Inspired by...

We--all of us--have been made for goodness. We have been made for laughter. We have been made for caring, sharing, for compassion for we do indeed inhabit a moral universe. Yes, goodness is powerful.

Desmond Tutu

. . .

To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition...to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived: this is to have succeeded.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

. . .

Love shared anywhere transforms situations everywhere. Your life is your corner of the garden; tend to that and you tend to the world

Marianne Williamson

 

Gallery

Just a collection of images that bring out the happy & hygge in me. 

More at my tumblr, Gather

Reading

On my bookshelf

The Art of Possibility: Transforming Professional and Personal Life
Deafening
The Spies of Warsaw


Go to Goodreads »

Twittering

Entries in dedicated to the ones I love (17)

Wednesday
Jan202010

Cheers

This guy

is the birthday boy today

so we are busy celebrating:

pulled pork sandwiches, blueberry pie, presents, and snow tubing.

He's a gem. And I'm a lucky girl.

. . .

1. love the paisley shirt, the swiped over bangs, and the freckles.

2. volunteering to help teach middle schoolers mock trial and negotiation skills 

3. more tributes and lovey-doveyness here and here

4. on an unrelated note, Letters to a Parent is slowly but surely blossoming again. New post there...click on over if you'd like. You can also click to subscribe to LTAP posts via email.  Fancy!

Monday
Aug172009

Seize* the day

Never mind all the post-vacation unpacking, laundry, grocery shopping, email-returns, phone calls, cleaning, and everything else. I can't wait another minute to acknowledge and celebrate that she

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turned 16 over this weekend.

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Any words are inadequate to the task of expressing my feelings on this milestone. I love her dearly. She is the one who has taught me the most about myself and about mothering, the daughter who suffers from an inexperienced & flawed mother who is doing everything for the first time (and flying by the seat of my pants, mostly). We do clash sometimes (as mothers and daughters do) especially as I learn to hand over more and more of the "controlling interest" in this lovely life I have nurtured and cherished and played a role in creating (but, really, I know it is her life, after all). She is a vessel of light and laughter. She has a good heart. She makes us proud.

Look out, world, here she comes, with keys to the minivan in hand (very soon) and dates on her calendar...
Also, world, please be good to her.

*French for sixteen. I know, getting all fancy!

Friday
Aug072009

Singing the Baby Blues

The Blues

Much of what is said here
must be said twice...

Nobody will listen, it would seem,
if you simply admit
your baby left you early this morning
she didn't even stop to say good-bye.

But if you sing it again
with the help of the band...

people will not only listen;
they will shift to the sympathetic
edges of their chairs...
~Billy Collins

* * *

I was thumbing through a Billy Collins poetry book last night and that one spoke to me. Maybe because I've been a bit blue. Maybe because my baby done left me, too. (I said, my baby done left me, too. Do doo do do.) Or he will someday, anyway. He up and turned 11 today. The nerve!


Actually, it's with a lot of joy that we celebrate Sam today. We were sharing our favorite memories of Sam at breakfast today and G mentioned what a great head of hair Sam had as a baby: this shock of sandy hair standing straight up in the air like a gosling. He was a hit everywhere we went and the baby mascot for our ward and neighborhood.

He's always been a tender, strong, funny, smart sweetheart of a boy. I can't wait to see where his great heart and curious mind take him.

But.

It's with a pocket of melancholy that I greet each of Sam's milestones. I grin and clap and hug and bake and (secretly, in my heart) cry a little. The crucible of the youngest child, I suppose (along with the fact that there are very few photos of just him in those early years). I did it almost from the moment he came home from the hospital (Holly Hunter style, in full sob mode: this is the last time I'll bring a newborn home from the hospital...the last time I'll watch the stumbling first steps...the last time I send a child to kindergarten).

I know, I know. Get over it. Kids grow and discover and stretch the apron strings and launch their own lives. Parents support and applaud and nudge and work themselves out of a job (or else become like the creepy stalker mom in Love you Forever...sneaking in windows and climbing up ladders).

But I still reserve the right to get myself a microphone and a back-up band so I can belt out the blues on occasion.

* * *

In other blues news, my late summer blues/blahs are lifting, methinks.
And (coincidence?) we're heading off for a week in Maine (Acadia) for some forced togetherness dressed up all pretty in the guise of kayaking and walking and biking and playing games and eating.

Tuesday
Apr282009

The pride of Monroeville, Alabama

Speaking of Atticus Finch (as I was yesterday), happy birthday to Harper Lee, born on this day in 1926. Let's make it a national holiday!


What to do in celebration? How about:
Break out the movie and maybe roll each other down the street in a tire. Dress like a ham. Leave carved figures in a carved out knot of an old tree. Shoot a rabid dog. Be a wise parent. Sneak into a courthouse and listen to a shocking case. Ask lots of questions. Listen to the call of a mockingbird. Sit on the front porch. Or at least read this nice tribute, a Garrison Keillor essay published in the NY Times a few years ago.

p.s. Did you know her friends gave her a Christmas gift of one year off from work so she could write To Kill a Mockingbird?

"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird."

Sunday
Mar152009

Oh brothers!

I wasn't going to do birthday tributes this year but...
Oh well. I can break my own rules if I want to.

And this one's a two-fer.
Both of my fabulous brothers have birthdays this week.
Chris's is today, the Ides of March. (Beware!) 
I miss him. We miss him.
He is a world-traveling,
music-making
(that's him with the guitar),

people-loving,
cool-styling
(in the middle, below)
good-hearted man.
Hard to believe my baby bro is 29.
(especially since he was 7 when I left for college)
Happiest of days to you, Chris.
Sure do love you.

* * *
Matt's birthday was on Friday.  
Matt is one of my favorite people.
If you know him, you know what I mean.
Funny.
Smart.
(or wicked smaht, as we say here)
Talented.
Interesting.
Tender-hearted.
Authentic.


And he seriously knows how to rock the Halloween costume.

blue Matt group ^

Love you, Matt.
And sorry for pushing you down the slide
at Dennis the Menace Park that time.
Et cetera.
xoxoxo
*pictures swiped from their Facebook accounts. Thanks, brothers.