I logged on and discovered the last time I posted was July 15. I was sure it had been longer than that. It felt like months ago the last time I posted. Years maybe.
It's been two months.
I didn't post anything in August. That's the first time in two and a half years I missed a month.
I didn't purposefully post something at least once a month for two and a half years. I got lucky.
My luck ended.
It seems like I've been everywhere in the past two months.
I did a little math because I like math. I've been in town for 40% of July and August and out of town for 60% of July and August.
I'm tired. I'm also an efficient packer.
I'm leaving again on Saturday. I'll be gone for just about four weeks. I expect you won't be hearing from me in that time.
The high is usually between 15 and 20 degrees cooler in New York than here at home. I'm contemplating taking three different pairs of boots, which feels excessive. Church boots, every day boots, get me to the gym and back boots. Thank goodness, I won't be needing snow boots.
I went to the 100th annual Meskwaki powwow. Ma did her first ever 5k. I walked it with her. We got Meskwaki swag. She thinks she might try running next year.
We went to church the Sunday we were in Iowa for the powwow. The people were very friendly. One lady asked me who I was and what I was doing there (passing through or moving in?). She asked me who my grandmother was because she apparently knew some of the Meskwaki people. "Oh, of course. I knew your grandmother!" Sure you did, lady. "She went to study at BYU, didn't she?" Huh, maybe you did know her. "She had a couple of sisters," Okay, but a lot of people had sisters. "She had the prettiest handwriting. So precise. Like a machine." A random lady in a random town in a random church used to know my grandmother. Weird.
Ma and I ran away together and saw two Tuacahn plays. The rest of the time we laid in bed and read books. It was glorious.
Ma recently drove to Oregon with Pa for a wedding. On the way home they stopped by an orchard. She brought home eight varieties of apples for me to try. Eight. That's love.
I'm obsessed with apples. It's unhealthy. Or very healthy, depending on your perspective.
Ma also brought home four varieties of pears. I love me some pears.
The day after I got home from New York, I helped throw a crazy birthday barbeque that kept getting bigger and harder to put together. I was grumpy.
This past week is the first time I've not been fighting grumpiness for a long time. It's also the first time I've been home with no extra visitors for more than four days.
I'm not naturally a grumpy person. Just when I'm around people. And since the world is full of people, I seem to be a naturally grumpy person.
If I were a hermit, I would not seem like a naturally grumpy person.
It's still too hot to go running after work so I've been rocking the treadmill runs. I haven't run much since spring. I was sure the treadmill would kill me but it didn't. I've never run so fast and strong on a treadmill before. I still get bored out of my mind, but at least it's not hard.
In the last month, half a dozen people at least have mentioned how short my hair is still. For the first time in a year, it finally has some length to it.
I did not sew my swimming suit. That project has been shelved until March.
I haven't done any other sewing either.
Really, I haven't done much of anything. Yet, I have been so busy. How is that possible?
I made time for chia seed pudding. It's been on my list for months. It was gross. I don't care what they say. The Aztecs can keep their chia seeds. I'm sticking to my real, fatty-milk based pudding.
The Little Sister thought she didn't like green smoothies. Then she had one of my green smoothies. I made about two dozen smoothie bags for her freezer. She's going to have a baby soon and can't get her life together enough to make herself some food. So. Big.
Her little one loves them. He's been rocking the green-smudged, sticky mouth lately. Babies will eat spinach when it tastes like strawberries. I've got proof.
When I try to follow a green smoothie formula (google it) they turn out gross. I stopped trying.
I read the entire Harry Potter series in about a month. It made me happy.
Clearly, I have not been following my reading plan.
I'm going to write a post about the books I read during the summer. Maybe in October.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
I fly home on Friday.
For perhaps the first time I am beginning to understand the mystique around the word Friday. Just saying it is enough to make my heart flutter, my mind less cluttered, my feet lighter. Like a charm or a spell, it pulls my mind irresistibly toward the future.
Friday.
In just a few days I will be home again. In just a few days I will belong to myself again.
I've developed some unsavory habits.
Most nights I don't make it to bed until 10:30 or 11:00. Each night as we prepare for bed I tell Ma that tomorrow is the day that we will be in bed by nine. I say it again when we're up by 6:00, wakened by the screaming of morning children. And still, we don't make it to bed until 11:00.
I've begun eating like a desperate person. I don't taste my food. I don't savor my food. I grab what is easy and stuff it in my mouth, bite after bite after bite, waiting for a small head to walk around the corner of the table. What will it demand I do for it? Eat. Eat quickly. Eat now. It is your only hope. I've developed a black raspberry and marshmallow shake habit. An almost every day sort of habit. I assume my body is attempting to make up for the missed calories. Pump them in! The straw, use the straw, it's faster!
(I do not regret the nearly every day shake habit. Only my desperate way of eating everything including my nearly every day shake.)
I brought two computers with me:
My work computer is out almost all the days. Work, work, work. My personal computer is out none of the days. No writing. None at all.
Soon, I will be able to sleep like me again. I will be able to eat like me again. I will be able to write like me again.
One thing I know with a certainty born of a three-child experience: I will do everything I can to ensure I am never a working mom. There is not enough patience, not enough kindness, not enough laughter, not enough time for exploring and learning and loving, not enough adventure.
Friday.
Friday.
In just a few days I will be home again. In just a few days I will belong to myself again.
I've developed some unsavory habits.
Most nights I don't make it to bed until 10:30 or 11:00. Each night as we prepare for bed I tell Ma that tomorrow is the day that we will be in bed by nine. I say it again when we're up by 6:00, wakened by the screaming of morning children. And still, we don't make it to bed until 11:00.
I've begun eating like a desperate person. I don't taste my food. I don't savor my food. I grab what is easy and stuff it in my mouth, bite after bite after bite, waiting for a small head to walk around the corner of the table. What will it demand I do for it? Eat. Eat quickly. Eat now. It is your only hope. I've developed a black raspberry and marshmallow shake habit. An almost every day sort of habit. I assume my body is attempting to make up for the missed calories. Pump them in! The straw, use the straw, it's faster!
(I do not regret the nearly every day shake habit. Only my desperate way of eating everything including my nearly every day shake.)
I brought two computers with me:
- a work computer - for working
- a personal computer - for writing
My work computer is out almost all the days. Work, work, work. My personal computer is out none of the days. No writing. None at all.
Soon, I will be able to sleep like me again. I will be able to eat like me again. I will be able to write like me again.
One thing I know with a certainty born of a three-child experience: I will do everything I can to ensure I am never a working mom. There is not enough patience, not enough kindness, not enough laughter, not enough time for exploring and learning and loving, not enough adventure.
Friday.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
A New York Adventure
I've been in upstate New York for two and a half weeks.
I'm going to be here one week more.
I've learned a lot while being here.
Things like, I can drive a minivan like a champ. Or rather, like a soccer mom.
And I can get a tantrum throwing child out of the closet with laughs and smiles.
And I can make a pouty child throw a full-blown, crying in the bathroom for 20 minutes tantrum with barely a word.
And I still try to hard to make things happen for other people when they tell me they are important even though they don't act like they are important which means they probably aren't that important.
But mostly what I've learned is that life is crazy and unexpected in both good ways and bad and if I try too hard to hold onto it I'll miss all the good parts and most of the bad and I'll give myself a blazing headache.
I'm going to be here one week more.
I've learned a lot while being here.
Things like, I can drive a minivan like a champ. Or rather, like a soccer mom.
And I can get a tantrum throwing child out of the closet with laughs and smiles.
And I can make a pouty child throw a full-blown, crying in the bathroom for 20 minutes tantrum with barely a word.
And I still try to hard to make things happen for other people when they tell me they are important even though they don't act like they are important which means they probably aren't that important.
But mostly what I've learned is that life is crazy and unexpected in both good ways and bad and if I try too hard to hold onto it I'll miss all the good parts and most of the bad and I'll give myself a blazing headache.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Betrayed by the Library
The other day I was wandering about the library.
My library employs several shelves for the express purpose of displaying books. These shelves are meant to tantalize you and also to show the incredibly large selection of reading material the library offers on every subject.
I was browsing one of these shelves, wishing I had the time to read the book on cooking with onions, the history of women's footwear, and the book about hiking with small children (do I have small children? no, I do not). I stood in front of that shelf dreaming of having the time to read those books but remembering the two and a half shelves of books in my room waiting to be read and my goodreads to-read list stuffed full and the list I keep in my head of books I'd like to pick up when I've got a little extra time.
I realized that I will never be able to read all the books I want to. And then I felt terribly betrayed.
I've always known there would never be enough time for all the things I wish there were time for. I will never be a master carpenter, a master cook, a master seamstress, a master musician, and a master of everything else that I've taken a fancy to over the years. I don't have the time to even have a small sort of skill in all these areas.
In the same way I knew I'd never be able to read all the books I'd like to.
Knowing is not the same as believing.
Standing in front of that shelf I finally understood what I thought I already knew. My library promises me everything but everything is not a true possibility.
Simply put, I cannot do it. For the first time in my life ever, I knew beyond a doubt that even if I poured all my energies and attention into a single purpose, I could not possibly succeed.
The betrayal I felt was not bitter. Just very sad.
My library employs several shelves for the express purpose of displaying books. These shelves are meant to tantalize you and also to show the incredibly large selection of reading material the library offers on every subject.
I was browsing one of these shelves, wishing I had the time to read the book on cooking with onions, the history of women's footwear, and the book about hiking with small children (do I have small children? no, I do not). I stood in front of that shelf dreaming of having the time to read those books but remembering the two and a half shelves of books in my room waiting to be read and my goodreads to-read list stuffed full and the list I keep in my head of books I'd like to pick up when I've got a little extra time.
I realized that I will never be able to read all the books I want to. And then I felt terribly betrayed.
I've always known there would never be enough time for all the things I wish there were time for. I will never be a master carpenter, a master cook, a master seamstress, a master musician, and a master of everything else that I've taken a fancy to over the years. I don't have the time to even have a small sort of skill in all these areas.
In the same way I knew I'd never be able to read all the books I'd like to.
Knowing is not the same as believing.
Standing in front of that shelf I finally understood what I thought I already knew. My library promises me everything but everything is not a true possibility.
Simply put, I cannot do it. For the first time in my life ever, I knew beyond a doubt that even if I poured all my energies and attention into a single purpose, I could not possibly succeed.
The betrayal I felt was not bitter. Just very sad.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Summer Bucket List
I've been thinking more about the idea of a summer bucket list. I'm still not ready to commit to one. Particularly since I will spend a large portion of this summer in upstate New York.
But, if I were to have a summer bucket list, it would look something like list:
But, if I were to have a summer bucket list, it would look something like list:
- pack the perfect picnic
- become a whiz at whipping up delicious, homemade popsicles
- never, ever let the freezer be empty of homemade, delicious popsicles
- make my own swimsuit
- make two more
- spend as much time as possible up the canyon
- read outside in the sunshine every day
- hang out at the pool with a niece or nephew at least once a week
- put a strip of summer fun color in my hair
- make a funfetti layer cake from scratch with lots of sprinkles on top
- eat the cake
- grill watermelon
Thursday, June 5, 2014
May Books
I'm going to make this quick because I'm behind by five days. How embarrassing.
I had a poor showing this month. I've been concentrating on other things. Even so, according to Goodreads I'm three books ahead of schedule for my yearly goal. Yes, I'm awesome.
The Forgotten Man was my favorite. I am not a fan of Roosevelt and someone needs to rewrite the history books to show an accurate portrayal of how he affected the depression, both positive and negative. Rita Dove's poetry was beautiful but a little beyond me. I think I need more practice reading poetry. (Any suggestions on where to start? I'm a little lost with poetry.) A World Without Princes was unexpected and well done, I thought. I like the symmetry of the endings between the first book and the second book. I intend to purchase Yoga for Runners and I loved A Breast Cancer Alphabet.
I counted up the books I have left to read on my shelf the other day. First, I organized them by type based on my current reading strategy (five books a month from five different categories with the extra book club book each month). I have enough classics to last me a year, enough fiction to last me more than a year, about half a year's worth of both children's fiction and nonfiction and three or four month's worth of history or biography.
The only book from my shelf in May was The Forgotten Man. My nonfiction and book club books for June will come from the library. I hope to pick the other four from my shelf. Which sounds hopelessly boring and not summer fun at all.
I had a poor showing this month. I've been concentrating on other things. Even so, according to Goodreads I'm three books ahead of schedule for my yearly goal. Yes, I'm awesome.
- The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression by Amity Shlaes
- A World Without Princes by Soman Chainani
- A Breast Cancer Alphabet by Madhulika Sikka
- Selected Poems by Rita Dove
- Yoga for Runners by Christine Felstead
The Forgotten Man was my favorite. I am not a fan of Roosevelt and someone needs to rewrite the history books to show an accurate portrayal of how he affected the depression, both positive and negative. Rita Dove's poetry was beautiful but a little beyond me. I think I need more practice reading poetry. (Any suggestions on where to start? I'm a little lost with poetry.) A World Without Princes was unexpected and well done, I thought. I like the symmetry of the endings between the first book and the second book. I intend to purchase Yoga for Runners and I loved A Breast Cancer Alphabet.
I counted up the books I have left to read on my shelf the other day. First, I organized them by type based on my current reading strategy (five books a month from five different categories with the extra book club book each month). I have enough classics to last me a year, enough fiction to last me more than a year, about half a year's worth of both children's fiction and nonfiction and three or four month's worth of history or biography.
The only book from my shelf in May was The Forgotten Man. My nonfiction and book club books for June will come from the library. I hope to pick the other four from my shelf. Which sounds hopelessly boring and not summer fun at all.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Tyrant
Ma flew to New York this morning to help care for my sister-in-law as she recovers from her surgery. Ma will also be watching her three, adorable, New York dwelling grandkids. Lucky Ma.
With Ma gone, I'm in charge on the home front. Do you know what happens when I'm in charge on the home front? Stuff happens.
The Little Brother comes home in three weeks.
Ma comes home in two and a half weeks.
I forced my father to sign up for evernote this morning. Through text message. Like this: If you do not have evernote on your phone or iPad please add it so I can share with you.
(When I navigated to my sent message just now, I was pleasantly surprised to find I said please.)
I've been toggling all morning between work and evernote, creating lists for each room, adding things to do when I think of them or I get a text from Pa.
I also intend to create a calendar on a currently unoccupied whiteboard with all the days left between now and then. Each day will house a list of the things for use to do. If we get something done earlier than the day it was planned for, we can slot something else in it's place.
There is no end goal. We will do as much as we possibly can with the time that we have. We will not run out of things. Nor will I let either of us slack. There are things to be done and we must do them.
I'm basically a tyrant.
With Ma gone, I'm in charge on the home front. Do you know what happens when I'm in charge on the home front? Stuff happens.
The Little Brother comes home in three weeks.
Ma comes home in two and a half weeks.
I forced my father to sign up for evernote this morning. Through text message. Like this: If you do not have evernote on your phone or iPad please add it so I can share with you.
(When I navigated to my sent message just now, I was pleasantly surprised to find I said please.)
I've been toggling all morning between work and evernote, creating lists for each room, adding things to do when I think of them or I get a text from Pa.
I also intend to create a calendar on a currently unoccupied whiteboard with all the days left between now and then. Each day will house a list of the things for use to do. If we get something done earlier than the day it was planned for, we can slot something else in it's place.
There is no end goal. We will do as much as we possibly can with the time that we have. We will not run out of things. Nor will I let either of us slack. There are things to be done and we must do them.
I'm basically a tyrant.
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