art camp

This week, we did art camp at Belmont. And it was lovely. We made sun prints and handmade paper - which was so much fun. And, of course, all I want to do now is make sun prints and handmade paper. So far, I am refraining.

But, truly, what was the most pleasant part about this two-day adventure was the fabulous people. Parents, instructors, children, grandparents - the mix of personalities and ages was lovely and the result was a really mellow and kind-hearted art camp. A true delight.

I am grateful we got to be a part of this.

sun prints drying

a bit of paper-making instruction



all ears

This takes care of #2.

pony penning

Friends, I've been to Pony Penning Days. The event may sound familiar if you're a fan of Marguerite Henry's "Misty of Chincoteague."

I told myself and others that I was going because I really wanted my daughter to see the wild ponies. And that's true. But if you want something closer to the honest-to-goodness, authentic, turn the lights off and I'll tell you the truth, it's this: I've wanted to go watch the wild ponies swim and parade and do everything that I'd read in that book since I was a kid. A little, powerless kid.

The feeling, the thrill, the internal (and external) smile that the whole day was - even though it was a boiling 100 degrees outside - that is something that doesn't happen very often, I'm afraid.

I felt fulfilled.

Happy.

As I peered through the binoculars at the ponies plunging through the water and as they came so near as they paraded by, it felt right. Like, here's this piece that you didn't even know was missing and ta-da! it fits. And more importantly, it's really important that you have this piece.



watching the pony parade



ponies relaxing at the corral on the carnival grounds

 My pictures are less than fabulous. If you want to see fabulous photographs, check this out.

This takes care of #14.

right now

• preparing to participate in A Week in the Life
• rewriting a manuscript now that I've got my editor's brilliant comments and ideas in hand
• drooling over the prints at Quercus Design. I discovered this woman's work during my visit to Maine. The postcards stopped me in my tracks and danced around my mind for weeks. OK, her collections are still dancing in my head. And I like it.
• crossing off #21 on The List
• making notepads by stapling stacks of my scrap paper together
• loving the produce at the farmer's market: fingerling potatoes, beans, watermelon, cantaloupe, corn, artichokes, cherry tomatoes.
• reading these books: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (again), One Man's Meat by E.B. White, Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell, Water Paper Paint by Heather Smith Jones (her last name cracks me up, I assume Smith is her maiden name and when she got married she added Jones, you  know to spice things up)
• yearning for a nap
• rejoicing for this cloudy day
• using our toddler crayons (line a muffin pan with parchment paper, fill with broken crayons that have been peeled, heat in an oven heated to 250 degrees until sort of melted, this took about 30 minutes for us) these  crayons are brilliant: I no longer have to deal with crayons snapping in my hands as I color, I just put one of these beasts in my hand and go crazy on the paper. SO SATISFYING!
• listening to some Dan Zanes

words to ponder

This was written by Erma Bombeck near the end of her life...

"If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace. I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage. I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life. I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day. I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's".. More "I'm sorrys" ... But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back."

doing the heavy lifting

"You are not going to find the meaning of life hidden under a rock written by someone else. You'll find it by giving meaning to life from inside yourself." ~ Dr. Robert Firestone

gem

I stumbled upon this blog a month ago and have to share it with you.

So far, it's inspired me to write a family mission statement (along with the help of the family), put together a Home Management Notebook and to start seeing myself as a professional mom.

I hope it's helpful and inspirational to you as well.

flump

We have been: driving! hiking! exploring! seeing! thinking! eating new food! getting overloaded (with ideas)! trying to process those ideas! drinking coffee! reading! doing laundry! sorting! making! creating! reading! vacuuming! hustling! reading! hustling! fixing! preparing! going! going! going!

And I need some deep breathing and a quiet moment.

And then I'll be back, really.

happy list

1. sea glass
2. long walks
3. 70-degree weather
4. family reading time
5. mason jars
6. blank notebooks
7. the perfect shade of blue on a t-shirt
8. hand-me-down clothes
9. animal crackers
10. perfect timing

right now

We are:
digging us some Edith Piaf
reading Stuart Little by E.B. White out loud
creating collages
dreaming of beachcombing
working on a new manuscript
creating our own summer reading program because the one here is PATHETIC
trying to figure out how I will physically return the 82 (no joke!) books I have checked out from the library
making some yummy mesquite chocolate chip cookies

klein bag

My latest addiction:

I've never been a purse girl. Yet, I have been struggling with how to store my wallet, keys, pencil and pen, moleskine, sunglasses, bandana and lip gloss.

And then I discovered these Klein hardware storage bags.

All my stuff fits in there, with just enough room to spare. I throw it in the passenger seat of my car and go, it fits into my grocery basket perfectly, I can toss it in my girl's stroller and we're off. It's just right. It's not too precious, so I can wash it in the washing machine. A practical, yet funky solution to keep my stuff together.

from an undated LIFE interview with Hugh Laurie

LIFE: Your father, who won an Olympic gold medal in rowing for England, also coached you in the sport. Share a bit of his oarsman wisdom.
LAURIE: My father didn't deliberately coin aphorisms. He was far too modest a man to think that anyone would be writing down his profundities. I do remember him saying some very good things like "Any idiot can win." That's always stayed with [me]. What he meant was "Winning doesn't actually teach you anything." You win. End of story. But the losing and how you deal with and and what you take from it - that's the interesting bit...
The whole thing about rowing is that you're facing the wrong way. If you fall behind, you can' see who's winning. That starts to mess with your head: how you keep in contact until you push for the finish line. [My father and I] were discussing there very strategic pushes and he said, "Well, you could do all that, but I remember when I rowed, we'd just have one push. You put everything into that one push, and if it it doesn't work, well, we all lose some races." The funny thing about that was, he never did lose any races. He won everything. But I thought that was a wonderful way of looking at life: You have one big push. Put everything you've got into it. If it doesn't work, well, we all lose some races. If you're trying to hold back, if you don't commit, you're never going to get results."

happy list

1. sending & receiving packages in the mail
2. freshly painted toenails
3. thunderstorms
4. lists
5. a new red tricycle
6. just-sharpened pencils
7. ordering books on the internet
8. mason jars
9. summer pajamas
10. watching my girl sleep

summer reading

In honor of the kick-off of our local summer reading program (yippeee!), here are two links about preventing the "summer slide" from the International Reading Association and Reading is Fundamental.  Happy summer reading!

everything

I am loving everything this woman is creating. Everything. She is making me wish I had an extra $500 lying around while also making me reconsider everything I have ever thought about quilting. Enjoy!

peonies by Mary Oliver

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open ---
pools of lace,
white and pink ---
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweep sap,
taking it away

to their dark underground cities ---
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again ---
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

right now

we just bought Qwirkle and have been playing it every night. every day, my girl plays with it, too, in her own way: matching shapes, sorting colors, counting, etc.

reading The Social Animal by David Brooks and pretty much having my mind blown

relishing the fact that I had the courage to call a major Time Out for the whole family on Tuesday: sometimes it's necessary

looking forward to a bonfire on Friday...and a long weekend

processing all the goodness of a weekend in D.C. filled with art and friendship: I got to reconnect with a friend from college and it was filled with meandering conversations and recognition

wondering what The Hubby and I should do to mark 10 years. (I have a great gift for him, but I'm not sure what I want and he is not a mind reader and I am impossible to shop for so I feel like I should just tell him what I want, but I'm not sure that what I want is worthy of a 10th Anniversary. ahem.)

preparing for a nice, long hike this weekend in Shenandoah National Forest

falling in love with Charley Harper's artwork...

what are you doing right now?

from Jim Rohn

"You are the average of the 5 people you spend the most time with."

30 day challenge

I am at the beginning of a 30-Day-Challenge to get up early. OK, so early is relative. For this challenge I decided to spend the first 15 days waking at 6:30 a.m. with the plan to bump it up to 6 a.m. after that.

I had been doing really fantastic waking up early in March and the first half of April, but I fell off the wagon in late April. Well, I'm back on it.

I'm posting this so that I have some way of being held accountable.

good things right now

• the birth of my friend's twin babies with most excellent names: Samuel and Juniper. seriously, aren't those names perfect?
• a run of rainy days (exactly what I need right now)
• a new soup recipe to try: from my girl's favorite book at the moment, "Soup Day" by Melissa Iwai
• another query crafted and sent to an editor
• this camera - I had no idea there was an instant film camera on the market! - I've missed my polaroid film so much - I may just have to get this
• friends who are so kind. kind in ways that I don't deserve or warrant. a group of them are going to cut down our dead tree. another is coming to watch my girl while I make a phone call. (there is no way to pay people back, really, is there? no gift is enough. just a return gesture, a strengthening of the friendship bond, a promise to be there when they need us. right? I'm humbled and grateful.)
• plans to make this have begun. (warning: very slow link, but worth the view)
• dreams of making a new quilt, OK quilts, have begun dancing in my head with inspiration from Rothko and a pile of bandanas
• the resumption of our daily family walks has been such a delight - hello longer days
• summer pajamas!

What good things are happening for you?

#28

In junior high, I lived in Nashville: the South. As a result, we spent what felt like months studying the Civil War. I memorized battle dates (and then promptly forgot them), built dioramas, wrote special reports, learned about the great generals.

And yet, I never really understood what the Civil War was all about. Was I too young to understand the complexity of the reasons for the war? Yes. Was I too immature to even begin to fathom what it would be like to fight against your own brother? Yes. Was I too spoiled to begin to guess how exhausting it would be to march hundreds of miles? Yes. Was I too ignorant to guess at what our nation would be like today had the Union been demolished? Yes.

But, I'm an adult now. With a husband I love. A daughter I would die for. A country I love. And I am living in the belt buckle of the Civil War.

Last weekend, we went to Gettysburg National Military Park. Standing atop Little Round Top, I teared up. I felt an enormous sadness. A sadness for all the men: husbands, brothers, fathers, friends killed.

The week before our trip I read The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara. And for the first time I felt such empathy for both sides, I understood the different perspectives and I had such a strong respect for the soldiers who fought. (This is a lovely, very easy to read book. I was hesitant to start it because I've never been "into" the Civil War and thought all those reenactors were geeks. No more.)

We are now watching the movie "Gods and Generals" which is about the Battles of Manassas, Fredericksburg and Chancelorsville. There are more books to read, more battlefields to visit and more movies to watch. But I can finally say, friends, that I am beginning to appreciate the sacrifices that all those men (and women) made for us.

Oh yes, back to the subject. Gettysburg was phenomenal. We spent the day, could have spent the week. I wasn't too sure what we would find; it is a battlefield after all. How interesting could it be? Well, very. We followed the CD audio tour and enjoyed every moment.