sascha the boy

Some friends watched Pup for the weekend while we were off adventuring. They took a few photos along the way, and I couldn't help but post a few. Our own photos of Pup are, well, pretty bad. They're blurry or dark, and often shot at extremely close proximity. He thinks he's a lapdog, and any time you're looking at him (i.e. trying to get him to look at you so you can take a photo) he thinks it means, "Jump around, get excited! Better yet, jump on me!"

I don't know how they did it, but they got him to stand still and the photos are great!

Here he is with his friend, Coffee.

snakes and planes

Memorial Day is always poignant. So many wars, battles, scars, stories. There were adventures, too, and many friendships forged.

My Grandpa Fred passed away five years ago (May 21, 2006) and was in the army in World War II. He was posted in exotic places like India and Northern Africa, and had so many stories. He once told me how he and a few friends placed a cobra under a fellow soldiers' helmet. This soldier happened to be deathly afraid of snakes, and they put the cobra on his cot (in one of those giant cloth tents with the thick wooden tent poles). He wet himself when he lifted his helmet. My Grandfather paused as he finished the story and said, "Thinking back, it wasn't the nicest thing to do."

He survived a cargo plane crash in the El Dorado National Forest on November 2, 1941 (also one of his granddaughters' birthdays) and the History Channel even did a story on him. Fifty years later, he was the last survivor.

He was a woodworker, and an antiques enthusiast. He loved to travel, and at 80 years old he took a trip to Vietnam to see the places his son had gone as a soldier in the Vietnam War.

We have a woodworking shop in our basement thanks to his many tools and machines (a new shelf in our bathroom, too!).

This photo is of my great-grandparents Andrew and Anna, my Grandfather Fred, and his little sister, Signe. I can see my uncles in his face, and love to think of all the stories I have heard.

Though they are gone, there are still the stories, the memories, the moments that we can hold dear. I like to spend a little time appreciating those who were, for they have left little treasures.

The Ranger Station Report

to learn this

"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...

It's about learning to dance in the rain."

~Vivian Greene

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet

voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."

~Mary Anne Radmacher

photo courtesy

bites

Kids are funny. They talk with squeaky voices, they run around escaping vacuum cleaners, making pinecones into supper, and they hit and bite each other. I like their tiny little fingers and toes, and the silly things they say.

A two year old once asked me (after a very quiet 20 minutes as he was supposedly falling asleep): "When a shark bites you, do you die?"

"Uh.... I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think, yeah, you do."

A four year old saw me one day without makeup, and the next day with makeup (and combed hair) and said, "You don't look like you, you look beautiful."

And then there is the precocious three year old who bit her twin sister on the inner thigh, leaving a purple mark and even a little bit of blood. When told "Don't bite Sissy," she replied, "But I'm a dinosaur."

Who can argue with that?

Dinosaur courtesy of Amazing World

Calvin and Hobbes comic courtesy

sleep and walking

Today I'm wanting one of those fancy sunrise simulator alarm clocks that tweet like birds and slowly get brighter until you wake to find yourself in a bright dawn. I feel sleepy when I get up in the morning, and it may be due to the 8 long months of rain and clouds, with an 8am sunrise and a 3pm sunset. It may be that I don't exercise enough, or eat right, or go to bed early enough, but I like that I could buy a new lamp and attack the problem that way.

Technology is fun, and I like the idea of waking up to a pretty glow (and don't forget the chirping birds!).

In another vein, and I apologize if the two veins are slightly un-related:

Last night I watched a movie about a group of Gulag prisoners (the Gulags were forced labor camps set up by the Soviets from 1930-1955 where millions upon millions of people died) who escaped and then walked 4,000 miles to freedom across the Gobi Desert and through the Himalayas.

It amazes me the lengths to which people will go to find freedom. Their trek was nothing if not awful, crossing some of the most inhospitable terrain on foot. They arrived with less than half of the number they escaped with, but they kept on walking until they were out of the shadow of their Communist captors.

The movie led me to thinking about our prison systems, war, and politics in general and now I'm sleepy again. I wish I had my sun-simulator.

ingenuity

Rest, ice, compression, elevate.

That's what you're supposed to do with a sprained ankle.

I know this because I sprained my ankle over the weekend. Lucky me, I decided to look away while running down a hill at the park just as a large tree root threw itself under my foot.

Today I decided to walk all over the place, up and down stairs, drive the truck (manual transmission) and 'suddenly' it started hurting. In actuality, it's been hurting all day (because it's sprained), so I took the pain for normal discomfort and paid no mind. Unfortunately, when I finally decided to take a look at it, the ankle part had swollen to twice its size and I had to scramble to ice it with whatever we had on hand. I settled on a 3-month old loaf of frozen bread. After twenty minutes of icing, I elevated it on a roll of bubble wrap. And of course this set me to thinking.

I love (passionately, tenderly, joyfully) the human ability to use tools to accomplish our ends. For instance: if there's a dish on a high shelf that I can't quite reach, I can grab a large soup ladle and extend my arm by nearly half its length! How exciting! It makes me giggle every time.

I'm trying to think of other examples, such as using using a pencil to hold your hair back, or an outdated laptop to hold a door closed. They don't always have to make sense.

The bubble wrap is making crunching noises and sticking to my leg. My desk chair was certainly not made to support someone with one leg up on their desk and the other foot on the floor. I'm pretty sure any clients who walk in the door wouldn't have much to say to me with my bare foot in their face. I suppose some tools should be used in private.

pretty bubble wrap courtesy of the Guardian

The origins of bubble wrap - wallpaper?

crafty me

All I want to do lately is spend my time crafting pretty little things, pasting and gluing paper and ribbons, and hunting for inspiration. A little voice cries: Create! Create!

It makes for boring stories, steeped in my own little world as I am.

I'd tell you all about it, and describe hand making invitations, cutting pretty paper and inserting specially cut pieces into the envelopes, but there's no way it's as fun to read about as it is to do!

When someone asked me recently what my hobbies were, I actually said gardening and cooking, and couldn't think of anything else. Can I actually add crafting? It sounds lame.

"I like crafting."

"Oh, yeah? What do you craft?"

"All sorts of stuff."

"Like what?"

"Um... cards. Invitations. Jewelry hangers. Stuff like that."

"Oh. Cool."

It's these in-between bits of season that confuse me. In the winter I might say: camping, skiing, reading, travel (if this is a hobby I'm sticking with it). In the summer I might say camping, hiking, swimming (well, not so much around Seattle), picking blackberries (again: hobby?).

I guess I think of hobbies as active activities, not just stuff I do to pass the time (and enjoy it).

And that's when I looked up Hobby: "A hobby is an activity or interest that is undertaken for pleasure, typically done during one's leisure time."

Which makes me pretty happy, actually. Who cares what people think about your hobbies! I'm going to add cleaning, tidying, organizing, planning parties, making multi-course dinners, taking walks with my Love, planning trips, meeting friends, painting my toenails, teaching Pup tricks, tasting wine, watching things grow, taking photos, designing dresses, dancing, looking at fashion photography, styling hair and makeup, sewing, mowing the lawn (I actually do like it), cuddling, and finally, riding on the back of a motorcycle through foreign countries with the one I love.

Projects are good for me. I like being crafty and passing my leisure time with pleasure.

Hobbies

photos courtesy of marthastewartweddings.com

fire and rain

After a very wet winter, spring seems to have come at last. Two straight days of sunshine, nearly 60 degrees (elated, I tell you!) and the world seems happy. But not the whole world.

There are a whole lotta folk out there right now, waiting for the Rapture. The End of Days. And it's supposed to happen on 21 May, or, if you haven't been looking at a calendar: the Day after Tomorrow. All this according to some guy who first thought it was going to happen in 1992, but then re-sorted the data and biblical evidence and found that with the new calculations, (and the extra 19 years to jot down a few notes and do some research): the new end is later than expected but really very soon.

Some people are making jokes about it. Others are freaking out. I'm pondering the idea, and thinking back to Y2K, and that not-so-fateful New Year's Eve count down. Remember when we thought all technology was going to crash and civilization would fall because of some 1's and 0's!? I bought a few gallons of water and extra candles. A little part of me was sad that we didn't get to camp out at home for a few days as things got situated.

And here we are. From what I've seen, there is always someone expecting the end of the world, and there always has been. It's like the study they did with high schoolers where something like 97% of those studied (I honestly have no recollection of the actual percentage, but remember it being incredibly high) admitted that they thought they'd die before high school ended (the cause being mostly that they could not conceive of a life in a world that did not involve school and living at home). Scary.

I'm going to continue to believe in mystery and all of its wonders. I don't know what the day after tomorrow will bring, but if it's anything like last Saturday, I'll be digging in my garden and enjoying the sweet scent of soil and the sound of buzzing bees.

Just for fun, here's a blog from December 2008 talking about another anticipated End of Days - January 19, 2009. (This is where I got the nuclear fire ball photo, too.)

bears - because we all need something cute to distract us from apocalyptic concerns

worried blinking baby - you know it's bad when babies are worried

pup show

This is a photo of Pup (not his actual name) doing his Praying Mantis. It is a sign of contentment, he likes to have his belly rubbed.

On a walk yesterday with Pup, I started discussing with him (a very one-sided conversation, but he seemed to be listening) all of the things I look forward to as time goes by. Specifically, all the life-with-a-dog things that would be nice if they ever came to be. I'm not sure if he really heard what I was saying, or really took it in and mulled it over. I can only hope.

In case you were curious, (and even if you weren't) this is the list of things I'd like:

1. To walk side by side, with no pulling on the leash or darting off to the side to pee on a bush (go ahead and pee, just don't lurch wildly while you're at it!). He's getting better, but experimenting with leaning against my knee as we walk. It's a power play thing, I hope I'm winning.

2. The quick and absolute end to eating poop. I realize it's pretty rare, and it's usually the neighbor's cat treats, but it's gross and you should stop doing that.

3. No more retching in the wee hours of the morning on the carpet. This doesn't happen often, either, but it's really an awful way to wake up (for me, as well as you). I understand this will happen from time to time, but perhaps you could make your way to the kitchen or the bathroom instead? It would be much easier to clean.

4. No more chasing, attacking, biting, or pouncing on or toward cats, ducks, or anything else. It's starting to get a bit weird. Some days you're fine. I'd like to know that every day you'll be fine.

5. And finally, an end to nose-diving into people's crotches. It makes everyone uncomfortable, nobody likes it, and it makes you seem as if you have no manners at all.

I could probably double the size of the list, but these are a good start. Let's go from here and see what happens.

in silk

Aside from the strange "crystal wheat stalk accent" that reminds me of a wire coat hanger I once spotted under my car in a parking lot, I am in love with this dress. Monique Lhuillier (a graduate from my alma mater, no less) is an amazing designer, her creations dreamy visions of the modern bride. She incorporates classic style lines, adding whimsical features and layering lace and tulle into what I can only describe as loveliness.

The price points for M.L. bridal dresses range from pretty darn reasonable to wow-I'll-certainly-never-have-one-of-those. Inevitably the ones that catch my eye are the latter. No matter, I can dream and drool and in the meantime float a little as I scroll through her collections. Visit her website for your very own taste of heaven, but don't say I didn't warn you.

photo courtesy of monique lhuillier

circus dreaming

I have three events I'm part of planning, and every little detail is a thrill. From the invitations, to the signature drink, from light shows to music, and even a girl in a bubble, floating on a pool. I love the brainstorm, the tornado of ideas that once you open the floodgates, can sweep you away in dreams of the wildest kind.

Of course after imagining a circus tent with all the side shows and the ringmaster, the flying trapeze, the monkeys, contortionists, flame throwers, and elephants, the end result is often an ambient big top, lights and music, flaming drinks and snake ladies. Which I'm perfectly happy with, as long as I get to dream it first.

Giselle cards

joshua joy ticket

hagenbeck wallace ticket

Venetian Circus Girl (doll)

circus

Themes abound lately, inspiration everywhere. I am part of planning three separate events, and it's getting very exciting. Here are a few pieces of inspiration (out of hundreds) for one of them. It has sent my little brain into tizzies from the thrill of it all. Planning lighting, food, drinks, and creating ambiance: yes, please! I love it. I get excited about even the tiniest details.

Until each event is over, I'll be thrilling about what, when, where, and who. I'll be tinkering around in my head about which piece of decor will go where, how to set the glasses and where to place the guest of honor. It may or may not include a monkey, a contortionist, mimes, and a floating sphere with a lady inside, dancing.

Giselle Popcorn Bags at Blush!nk

Hagenbeck Wallace ticket
Joshua Joy ticket

bubbling

My hands are itching to make, create, plant, sew, clean, smooth, organize, and redecorate. With spring finally bringing a little sunlight and warmth (gasp! it's 60F!) all the little nerve endings in me are bubbling with excitement at all of the promise of Things To Do.

First and foremost: vacuum the living room. We've pretty much reached maximum capacity for Pup hair, and I'm pretty sure I might go a little crazy/ier if the situation isn't resolved. And yes, I do realize that vacuuming is just an everyday thing and not a "just in the spring" thing.

Next on the list: build a planter box (big, but not too big, baby steps are good) and plant herbs and other edibles. Then, spend the rest of the spring and summer tending to them and exclaiming (on possibly a daily basis) how quickly they're growing, how green they are, and oh-my-goodness: is that a bud!?!

And finally: paint some more. And more. There are still far too many walls carrying the sad colors of the before-people. It's best to do it when you can open the door and let the fumes out. Otherwise, you and Pup may start acting a little silly as brain cells gasp and die.

As I plot and plan, all the while I am thinking, "If I could wear a vintage apron, twist my hair in a grand knot (like in Anne of Green Gables), and sip sweet tea in between: even better."

photos courtesy of twig and thistle

isn't it funny

I have been reminiscing on life, people, past, and past people.

Somewhere in the world doing their Monday things are all of the people I have come across over the 33 1/2 years I have lived. I remember many, and keep in touch with a precious few. I love the ways I've been altered by those just passing through, these tidbits of knowledge gained (though we never spoke again). Sometimes that's all you need: one friendly interaction and a life is changed. Or you are changed, in some small way.

It's funny to think of all the people I no longer know, or knew well (if only for a while)...

We are all dancing along in our little worlds, doing our little this's and thats.

I poke around in my memory, clearing the fuzz away and pulling out memories.

little things poster

flower heaven

I want to run, leap, fly, or jump into this bouquet! I love it's softness and loveliness. It reminds me of a painting (in color, only) that I had hanging on my wall growing up. Another world of pretty skirts, a beautifully laid table (whites and silvers with pale blues), sun beaming through wide windows and summer outside.

If it were fabric I'd make it into a dress, it's colors splashing against one another and long silky layers fluttering and billowing. I'd walk through wild gardens, letting the breeze push me wherever it may.

photo courtesy martha stewart

prey

The circle of life makes me a little bitter sometimes.

I'm all for the Law of Nature and the best and brightest of the species surviving, but I have a difficult time standing by while some adorable little creature is being hunted by a big ugly one.

I actually pulled the car over to try and intervene as a giant crow (no bigger than your everyday crow) ruthlessly stalked a baby squirrel. An adorable baby squirrel. I've heard squirrels called rats with fluffy tails, but I rather like them squirreling about and they are particularly cute when they're tiny.

So, with no particular plan in mind I actually hopped out of the car and shouted and waved and clapped in the general direction of the nasty crow, which of course scared the crap out of the squirrel, and he just sat there trying to disappear into the woodwork of a nearby telephone pole.

The crow hardly noticed me except to acknowledge that I was irritating, and flew up onto a telephone wire waiting for me to leave. I realized that it was futile, and interrupting the nature of things can go badly for people (have you seen video of that lady and the bear?!). I drove away hoping the crow would head off, and that the tiny adorable squirrel would find somewhere safe and secure to hide.

Afterward I decided I will continue to carefully rescue earthworms from the sidewalk and carry spiders outside but I think my squirrel-saving days are over.

squirrel photo courtesy of my cute animals

crow photo courtesy of fat finch

just don't

It's always best to look both ways, double check, and then look again.

Which I did.

I did not, however, see the police officer walking (fast like the wind?!) right behind my vehicle and into the street. Luckily, I saw him, and had already stopped. Can I just add that backing up out of a driveway with a huge light pole and a wide pedestrian walkway is tricky?

Unfortunately: he wasn't too nice about it, gave me a "I'm a police officer, tiny worm-slug" look and said, "Be careful."

Fortunately: no ticket. I'm not sure what the ticket would have been for, but something in his look told me he could have come up with something.

*sigh*

I find it a little bit funny that I was actually mad at him for a minute. What the...!? Where did you come from?! I'm thinking my fear of crushing a man with my car may not have outweighed his fear of being crushed by a car.

fat content

I held my breath as I returned to the refrigerator to double check that I hadn't gone momentarily insane. I took out the "Light" Italian Dressing (it's delicious, made by Newman's Own) and there it was: The Label with its list of ingredients and calories.

I was right, and it was shocking: 60 calories per serving (2 tablespoons per serving), 50 from fat. I looked back at the small container of full-fat sour cream in my hand: 60 calories per serving (2 tablespoons per serving), 60 from fat.*

Without hesitation I plopped a healthy tablespoon of sour cream onto my baked potato and said quietly to myself, "well, hell."

*Sour cream can easily be replaced by plain yogurt in many recipes. I now prefer yogurt on my enchiladas, and it is delicious on top of fresh fruit with ground flax seeds on top. This option obviously had no affect on my choice of baked potato toppings.

yogurt photo courtesy of good guide

sour cream photo courtesy of 110 pounds

my revolution

There's nothing that gets me as riled up as the blatant waste of natural resources. Well, I really get upset about war, genocide (and in general all crimes against humanity), racism, and cruelty to animals, too, but that's not what's got me going today.

I have an eyelash curler that I love. I found it when I typed "best eyelash curler" into my search engine. It's wonderful. It fits comfortably into my hand, it feels ergonomically correct (like I'd know) and the rubber bit is nice and hardy. The maker is Shu Uemura, and their products are not cheap. Fine, I splurged; I love the results and want to use it forever.

And here's where I get mad: you cannot replace just the rubber bit after it wears down (about six months with daily use). You MUST replace the entire curler to receive the two new bits that will get you through the next year. My tail feathers are pissed.

I absolutely refuse to toss out the entire curler just to replace the stupid tiny piece of rubber that I need to replace because it won't work without it (it literally starts to rip out eyelashes and/or curl them in random and ridiculous directions).

So here's what I want to do: create a line of rubber bits for all of the fancy eyelash curlers out there that don't offer refills. I'll charge $5 a piece, and people like me will be thrilled to have at least one more thing they don't have to throw out because of some stupid company who doesn't care about wasting and being wasteful.

I'm starting a revolution. It's about standing up for your right to use something you bought for more than one stinking year, and show you care. About my eyelashes.