"She refused to be bored, chiefly because she wasn't boring." Zelda Fitzgerald

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Trying for Stable

Am home and it feels good. A bit overwhelming but good. I spent yesterday soaking in the company of a few friends after stocking up on local raw milk and good fresh eggs from a farmer friend. Family is good but they fill a different tank than my mommy-friend community. It was nice to be back. Had a lot of good discussion, shared some laughs and let our children run wild together in one big squirming heap in the wading pool in front of us.

After the visiting I promptly went home and had a great big panic about the state of the practical things in my home. I washed the dishes before leaving and did all the laundry but there are still 4,000 things that suddenly need doing. How does that happen?!? The tomatoes need tying up, the cucumbers are in desperate need of harvesting, the front of our house looks abandoned for want of string-trimming, there are clothes to sort and put away after all that laundry, suitcases to unpack, a fridge that needs cleaning etc. etc. etc. I am not sure if I feel more inspired and ultra-motivated or overwhelmed and snowed under. Tough to decide sometimes.

I am trying to take today and get my feet under me, make some parts of my home pretty again and begin an organization/sanity restoring plan. There is never time enough to get every little thing in my life in order but I am determined to do the very best I at making productive stabs in the windows of time I get. Life is so punctuated by nursing breaks and potty visits and diaper changes and naps these days that I find it very hard to work on anything very cohesively. I live a pixelated existence with any number of fragmented, mosaic-style goals on my current plate.

Am trying to be in the moment, live easily, speak love and also work ambitiously towards creating the kind of life I mean to live. "Let the standards slip only when you must!" I tell myself, "But never cheapen the standards to make them weak or anemic just because life is full of challenge." Its a tall order but its the path I'm on right now.  I lit a candle, I made a nice To Do List, and I'm hacking away over here. If you feel like bringing an understanding spirit, a load of inspiration and a giant mint-iced tea...feel free to drop by!
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Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Golden Memories

Cropped transparent version of Image:Olympic f...
Cropped transparent version of Image:Olympic flag.svg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The Olympics were about the only real t.v. material I remember watching as a family when I was a little girl.We didn't have a television through my whole growing up (on purpose) so we had to go to my grandma's cabin five miles away or to a friend's house in order to catch any of the events. Man, did that make it seem like a big deal! I remember pretending I was Kristi Yamaguchi after watching her stunning skating performances and imagining how it might feel to do fabulous routines on the uneven parallel bars.
We were a family of nature lovers and artists, not really sports types for the most part. It seemed very important when Papa suddenly manifested team spirit and a magnetic attraction to viewing this sporting event. I remember feeling curious by his excitement and watching him cheer for a photo finish to see what it all meant and how you reacted to it.




I think The Olympics, chapter books and missionaries were the ways I learned about other cultures and countries. There wasn't a lot of first-hand ethnic variation in the north woods of Michigan. Seeing all those bright, unfamiliar flags and proud athletes from the other side of the globe representing their people seemed like something deeply poetic and opened the world to me in my little log house.  I remember watching my eccentric, witty, tall, liberal grandmother sitting next to me, my little legs pulled up Indian style on her couch, her leaning forward, pausing in the middle of her eternal Solitaire game squinting up at the little television set on the wall. Some American was being awarded the gold medal for their performance, they slipped the ribbon necklace over their neck, they clutched their roses, they waved to the crowd, and with the camera panning the sea of Americans and the winner's hand proudly over their heart, the music swelled into our national anthem, and next to me on the couch my clever, stoic grandmother had tears running down her cheeks. I was astonished, The Olympics were clearly important stuff.

And now, here I am watching re-runs of yesterdays key events on YouTube with my little boys who are watching my face to see what it all means and trying to understand how it all works. It gives me a deep thrill to see them acting our foot-races, being impressed by the good sportsmanship on the screen, asking if they can get out our flag to wave and making Tinker Toy torches. And I do hope I'm passing the flame on well.

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Monday, July 30, 2012

Fruit Of Our Labors

This is the first official produce of our new mini-orchard we planted last year. We have a bunch of new baby trees we planted on our property last spring: two plum trees, a peach tree, a cherry, a pear and a nectarine to keep our ancient apple tree company. Last year they just grew, and this year that's still where most of the energy went (they are starting to look like real trees now!) but one of our plums pulled out all the stops and made a single golden fruit.


It was condensed deliciousness. All our fruit farming hopes and gardening efforts congealed in one glowing orb. A and I split it one very early morning for breakfast while the dew was still on the grass, dripping juices on our hands, alternating bites. Sometimes we share an achingly happy vision of life together.
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