waiting for a little life

Spring is something else, eh?  We wait and wait and wait for the teeniest bit of green to lift our spirits from the bitterness of winter and when it comes, we say, "I can't believe it!  It's finally here!" and yet we knew it would be here sometime.  Part of what makes these signs of life so exciting is that we KNOW it's coming; we think about how wonderful it will be, how it will smell, and how it will make us feel when we wake up each day knowing the goodness of life is all around.

Our house is showing signs of life, too. 

Even though outside snow may come and cover up peeking tulip/lily/iris bulbs that prompted some landscaping daydreaming this week, inside things are growing.  A plant survived a winter with me.  Not only did it survive, it's BLOOMING!  It's a Spring miracle, I tell you!  Mom better read this because she will be very proud that a plant in her daughter's care has finally stayed alive.  I don't even know the name of this gem but I plan on getting at least five more this summer to fill my house to make visitors think I have a magical green thumb.


The Seedling Adventure has also begun.  The first chapter goes something like this:

       ....she carefully placed each seed in their respective nook, gently covered them with precisely mixed soil, gave them a blessing, and waited for the sun and water to do its work.  Sometime during the night, the cat, who was irked there was neither catnip nor cat grass planted, decided to take matters into her own paws.  The gardener woke up, cursed the cat, and the romantic dream of planting and nurturing seedlings until they bore fruit, died.

So, yeah, we'll see how it goes.  So far the onions are going crazy.  I think onions might be one of those invasive species you have to gather and light on fire if you don't want it to spread.

The other thing that is growing in our house is a SCOBY for making Kombucha.  It's a big glob of bacteria and yeast that eats tea and sugar and somehow balances your intestinal flora.  Kombucha and I so far have a love love, hate hate hate relationship.  I loved it, carefully prepared it, waited 3 weeks (quite impatiently) for it to reach the right pH, only to find out it had mold!  You would think something as gross as a SCOBY could tackle some mold, but it couldn't.  Dumping out 3 weeks' worth of fermenting tea, I felt defeated.  This batch is going much better, and I'm being much more patient.  In fact, this photo was the only time I've uncovered it to look at the disgustingly beautiful alien being. 

Waiting around for life (and sometimes being disappointed) has been a bit of a roller coaster.  But I'm still waking up, hopeful. 

Blogbattical: a year without blogging

Sometimes we need to break away from things because they are unhealthy, sometimes because of time constraints, sometimes for reasons we don't know.  The last year required me to take a break from the reflection that blogging offered.  I would only later come to understand why.  The break freed up time (as sabbaticals often do) and I wish I could say I used my time to write a book (or at least read a bunch of them), knit a grown-up sweater, or sew something really difficult.  Yeah, well, none of those things happened.  I just got older.

I used to think I would accept age humbly and joyfully.  What a load of crap.  This year I found (TWO!) gray hairs and didn't get carded buying wine at the liquor store.  I cannot stay up past 10pm without pacing around the house groaning, "it's so laaaate!"  This winter, I begged Matt to grow a beard so he would look older (and not like a kid I was babysitting).  I now enjoy and PREFER to stay home on Friday night.

Despite my aging crisis, the year did not pass without gain and triumph.  In that extra time, I did some stuff  I'm quite proud of.  I finished all but 2 credits towards my Masters and started my research project.  A 9 month old was entrusted to me each weekday for half of the year.  I ran a marathon.  I rode a horse into the mountains and then climbed the mountain.  A teenager showed up, needing our love, time, and home cooking.  I started teaching again.  We found a church.  I found the perfect pizza crust recipe.  I finally learned how to tame my (graying) hair.   
   

The year was not a total loss. 

But I'm back to the familiar 'click click click' that puts ME out there to YOU, whoever, wherever you are.  My blogbatical is over.  The trees are aching to show us that they are alive, and I'm aching to let go of things I should have done and open up to the possibility that this year, too, will age and better me.

I'll always be younger than you...but not necessarily cooler...

To my dearest brother, Matt who turns 37 today:

For your birthday, I'd like to sing you a song because you showed me how to have performance composure and how to really enjoy dancing and singing while wearing sequins.  Thank you for sharing with me your musical gifts; one of my favorite memories of you is watching you sing in your bedroom to the Beach Boys (or was it Huey Lewis and the News?) sporting your neon green sunglasses.  I thought you were sooooo cool.  In fact, I thought you were so cool that I wanted to do everything like you, including playing the trombone.  It's even documented in a 6th grade video that this was my main reason for picking the trombone.

Your present this year is SmartWool athletic socks to help your icky sweaty feet when you run.  I know they get gross because we have the exact same feet DNA.  I promise these socks will change your life, just like basketball changed mine.  You showed me how to really play hard and love the game.  It took me awhile to get off of the gymnastics bandwagon and I wouldn't have done it without your awesome defense and rad looking basketball jersey.  I loved listening to Dad yell during the games and talk (yell?) with you afterward.  I learned a lot.

My google calendar just popped up a reminder that it's your birthday.  Remember when I forgot?  You thought I was mad at you.  I felt like the worst sister in the world so I sent you twice the presents.  You've never forgotten mine and always call with a "Heeeeey, Happy Birthday.  Did you get some cake?"  In fact, if I were to tally all of the phone calls I've ever received, EVER, you would be on the top of the list for sure.  (Don't tell Mom she's not on the top...)  When I went to college, you called to check up on me all the time.  I might have acted like I was too busy for you, but felt really really loved when you called.  So, sorry and Thank You. 

I have so enjoyed watching you with your family.  You are a great husband and father and your kids love the snot out of you.  I saw you come home after work one day when Zachary was a little guy.  You kissed Zachary on the head and your smile was so familiar.  I figured it was the same smile that Dad had when he got home from work. 

You are such a cool brother; you always watch for the best electronics deals making you an awesome resource, you are not above the go-karts and arcade games (and you don't even make fun of how much I suck at the driving games), you play tanks with my husband until 3am (you set high goals for yourself), you text me silly stuff (like a picture of your toilet bowl containing poo and one of your childrens' toys) which makes my day, and you still call me a lot to check up (and it still makes me feel really really loved). 

So Happy Birthday big brother.  Wish I could be there to sing you a song, give you a hug, and eat your cake.

Love you!

 

A Special Guy who loved red

Today is the day that my greatly loved Dad passed away, 13 years ago.  I can't believe that he's been gone almost as long as I knew him.  But like my mom said today, memories can keep people alive in us.  The recent recurring memory that has waltzed into my thoughts (Dad taught me how to waltz, sort of) is an 'after dinner' memory....the scent of garlic still lingers in the air from another delicious experiment for dinner and Dad is standing over the stove meticulously scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing.  It's funny that THIS is what I remember because I really hate cleaning, especially tasks like the stove.  Ugh.  It is comforting to know I'm not the only one who has ever had to do it.

I often remember getting tucked in at night, after I was really "too old" to be tucked in.  He would slowly walk up the stairs and pause in my doorway.  He probably thought I was asleep but maybe he knew I was up and about until I saw the hallway light switch on and then scrambled into bed.

He watched all of my performances with great attention and being a head taller than most in the audience, I could always find his face when I needed an encouraging smile.  He nicknamed all of my friends according to something silly they had done; Flowergirl (for parking her bike in Mom's flowers), Crash (for crashing into the tree whilst tree swinging), Smurfette and Squirrel (?)...you get the picture.

I love hugs and kisses, just like him.  He gave to me his love of travel and his curiosity about the world.  I get really angry during sporting events and that is certainly not from my mother.  He was proud, loving, a teeny bit stubborn, and really really great to be around.  And the man just loved red!  And we (still) love him. 

 

A little punk rock for a little Rock Star

Little Emily's 6th birthday is approaching and finding a gift for the only girl kid in our family is so much fun.  She is really unique, blending the best of spunky, sweet, and sometimes a little shy.  (Oh, and I forgot smart and super-fast....she is both of those things too!)  A lover of creating masterpieces, singing, and giggling, Emily is easily the cutest, neatest, bestest niece in the world.  (Aunt Merry is not the bestest at grammer, but please bear with her...)

So, for such a special chica, I decided to try and tackle a special crafted gift (sewn actually...GASP!) from one of my most loved t-shirts from Korea, mostly because it is PINK and has HEARTS.  Duh.  We totally love pink and hearts.  I was inspired by this and this both from Kojo Designs blog and came up with this:

!!!

  
A skirt with pink, hearts, AND a matching mini-bag.  You know, for her phone, guitar picks, markers, barrettes, whatever.  I can just imagine her rocking out in this skirt on her Hannah Montana guitar with some cool tights and her wrist-warmers from Christmas.  And maybe a Dora pj top.  The kid has her own style and I'm proud to be her Aunt.

 

Can't wait to make her more stuff.  I love this kid.

Old Beginnings

After 17 years of being on the receiving side of education, I switched sides and got to run my own classroom for awhile.  Now I'm back to where it all started.  A jittery, overplanned teacher's pet is about to leave for her first day of school, again.  It seems pretty silly because I've taken science graduate classes (20 credits worth, actually!) but this is different.  Most of my classmates and my professor will NOT be of the science nerd variety.  I have a hard time relating to people who want to teach the Other subjects.  Instead of being fairly cool in a room full of geeks, I get to be the geek in a room full of normal people.  I think it just boils down to a basic fear of being accepted.  Growing up is still hard.  

When I was growing up, mom always made us take a "first day of school" picture.  In the spirit of first day traditions (including a nervous stomach and maybe even a few tears) here I am, ready to go.  I hope I have enough pencils and highlighters.  

 

Part Lumberjack, Part Caveman

In loving honor of my new husband, this post is all about Matt and what he loves.  Before you read the following statements, be sure to practice saying the word "love" with much emphasis on the "uh" part.  And then a big pause after the noun/verb while you contemplate just how much you "louuuuhve" the said noun/verb.  Because that is how Matt says it.

Matt:
I love food.

I love fire.
 
I love this pan.

Me:  Do you love chopping wood?
Matt:  YESSSSS.  I love Cutting AND Chopping.

And finally, last night, the statement that stole my Wisconsin heart:

I love cheese.

Of course you do dear, because you love all foods minus melons and coleslaw and that one thing you told me yesterday at the grocery store that I can't remember.  And to think that I get on your case for forgetting stuff!

Since half of his list involves fire and wood, it's only fitting for a little glimpse into our bedroom lately...

 

....because it's really cold and our house is really drafty, our bedroom is now the living room!  Matt gets up every few hours to grab the wood that he chopped and throw it into the fire he crafted.  I'm enjoying the warmth and Mia is enjoying the free snuggles.  Matt is just enjoying all of it, because he loves so much, which is one reason we louuuuuuhve him so much!