fodder+folly

follies of the week:
-not speaking up when I should.
-speaking out when I shouldn't.
-mistaking other peoples' baggage as my own.
-food stuck on forgotten dishes in the sink.
-up too late at night.
-forgetting to buy coffee beans.
-overdue library books.

find me over there

something very short by me over at Anchor&Plume Press.  #verysmallveryshort. 

Click through to check it out. 

I encourage you to peruse the pages of Anchor&Plume Press 

and like them on Facebook! 

You will be so glad you did. xxoo

midweek messiness: rearranging furniture. plotting out priorities.

my house feels ordered for once. I spent the weekend cleaning, sweeping and pushing around furniture to get at the dust clots clogging up the underneath of things. I especially appreciate that the boys pitched in, not only cleaning their rooms and their bathroom, but they helped fold the laundry as well...it may have not been perfect but it was done.  Once I started to move the furniture around to get after all the dusty furry things, I couldn't stop and ended up rearranging my living room. There is something to be said for rearranging your furniture. For me it as always been therapeutic. I find that moving around the furniture frees up clogged spirits and puts life, and my furniture, in a whole new perspective.  Even though it is a trifle annoying to my number one, I find it liberating. I feel as if things are a bit more in focus for me. I suppose part of it is that I am a very visual person, and when the house always looks the same, my eyes feel bored and uninspired.

As the house was more in order, yesterday I was able to get out into our backyard and plot out a bit more of our garden. The dogs have torn up a bit of the grass and I am debating fencing that part off to grow vegetables and squash there. Number One is not so sure as it prevents the boys having free reign to run straight across the yard; they will have to navigate a bit more....but I love the idea of having a bit more produce this fall that is grown by us. The boys love gardening so I think they may get behind the idea. We will have to put it to a vote of some sorts before the weekend. We have a bit more flexibility in planting schedules as we live in a more temperate climate, but if we want squash, we need to plant this weekend so we can take advantage of the full summer sun.

Lou over at a littlegreenshed asked for green this week for her Nature in the Home series, so I took a photo of a cutting from the jade plant in our backyard. I am glad this was the theme this week as this little cutting has been a bit ignored by me, sitting on the windowsill in the kitchen. I now see that she is ready to be potted; she has sprouted some healthy roots. It took a while but they are there! 

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What are you plotting, cleaning, and growing in your home this week? I would love to know. xxoo

a pause :: for small

making scones on a saturday morning. small bits of flour everywhere. the tiniest of bits caught upon the edge of the bowl. in the moments between the pulling together of the flour, the sugar, and the milk; in the moments between the kneading of the batter out on the table and the placing of them into the oven, there are small bits of quiet, a pause of my breath, all caught in a larger busier one: of boys scattered around the living room, peels of laughter in early morning sun; of dogs beneath my feet, a husband sleeping in, and birds whistling their sweet song outside. these small strands of life weave up our larger tapestry.
    a small fraction that fits into the morning,
                     that clicks into place
 on a weekend,
        that completes, someday, perhaps,
a larger whole.

i am sure my boys won't remember the exact scones made on this very day, but i hope they remember the small moments scooped up and threaded into the larger moments of their own story.

this smallness, this insignificance; moments so small, yet so intrinsic, help forge Life so large.  

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joining in with raincoast creative salon & bedsidesign for fotopholio.

the clickety clack call of the weekend

1. the youngest drawing, again. this time it is a mixed media of permanent marker and crayon.
2. the remains of a homemade scone.
3. ducks at the cafe where we celebrated my sis's birthday.
4. more ducks.
5. outdoor dining.
6. a sea of folks.

7. my beautiful sister at her birthday fete, with her babe. 

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portraits of the boys :: 21 of 52

just moments ago, 

    seconds even,

the quick smile across your face,

the snap of your fingers,

the brush of your lashes, 

a deep full song-sigh

    soft in the night,

you are older. 

 

fodder+folly

follies of the week:

-feeling defeated...by laundry.

-second guessing, that leads to third guessing, that leads to circular self-doubt. 

-time not well spent. 

-too much sugar in my tea.

-email...

midweek messiness :: paths and flowers strewn

Before you can blink your eye, midweek will leave us and the sweet slide to the weekend begins. This weekend is a long holiday weekend here, and an unofficial start of sorts to the joys of summer. There are grills to be turned on, campfires to be made and tents to be set up. Most of this, for us, will be done in our yard.

i am over there

hello friends! i am over here this wednesday day. a poem for kindred's online journal at anchor&plume press. 

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xxoo hope you all are well....safe, warm, & loved, where ever you may be this day. 

a pause :: eyes

:: in the early morning light, i walk past your pasture.  seeing me out of the corner of your eye, you trot across the dew to come and greet me. "oh, hello" you say, nudging me for a treat. i have none. i wait for an apple to appear in my hand so i have an excuse to linger with you a bit longer, to feel your squishy, bristly heated nose in the soft cool air as you nibble something out of my flat handed palm. oh how i wish I was magic, just for a moment, so i could conjure up something to give to you. i see you, looking at me with deep hope and affection; a desire, a wish, that i would have something to offer you. but all i have is my hand to scratch you behind your ear. i do just that. it will have to do for now, this quick hello. i want to linger, but i have a hurried busy day ahead, so i walk on, leaving you behind with a bit of want in your eyes::

portraits of the boys :: week 20 of 52

Oh my sweet boys, what a time you had in North Carolina. You had free run of this place -150acres!

fodder+folly

 follies of the week:
-the desire to show that I am right in all situations.
-not listening to my father more.
-listening to my insecurities.
-not appreciating the small moments with the boys.
-listening to my father too much.

on raising boys.

Trying to raise tender yet hearty men is as easy as learning to be a concert violinist overnight; it feels absolutely impossible somedays. Oh I know they are all tender hearted souls. I witness it in different ways on an almost daily basis. Last week when my youngest was home sick, I let him watch a movie, "Honey I Shrunk The Kids." One aspect of the plot is this: the children in the story are shrunk to the size of ants, then they befriend an ant. Then the ant dies. As a result of this plot twist, I found my little man weeping into his pillow over  the untimely death of the little baby ant. My heart swelled with achey love and I wanted to scoop him up, hold him and wipe away his tears...however, he wanted none of it. He knew that he was vulnerable in his weeping and my show of affection made him more so. It was hard to let that moment go.

midweek messy :: finding flowers & reclaiming one's self

In finding these flowers, laying them out on the table, cutting off their ends and finding the perfect glass jar to put them in, I began to reflect on things I do that are for me, and things I do that are for others. I love gathering flowers on a weekly basis. I feel like it is a small gift Lou at LittleGreenShed has given me. (this week's theme pink). But somedays I need a bit more, something that feeds my soul daily. Somedays I just do. So in these cast out hours, small snippets of time, I think we often are trying to figure out who we are and what we are doing on this small earth. Is there something out there that you have found that nourishes who you are? Is it breathing deeply in bed before sleep? Walking, running in a neighborhood before dawn? Is it pruning your garden, pulling out weeds all by your self in the hot pouring sun? 

poetic pause :: energy

energy bound and brought,

love-light entered, and sought.

a north carolina weekend

morning soul, daybreak wandering.

dusting off travel boned fatigue

to walk amongst the song 

sung deep within my heart. 

boys portraits :: week 19 of 52

These boys, how I do love them ever so so much. The oldest was incredibly allusive these past few days. So alas, no photo for him.  As for the other two, I am thoroughly enjoying trying to catch them unaware. I hold this, in my day in and day out, as a small metaphor for my heart, to be open and open and still and listening, at peace with the Mama-cat in me, taking them all in, letting them Be.

So I silently  scoop up these tiny moments and hold onto them before they pass me by, scurrying on down their path.

old soul reads

We flew to the east coast today. It was a hurried blue blur of folding, fetching, cleaning and packing before we left early, early to catch our 6am flight out of LAX. Exhausted beyond belief but enjoying the boys' in flight preoccupations I put to use my small fraction of time and read, from cover to cover, the book "Kira, Kira" by Cynthia Kadohata. The prose was simple yet lyrical and it was not a surprise to me that the short but intense read won a Newberry. Perhaps it was because I was exhausted. Perhaps because I have suffered loss in recent months. Perhaps because I know how much my mother would have loved this novel. Perhaps. However this 'perhaps' is written, it's achingly beautiful prose had me weeping openly on the plane for the last 1/4 of the book. This small moment in time left me reflecting on how we, as a society, pass through grief, bury our loved ones, put to rest our dreams.

eating well, living well, sustaining

I have a bit of a crush on preserving and canning now. This past weekend I fell in love with all those fresh vegetables and fruit, CSA harvested, brought in by caring hands and artfully made into something we can have with us, in our cupboards, throughout the year. There was something very soothing in using these foods, bringing out their flavors, knowing that will not be thrown out. I felt as if we were making little treasures for ourselves, little presents to look forward to in the {near} future. 

midweek messy :: nature gathered

 Gathered from my neighbor and sweet friend's tree, bountiful Meyer lemons. These are a shining "pro" on my list of happy things about living in West Los Angeles.  This weekend, my friend Jennifer taught a class on preserving and canning. As it was ending she gave us a tour of her cabinets where she kept the food she preserves, then she urged us to go harvest some Meyer lemons for ourselves.  Out my friend's back door and upon first glance of her tree, I thought she was mistaken to tell so many of us to take some home. However, as I approached, I saw dappled hints of yellow though the leaves.  Next to the tree I kneeled down and parted the leaves, looking for the yellow fruit. There I saw the magic underbelly of life that was hidden from my very grownup eye. There were oh! so many lemons!  Not unlike a child who finally understands her mother's advice, I then knew why she urged us to take as many as we wished.

This old lemon tree and her heavy ripe lemons, harvest ready, hanging so plentiful down from the branches, atop the rich soil, amongst the humming of bees, were a gathering of nature's art; she pulled me below her branches just as the strong scent of citrus lulls those bees to her flowers. Under there, grasping at lemons, oh how I longed to be young again; to be small, not grown. I would make this shaded small tree my playhouse, my home in the out of the doors.  In the heat and quiet of the afternoon, I would place an old blanket there, and drag my dollies and my old stuffed Paddington bear out from the house, where all would be invited to tea: the dollies, Paddington, the bees and me. Tea time beneath the scrubbed crisp scent of those lemons. We would laze under the tree, spend hours there, out amongst the bees and the white flowers. There I would learn the language of bees, the secrets of their pollen and the honeyed home of their hive.  Never to be stung by a single one, I would watch them as they danced in and out of the flowers and the lemons, feel them humming across my baby blond hair. I would learn to hold them on my hand; and they would listen to me as they listened to their queen. Me, Rebecca, Royal Princess of Meyer Lemons and their Flowers; Heiress to the Kingdom of Bees. The scent of the flowered fruit and slow decay of the tart lemons would stain my skin, and as I became older, the scent would always linger, never allowing itself to be scrubbed out. Oh to be young again, small, not grown, sitting at the foot of nature, blessed by the yellowed gifted fruit of this tree.

So I scooped up as many as I felt right and brought them home, still slightly intoxicated by their scent, their promise, their beauty, their art. I have yet to decide what to do with them. Perhaps something like as beautiful as my friend has done. I want to preserve their beauty a little longer.

 Nature Gathered for my midweek messy.

Nature In The Home with Lou at a LittleGreenShed.
xxoo

poetic pause :: apart

there are things that are together,
and there are things that are apart.

seamed sown collected, then slowly stitched undone.

Hello Monday!

Hello Monday!

You are almost over and I am quite content.
This day has been a whirlwind, fast descent.

portraits :: 18 of 52

portrait of me+one, holding a sweet boy's hand. 

fodder+folly

follies of the week:
-the desire to be more than perfect.
-throwing away ideas and plans that are risky but could be rewarding,
 thinking that I am never good enough to take these risks combined
 with my worry of failure in the face of perfection
-never letting things go. because really, there are some things that really need to be let go.

a day with my merry brood :: happiness abbreviated

+get up. later than you wanted. again.

+make coffee. this entails grinding the coffee, getting out mugs, feeding the other mammals that inhabit your home, all whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. remember you wanted the Chemex coffee maker, even though it takes a million years to brew, it makes the-best-damn-coffee-you-have-ever-tasted, so you don't mind the wait. well maybe. when its all done and poured, you then wait for the coffee to wake you up. again.

on the first day of may :: midweek messiness, perfection and flowers

Perfection is my midweek messy. The house is actually(semi) clean as I spent a large part of yesterday afternoon folding laundry. When the eldest came home I had him clean his room and it inspired me to do a mid-week vacuum as well. The younger two boys are running track this spring so I feel like I have an extra hour to get things done on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons before the daily dance of homework and dinner making.

Oh that perfection though, it messes me up somedays; the desire to be the best, to be perfect at whatever I do. This desire doesn't always surface out from underneath my skin, but I think that the small girl in me, who never seemed to do anything quite right, so wants to be perfect at...something. This leads to quite an awkward outlook on life at times because it hinders my ability to see clearly or at least to have proper perspective on things. Perhaps my perfection is a desire to compete, a deep desire to compete with my Self. However healthy competition may be, I don't think that this internal struggle to be perfect, the lofty pedestal I place things I want to do or make, is healthy; especially because upon failure, I want to abandon ship, leave my wrecked project on a forgotten shore.