, no mags, no nothin' for a week. and it was a really nice break. in fact, i sort of forgot to check in again after the week was up (sorry anne). needless to say, i enjoyed my free time. i actually slowed down and began to really think about how i wanted to spend my time. my favorite new past-time...watching avery sleep. i had always heard people talk about watching their babies sleep and i secrectly thought, "that sounds like a perfect waste of time, shouldn't you be getting stuff done?? don't you have a LIFE??" well, it is heaven. watching him sleep. and what's even better is watching BOTH my boys fast asleep...and so, after a week of living my own life, instead of being told what to care about, i finally found my own newsworthy story. and it was right here all along.

tmi

2007-07-06T04:50:00.000-07:00

we had an interesting conversation the other night on paige's back porch. we talked about info. that is information for short. well, we got to talking about where we get our info., how we get our info. (print, web, t.v.) and how there is just way too much bad info. out there. we talked about how the media and context of our info. is so severely biased. and that we're bombarded daily with news and info. that other people think is important. but can we believe everything we see, read or hear? and is there just too much information?

what would it be like if we got our info. from our life experiences? what would it be like if people walked outside to check the weather rather than checking the local forcast? what would it have been like to learn about breastfeeding first hand, from other mothers rather than having to read a book? what if we all learned about the world from expereiencing it, rather than living vicariously through the info. we get on the nightly news, or in the paper?

then i started thinking about where i get MY info. there's the ellen show, and then the View (which i consider my "news" intake for the day). then there is the blog world, lots of info. to weed through there. and can't forget the monthly subscriptions: Dwell, Mothering, The Sun, Cookie. and, not to mention the 4 books i'm currently reading: Operating Instructions, The 7 daughters of Eve, Let my People go Surfiing, and Tracks. and of course, i balance all this out with the REAL source: MPR. But, with all this info., am I any better off? am i more informed? or am i just living less?

i think it's about time to get things straight. for myself.

in efforts to figure this out i'm going to challange myself to stop the info. i'm going for a WEEK, yes, a whole week without picking up a book, a magazine or turning on the tv (oh, and no blogs either) to see how well i can function in today's world without buying into the info. what will life be like without the info? i might just have to start thinking for myself (now that's a scary thought). i'll let you know how it goes. oh, and if anyone wants to join me, feel free. it may just be liberating!

how many signs does it take to get to the center of my tootsie pop?

2007-07-02T18:36:00.000-07:00

i'm asking for signs. signs that will bring me to the center of myself. signs that will show me which direction to go. signs that encourage me, that inspire me, that invite me to look at my life differently. i want a sign. I NEED a sign. but how many signs will it take???

so far i've received 4.

4! you may ask yourself, isn't that enough? well, yes, for a normal person. but i am NOT a normal person. and i keep asking myself how many signs it will take. and also, how do i know when i get a sign. and what if i am missing the signs. afterall, i do need to find the center of my tootsie pop.

happy birthday Amber!

2007-06-22T18:49:00.000-07:00

this time last year i was in thailand. and i missed my sister's birthday. i wanted to talk to her so bad it hurt. i wanted to talk to anyone back home. anyone to remind me of the life that existed there. to escape for a moment what i was seeing here.

it feels like a lifetime ago... yet i remember that night in perfect detail. walking around that whole island trying to find a phone that worked. my feet hurt from my flip flops and they were filthy from walking the dirty sidewalks and through the puddles because it had rained so hard all afternoon. and trying and trying the phones, but none of them worked. and jana just kept saying, "that's thailand." and i just kept wanting to scream, "how fucked up is that! if you are going to bother putting up phones and selling phone cards then, why don't you have phone lines?" and finally just giving up cause my feet hurt and my throat hurt from choking back tears.

and now looking back, thinking about how absurd it is to have phone lines across oceans. and people in the mountains selling pillows with stories on them to people like me who come home and put them on pillows that sit on nice couches. and what kind of world can this be i keep wondering? but, another year passes. and measuring my life in years is getting harder and harder to do because of all i've seen and heard and know. but a life is not only measured in years. luckily.

so, my sister is a another year older today. and the truth is, love transcends oceans....

lota

2007-06-15T22:29:00.001-07:00

"It's Lota. rhymes with Minnesota," she says with a chuckle after an hour of visiting with her. by now it's 7:30 and we were supposed to meet friends at the pool by 6:30. but walking down 4th street we got side tracked by a woman outside her house watering the peonies. but not just any woman. and not just any house.

it's the house matt and i have coveted ever since we started looking for houses here 3 years ago. it's a sweet, low-slung, mid-century gem, tucked amongst the victorian mansions of the east side. it's car-port, slanted roof-line and vertical cedar-siding caught our eye immediately. and so did lota. i remember when we first saw her. she was outside in her garden, it was a hot summer day, much like today. but we didn't have the courage to stop then (we weren't locals yet).

but today, walking with our stroller, feeling very local, we meandered through the east side on our way to the pool. we found ourselves instinctively walking down 4th, to see our favorite house. and there she was. all 5 feet of her. not feeling shy at all we told her we loved her home and asked if she could tell us a bit about it.

lota moved in with her husband in the summer of 1961. they bought the lot for $1200 and had a local architect design the house. his name was bob warn, and he was a student of frank lloyd wright. she said it caused quite a stir in the neighborhood, but she never did care what people thought, she said.

i liked her immediately. lota. she was a spit fire i could tell. and she was 89. we talked a a bit more and then, just as we were about to start our good-byes, she did something incredible...she invited us in! wow, what an honor we told her. "i can sense something about you two," she told us. "a lot of people stop and ask about the house, but i can tell you're really interested. wait here i have to go 'round and unlock it." and from the moment we entered until we left we heard the most incredible stories. what a gift it was to go through this woman's home with her and have her share the intimate details of her life. we just kept looking at eachother in awe as she showed us around. not only at the house, but at lota.

and as we stood in the doorway to leave, she told us how after her husband died that dozens of realtors had called to see if she would be selling. "i was polite at first, but then i started to get really agitated. they are going to have to carry me out of here--in a casket" she finally told them.

and i guess that's the lesson of lota. seeing the humaness behind the house. i have to be honest. the thought had crossed my mind years ago, when we first spotted the house and the "little old lady" outside in the garden. you can see where this is going.

i used to really love this house. but now i love lota. in fact, i'm going to have coffee with her again real soon. she may have the best house in town, but it's her, lota, that i really want to live in.

Happy Anniversary!

2007-06-12T10:27:00.000-07:00

here's a little kiss
for my little sis
who got married a year ago...

all i can say is...wow!

sleeping in the grass

2007-06-12T10:18:00.000-07:00

how do you measure summer?

2007-05-31T11:54:00.000-07:00

is it possible to measure summer? some people measure summer in t-ball games, in fish caught, or in trips to the lake. others measure summer in BBQ's, in shave-ices, or in country fairs. some measure summer in fresh tomatos, in lemonade stands, or even in mojitos.

i measure summer in tan lines....and seeing that i already have a flip-flop line on my feet (and it's not even june), i have a feeling this is going to be a VERY good summer.

is it possible to measure summer? if so, how do YOU measure summer?