Neighborhood Mosquitoes

My ears were assaulted one mid morning by a neighborhood weed-whacker; one of those high pitched mosquitoes on steroids.  I endured for an hour and then sent Phin to investigate how much longer the job was looking.  If they still had half a lawn to do, we would have to vacate the neighborhood.  He ran into the bathroom to get his hat and came out with the true culprit.  It was not a neighborhood weed-whacker disturbing my peace and threatening my sanity, but my own toothbrush run amok.  This battery operated device had spontaneously turned on and was giving the insides of my cupboard a good scrub.  I guess the battery was not as dead as I thought – though it was now definitely time to get a new toothbrush.  

What’s in a Name?

We no longer lose sleep debating the finer points of names such as Mincayani, Forest, Eliazar, Keppler, Tonystark, Moshe, Zander, and Qasim.  It is clear from this sampling why no consensus was reached in a list that has dropped to a slim 3% chance of utility.

Spoiler Alert

Like most children growing up, I heard about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the Stork.  My mom never really encouraged Santa Claus illusions; who can blame her for not wanting to share gift-giving credit with a portly old man, even one reported to be jolly.  The Easter Bunny always seemed ridiculous, although coloring eggs is still an activity I enjoy.  And the reliability of the Tooth Fairy called her existence into question early on in my tooth losing years.  But the Stork…  I’ve always been intrigued by the Stork, and some part of me wished this character was real.

Perhaps the reason I have never fully visualized myself as a mother is because the Stork story is so appealing, and yet I couldn’t fail to recognize the high improbability of this tale.  Though I couldn’t make sense out of the details, I was not willing to imagine any other process.  In the mean-time, I embraced my role as an Aunt with huge enjoyment and every so often scanned the skies for a large bird carrying a kerchief-wrapped baby. 

Alas… The last few months have shattered the small spark of hope I was holding out for the Stork.  My baby will not arrive via midnight airdrop; however, late this summer the Fisher Price toys may not be the only Little People in our house.

Calendar Time

This is my last year doing calendar pages, and sadly, it was also my latest year for getting them turned in.  My apologies to January for encroaching into your month:(  Because it was the last year, I did two months, so now my collection is a hand-crafted calendar page for each month of the year.  It has taken 11 years to create!  I present to you the latest - March and November:)  Let 2015 Begin!!!

 

 

November Musings

Somehow October got away from me.  Last year, I went on a healthy eating month to slow time down, and I think it might have to become a tradition.  It always seems at this time the year begins its sprint towards the end.  For once I would like him to be a little tired, perhaps take a nap like the Hare, and give me a chance to catch up.  I realize I am the tortoise in this analogy, which falls apart quickly because I don't have the patience, and I never do really win.  The crisp fall air has found me, and I am hoping soon to be inspired to create.  In the meantime, I love looking at these amazing creations:)

Flora Forager

Monday - Need I say More?

Just the tip of the iceberg.

Beautiful Hydration

Rumor has it that an average person is supposed to drink 8 glasses of water a day. Although I question if this exact number is based on scientific evidence, there is no doubt that my water intake is deplorable.  Although my love of beverages is well-known, water is definitely excluded even when using a fun curvy straw.  On a good week I get about 2 glasses and that is counting the water that slips in while bushing my teeth.

 

This summer while living the rough life at my favorite spa, I strangely could not stop drinking the water.  When I returned home, I was unsure if I had downed 4 glasses in one sitting due to the muddled cucumbers or the fact that I had just emerged from a eucalyptus steam.  It was time to conduct my own test.  Although no actual cooking was involved, this was by far my best kitchen experiment.  Seriously, the water is so tasty, and as an added bonus the jars look amazing in the refrigerator. Currently on the shelves there is strawberry (super yummy), cucumber (so refreshing), and lemon (greatly energizing).  I am drinking water and loving it!

"Free Wood"

I'm usually not one to sort through other people's stuff to find treasures in places like thrift stores, garage sales, or discards on the side of the road.  (It's not that I don't want to be economical, but the time it takes to find gems is more than my shopping-averse attention span can handle.)  However, I could not resist the “Free Wood” sign on the construction project a few houses down from mine.  Was it the plea to release something natural back into the wild that got my attention?  Perhaps it was the chance to use my Radio Flyer Wagon.  In any event, three full wagons later, my garage now has a pile of scrap wood.  The possibilities contained in this pile are as of yet unknown.  Sadly I don’t think anything will be rehabilitated into the forest, but it is nice to get something for my pains of listening to the torturous carpentry racket all summer.  Anyone want to build a tree-house? 

Oops!

While having an ice-cream dessert last night, I remembered that August is my usual month of sugar detox.  Conveniently I totally forgot about this "month of no sugar" until August 26th around 8:30pm.  An honest mistake, and I will just have to try to get on board next year:)

Couch Shopping

Mornings are not my friends.  Waking up usually involves multiple stages, and when I finally drag myself out of bed it is nice to flop semi-inclined in the living room.  From here the day can be engaged in whispered conversations until I'm alert enough to assume the true vertical.  Sadly, our lack of furniture has made a "Stage 2" area noticeably absent, and consequently Stage 1 (laying in bed) elongated while Stage 3 (active prep for the day) developed a grumpy attitude.  In an effort to remedy this, we went couch shopping.  We came back with a find under $10.00!!  Realistically it will not fill the void of a Stage 2 area, but catching a glimpse of these cuties has already improved the outlook in Stage 3.  As an added bonus, we are ready for balcony lounge company (the mini kind).

 
The search for a couch continues:)

Happy 4th of July!!!

It was disappointing not to partake in our first mallow war since becoming residents of this eccentric neighborhood, but the campaign to mallow out tickled my funny bones and eased the sadness.  On the bright side we got to see two amazing firework shows from the comfort of our own balcony, and the few grumbling peeps were quickly silenced into s'mores.  

Tea Break

Sitting in the window with a peek-a-boo view of the ocean

Sipping the most delicious chai, I remember brilliant friendships.

Is it the magic from the tea or the sweet jasmine air that makes

Memory roll to daydream as I wonder which neighboring house would best suit you?
Before I call to ask if I can borrow an avocado from your tempting tree,

The continual beeping of a nearby excavator reminds me of the reality.

I take a last sip and now… back to work!

Sunset in New House

I would like to announce that it is safe to be our friends once again - and we are open for new and renewed applications:)  We are in semi-permanent housing and do not see another move in our near future.  (You can see that I am still not speaking in absolutes.  There is a small chance that being our friend will involve moving garbage bags of our belongings at some point - but I think we are worth the risk...)

Fun at the DMV

The title may be a bit of a misnomer - but look what character came on my license plate!!!!! 

This letter has affected my life more than a mere member of the alphabet should - but when I see that squiggle tail I can understand basing major life decisions on keeping up a close connection.  It appears that I have finally edged out that pesky, but tenacious "U", and have this guy all to myself!  

Eyes Are Everywhere - Part 2

It took me a few days to find this fellow in my shower curtain.  Do you see him?

He acts as the shower bouncer, but happily has let me in each time.  If you take too long, his eyebrow raises and his hand appears on the shell hip.  I've looked for his clam cousins while walking on the beach, but they hide more effectively.

A Reunification Plan

Disclaimer:  Plan is not subject to this chart and may deviate at any moment!  It may be wishful thinking that all pathways lead to SD:)

Cherry Blossom Globe

I have been living life in a cherry blossom globe. 

The cottony flowers soften the menacing challenges

and send encouragement as ogres are faced.  

A few times the globe was shaken and petals fell, but in doing so created a beautiful swirl.  

We are not totally out of the woods, but they are subdued.  The sweet spring air surrounds and we can freely enjoy the cozy array of blossoms.

Now the time has come to depart from this flowery cocoon of restoration- I hear the jasmine calling from the other side of the country, and geraniums beckoning from their window boxes on the other side of the world.  But I will not forget my weeks here and will always treasure our time in the Cherry Blossom Globe.

Good-Bye Eaves Drop House

There is much that will be missed as we move our lives out of potato country.  True friends impacted our lives and we will treasure these relationships despite geographical differences.  A charming house made a delightful home, and the spider alarms definitely kept the elephants away.  (We will see if they accomplish this successfully in our new place.)  And so we bid Boise adieu and welcome all visitors to the beach where yurts may or may not be provided.


 

Showers of Blessing – A True Story

Prologue:  With over 200 days of sunshine, Phin originally moved to Boise to escape what he and others term, “the dreariness of Western Washington.”  I joined him a few years later and experienced desert-like conditions that made me parched in more ways than one.  Together we began a quest for a vibrant place to grow our emotional health, creativity, and most of all our spiritual life.  A few months ago we realized this place existed in community irrespective of location.  However, a move to a sunny coastal city had already been set in motion, and we prepared to leave our new-found, though life-long, friends.

 

As we began packing, the need to simplify our lives became clear.  It felt like an invitation to support our Boise friends was being extended, and while we were eager to accept, we wanted others to have the opportunity as well.  Thus for the last few weeks, we have been encouraged by people’s generosity as carloads of items have been collecting in our porch for the community garage sale.

The Story:  Monday forecasted a 30% chance of rain for our Saturday Garage Sale, and I was not concerned.  The group was praying for sunshine and it wouldn’t even need to be a large miracle for God to make it a sunny day.  By Friday, there was 100% chance of rain.  Text messages were flying back and forth – should we postpone? (Not really an option since the word had already gone out and our moving day was less than a week away)  Have it inside our house instead of the centrally located church parking lot? (This had some appeal – but would take a lot of last minute organization and there were concerns that no-one would show.) 

Believing God was in control and knew about our timing constraints, we decided to hold the garage sale as planned.  Tents and tarps were gathered by resourceful members, although deep down I expected a beautiful day that was sure to shock and stun.  Early Saturday morning, I was awoken to the steady drumming of raindrops.  Not to worry – the rain was getting it out of its system before the 10:00 sale.  Doubts did creep in when I looked out the window and saw the extent of the “system”.  There was not a cloud break in sight – just a dome with shades of gray and black that forecasted a gloomy, dismal day.   My next conversation with God went something like this:

               “I thought for sure You would answer my prayer for a beautiful day so this sale would be a blessing”

               “I am giving you a beautiful day!”  

This cut the dialogue short and made me laugh as I thought back to our previous conversations and wondered why the specific word, “sunny” had never come up.  Arriving at the church, I was greeted by a tent city and eager customers.  The next few hours are a blur as we negotiated prices, patched leaks, dried merchandise, and continually re-organized around streams that kept springing.  As the hubbub continued, I stopped to observe the vignettes around me.  It was poetry in motion, and I was amazed and humbled by the group’s talents, thoughtfulness, and generosity.  I watched decorating savants, organizational geniuses, heavy lifters, and tarp patrollers all serving each other and those around them with unabashed elation, despite the wild conditions. 

The rain continued into the afternoon picking up ferocity.  After rescuing yet another table from a new water surge, one of us cheerfully announced, “It can’t rain like this forever.”  Within seconds the rain replied with a much stronger torrential downpour.  At this point all our efforts were on rescue, and yet items continued to sell.  In spite of the crazy storm, cozy moments occurred beneath the struggling tarps.  A quiet man was delighted with his find; a book of paintings inspired by Galatians 5.  Fifteen years ago, this passage spoke to him while in prison and led to a joyful, spirit-filled life.  He reminded me how well we can see God at work when there is a storm raging on the outside.  His was metaphorical while ours was physical, but the results were the same.  God was at work, and this could be seen because of, not despite, the adverse conditions.

I laid in bed, tired to my bones, and thought back to the events of the day and those leading up to it.  It was like flipping through Polaroid photos.  Distinct moments had been captured in my memory and a pattern emerged.  We couldn’t account for our high sales based on the weather, our great advertising, or our musical entertainment.  We had been part of something extraordinary.  I fell asleep thinking, “God – what a beautiful day!”

The One that Got Away

The drinks were frothy and delicious, and I was enjoying mine while sitting on a small tuffet next to a Moroccan Coffee Table.  Focused on the glamorous arrivals, I could tell we were with the popular crowd because they were all wearing bracelets that glittered and jiggled.  Even more telling, laughs were sparkling more than drinks, which they somehow sipped without leaving red lipstick on the glass. 

So this is life in my new state, I thought to myself, and felt a twinge of loneliness in the crowd.  Before I could fully concentrate on how much of an outsider I was, I saw her.  She was beautiful like the others, but with a face I knew and hoped to see again someday.  In middle school my best friend moved away to reluctantly embrace life as a California Girl, and I had not seen her again until this moment.

She was truly a long lost friend.  Moving away before the ease of email (much less Facebook) could keep us in contact, we had exchanged several letters.  But the years of our friendship became distant, bonds frayed, and our connection finally severed.  Every once in a while I would remember how my childhood is linked to hers and would try random searches.  No contact information was forthcoming, and with a sigh I accepted that she was just part of my past.    

She sat down on an adjacent tuffet and started talking like we had seen each other last week.  For some reason it was hard for her to understand how amazed I was at this unexpected reunion, and so I tried to be casual and kept my exclamations in check.  We had so much catching up to do, but in mere minutes, the doorman came and announced that her limo had arrived.  As she stood to go, I cried, “Wait! Let me at least get your phone number.”  I searched in my pocket for paper and writing utensils but could only scavenge up a goldfish cracker – an escapee from an earlier snack.  “Here, scratch it out on this,” I said, and handed her the lone fish.  Her exquisite nails were perfect for carving in tiny numbers and she laughed as she handed me the tiny cracker tablet.

I watched her exit, surrounded by vivacious friends, obviously living a golden life in the Golden State.  She gracefully got into the limo and gave me a little wave before closing the door.  As the car drove away, I looked down at the note in my hand.  Before I had a chance to decipher the numbers, the little fish crumbled into a million bits.  The limo disappeared around the corner, and all I had of our future friendship was a handful of crumbs.