That's All

Reunion

I did forget my camera, which was indeed unfortunate, as yesterday was a grand reunion. I got to meet up with friend that I had seen only once in 10 years. I got to meet her wonderful little family, and we wandered about the campus where we met and had so many good times. So it is only fitting that U is also for: University. 

Universities are the perfect setting for demonstrations of all kinds. I came to campus one morning to find the grass covered with red and white flags representing war, war prisoners, numbers of something sad and awful. But the effect was beautiful.
An aesthetic favorite: bricks and sunlight, dappled or otherwise
A view out one University library window.
The bus stop.
An artsy overlook.
Mmm, the library.

So, we don't get to have proof of Saturdays adventures: not our favorite tomato cheese soup, not the ice cream or playground, not the giant chair, the LYS, or the miles we sauntered over sunny sidewalk until our children fell apart. But we will do have those lovely memories, and our promise not to let 7 years go by before another visit. 

The Way It's Supposed To Be

Some days turn out just the way they are supposed to. Friday we used the neighbors stinky, smoky burn pile as an excuse to load up the car lickety split, grab some snacks, and head out to the lake.  Nothing like too many ice cream bars to clear the smoke from your lungs.  

We had books in the shade, and wading in the sun. The water made some grass art for our benefit, and a crow tried to make off with our box of crackers. 

We watched Maddie dance in the shallows until the water started to sparkle, and it was time to head home. 

Some days turn out just the way they are supposed to. 

The Bug

Looks like my Maddie got the bug also. The crazy desire to Make Something. I don't know exactly what she is making. It has something to do with water, and color, and coffee filters. I don't think that Maddie herself actually knows exactly what it is that she is making, 

but she is singing as she works, a mindless happy little tune. That can only be good. Do you do that when I you are really involved in a project?  I think that I hum. And talk to myself loudly.

Look at that workspace. So orderly! More proof that she is my daughter.

An update: On Growing Up

Remember my Important Agreement: the one I made with Maddie regarding freedom and responsibility. Well she has taken up the reigns of wardrobe choice with flair. For the first little while, she didn't mix it up too much. She wanted the freedom, but wasn't quite sure what to do with it once she had it. But then the other day, a light bulb went on in her pretty little head, and she thought, "Hey, I can wear whatever I want! What am I going to do about that?" and just like that my little girl sprouted her own look, and her look is decidedly bohemian. Skirts over pants are the order of the day. Crazy colors and lots of jewelry. I am loving it. Mostly I am loving it because I have been to her class, and there is not another little girl there sporting the same type of finery. 

My little individual! Now, I know that this type of thinking may be the gateway drug to crazy notions like pink hair and nose rings. Whatever makes you feel pretty, hon.

The Point

You know that point in the day when you ask yourself a question, and your brain just says, "Uh uh." That point when there is just nothing left? I get that a lot. 

It is so very different from that fresh perspective driving to work in the morning, contemplating the possibilities of the day. I have a gorgeous drive to work. There are green fields on either side that bring to mind words like lush, and verdant. There are oak trees, and pine trees, that give way to tree lined streets of really cute houses. There is even a small rock mined mountain that is the home of three white mountain goats (I am not kidding) that we have irrevocably dubbed "the Goaties." I feel strongly that it is a Mama, a Daddy, and their kid ;)but my daughter holds firm to her belief that it is three girlfriends havin' good ol' times. I think she is just being oppositional. None of us has explored the option that they are the Billies Gruff.

The Point is- there are fields, and trees, and it is pretty. And I am awake. Seriously awake and the day is filled with possibilities. I am here to tell you that the possibilites have narrowed by the time those lush, verdant fields have deepened in the fading sun.  

By the time schedules and layouts have been mulled over and completed, mostly all I am contemplating is food. How good it will be, and how much effort I am prepared to use up to get it. Mmm dinner.

Don't misread my exhaustion. I have a cool job. I design t-shirts for a living. That is pretty cool as jobs go, but it is still exceedingly job-like at it's core. 

My point. I guess there are a several rolling about in here somewhere. 

It wasn't too long ago that I finally finished my long delayed art degree with the goal of finally having a job that allowed me to be creative at work. The idea was only partly to get paid for being creative. See, I know how little time is left in a day after you do the things that you have to do, and you get to do the things that you get to do. I wanted that big chunk of my day to be about something creative. Plus, I had one year left, and I knew that getting to go to school for a year was going to be SO fun. I was right. I want you to know that I did not waste that year. I rolled in those classes, and soaked them up until my fingers got all pruney. I took as many drawing, and painting, and designing, and getting messy classes as you can take without passing out. I was on campus all day, in studio with the charcoal and oils for hours, and I enjoyed (almost) every bit. And when I wasn't creating, I was thinking about creating. I almost let myself believe that this sort of creative energy could last for always. 

I am back in the real world now. But here's the thing: there is still room. Only a little bit of room sometimes, and only a little bit of energy sometimes; but not only is there room, there is a deep burning desire to make something (or write something apparently.) A new scarf, a little sketch, a masterpiece. 

Even when all you have left is, "Fire bad, tree pretty." Yes, I am a nerd.

Flower Light

It was the night of the book club at our Elementary School. We are celebrating Oregon authors, and are reading Cryptid Hunters, which turns out to be pretty stinkin' good. We talked about the book, and made up our own cryptids(spell check doesn't know the word either, extra points if you do.) Our elementary school gets innovative with the activities and tonight was full of projects to enjoy, including: apple painting (painting with apples , not on them); homemade, edible play dough; and journaling. Here is a little girlish art to inspire you. 

The flower glowed with all its might. Love that.

Granny's Square

Yesterday, Mother's day, we sat in the sunshine, three generations of mamas and the rest of the family too. We sipped virgin Lotus Blossoms, ate yummy food,  chatted, and crocheted. Well, I crocheted. Everyone else just chatted. 

Virgin Lotus Blossoms

Mango Nectar

Peach Nectar

Fresh Lime Juice

Coconut Milk

Sparkling Water

Serve over ice

Proportions are totally at your own discretion. For less than virginal blossoms: replace coconut milk and peach nectar with coconut rum,  peach schnapps, and add a dash of cream. 

Mothers

Can enough good things really be said about Mothers? I feel about Mother's Day, the same way that I feel about Earth day. "Earth gets ONE day!?" Although, honestly I believe that Mothers get more appreciation than Earth.

My own Mother (pictured above in some of my all time favorite pictures) is, well, amazing. One of the precious things about these pictures is that they have captured a few rare moments of stillness. My Mother is never still. She is always jumping up, moving around, cleaning something, and generally making things easier, or doing something, for someone else. It is very easy to be lazy when my Mother is around. It would be impossible to say enough good things about her. She is always sweet, always helpful, always giving, loving, thoughtful. She will hate this post. She will be embarrassed. I am saying it anyway!

I am lucky enough to have collected quite a few Mothers of the most wonderful kind in the years that I have been alive. I have come by some honestly, and some I keep out of pure selfishness. I have no business having so many wonderful Mothers, but I am keeping them anyway. How else am I going to grow up to be a good Mama like them?

So Little Time

Do you ever feel that if only you did not have to sleep, there would be time enough in a day? Tonight for instance, there are so many choices. The house is truly a mess. I could describe it. I won't. BUT, tomorrow is a fresh new day, perfect for cleaning, and tonight is my Friday night. I could also learn to crochet those granny squares for the pillow I am making. I could play with the raspberry, tangerine, pale yellow, and turquoise sock yarn that is calling my name, and join up little squares and circles into pretty patterns. BUT, I have also made myself a promise to be more healthful and exercise more. While crunches in the living room doesn't sound like nearly as much fun as yarn on the bed, I will feel better in the morning. 

So little time. It is already 9 o'clock. What to do...

Secret Garden

I felt absolutely no remorse when I cut these lilacs. The lilac bush sits way out at the back of our yard, behind the pear tree. You can't see the flowers from any part of the yard, window of the house, or view from the street. Talk about poor planning. 

This is a cheater picture. It is from last year. 
This one is this year.
I just love it when growing things grow in "curtains and fountains," as Mary Lennox would say. (click on Mary- I literally googled "Secret Garden curtains and fountains" and this was the first link that came up. Too cool.) I love it when they sprawl, and creep, and drape all over everything, and refuse to stay put. Maybe that is why I dislike boxwood hedges. They can be perfectly lovely in a formal English garden, but they are so darn obedient. 

Astoria

Oregon rain is the reason that Oregonians do not carry umbrellas. I am not talking about a downpour that you wait out, one eye on the window. O  This is a steady and continuous pitter patter of drops that, like Oregonians, is in no particular hurry. The air is wet, the ground is wet. You will get wet. Put up an umbrella and see. 

Astoria is no exception to the law that is Oregon Rain. It did rain, and I did get wet, leaving me in my red wool coat, with the faint odor of wet dog. Was I deterred? No, I was not!

I was rewarded with breakfast. The Blue Scorcher is my officially my favorite place in Astoria. 

Can you see why? Look at the gorgeous yellow wall behind the purple ornamental oregano. 

There were other gorgeous colors. Eggshell blue and brick red. 

   

Sage, maroon, and pale yellow. 

Lobelia.

Oregon rain does not so much stop, as it does meander away. It did, for about an hour. I followed the sunshine all the way to the top.

 Then I got to look down. Fabulous.

The I walked back down again. 

The rain wandered back, and it brought its friend the wind. Was I deterred? Yes, a little. But then I went back and had soup.

And the next day the sun came out and scared off the rain. The wind is older and harder to scare.

Practically every house in Astoria is absolutely gorgeous. I think that it must be a rule. I think that the man who wrote the rule was Captain Flavel, and then being against hypocrisy, he built himself the most gorgeous house. Ever. They call it the Flavel House.  

It is pretty nice inside too. 

I got a lot of pictures, but these were the only ones that did the place justice. 

Just in case you haven't gotten the picture, I really like old things. The older, and more broken down, the more I usually like them. Wait 'til they have a little rust, some moss for color, perfect. 

Love it.

And We're Off!

Off for the weekend. My sweet husband is going on a weekend field trip to Astoria for work, and I get to go! I think that I am all ready to go. I have jeans and comfy tops, and cute tops, and comfy shoes, and cute shoes. I have pajamas, two pairs. I have cosmetics, hairs products, and my toothbrush. I packed a bag of yarn and hooks, enough for three projects, for lounging about with projects time.  I packed a couple of magazines that I have yet to crack open. I have my camera for proof. I have my light, red jacket; and my long, red coat; for strolling about the waterfront in all weather. I have a black bamboo scarf tucked into my project bag- just in cases. I think that I am ready.

I am ready for lolling about, and strolling about. I am ready for boutiques, and bookshops, and beaches, and cafes. I am so ready.