Wednesday, April 01, 2015

I can hardly bend anymore these days to take a picture hobbit level.  Thankfully, the kiddies have beautiful blues that are used to looking up.

Thursday evening, the street lamps buzz with their orange glow, and we head down the street to the park for Ender's soccer game.   His excitement pulls and snaps him like a rubber band around the field with his buddies. .  Other boys and girls seemed to have grasped the concept of the general rules of the game and the taste of competition and victory.  But Ender has taken firm hold of happy oblivion. I've stopped cringing every time the ball rolls past his stop or he kicks it toward the other teams goal.  I smile now in admiration.  He is beaming with fun.Last year, he was fixated on how fast his left elbow cranked when he ran and holding a little blonds hand.  This year, he sits on the field line cone if he has to go the bathroom and is adamant about "holding it".  He's a pin ball pinging through an obstacle of friends feet. and is innocent of any self inflicting criticism.  Why must things change?  Could he just hand it over to me when his childhood is through with the delusion of of it?  Well, yes, I'd rather have him keep it, but I'd also like for him to share while he still has plenty of pious naivety.  If I believe hard enough, maybe I will shrink back down to ginormous living like Ender.


Thursday, March 26, 2015



Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I

She's a menace to a clean outfit, room, and schedule. She'll knock down your walls and let the light flood every corner. 
There are clouds in my mind.  The kind you would find sulking around over the moors in a Jane Austen novel.  I bat at them, try to shoo them away, but they persist.
A glint of shining blue catches my eye beyond the grey and its little lady lynn fluttering whimsically here or there.  She is a bowling ball of a thing, but whips and whirls as light and delicate as a bubble.  I love her.  Her chirping charms me.  I want to join her, but the low lying clouds slither around my ankles and shift into heavy chains that keep me earth bound.  Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 


Friday, March 20, 2015


Its not really who I think it is.  The neighbor, girlfriend,or estranged acquaintance, but a 3 headed demon of bitterness, envy and pride.  My opponent is in the ring with boxing gloves on taunting me while I try to shield the children's eyes from its hideous form.  I try buckling Cora in the car seat and her screaming protests begin to compete with the hissing from the ring.  Ender's whining and complaining gets caught among the lying and the jeering coming from the spiritual beast.  I plow forward to nap time.

Its at nap time that the house quiets and the fight can get serious.  You open your Bible, bow your head and glove up. 
When she fixes her gaze, her eyes are chiseled stone set under a pale smooth cliff.  But she is afraid of dragons. However, we know her heart to be stout like a dwarf, joyful like a hobbit and deep like the elves.  So... Zander showed her this clip tonight before bedtime.  He cried....no surprise there.

But he also cried with a father's proud and sentimental love when he found a top female wrestler that reminded him of Cora.  I'll have to post an interview of her sometime.


Tuesday, March 17, 2015

One night, like many, Zander tied on the apron strings.  He's top chef like his mama.  I could excuse myself by saying I'm pregnant and oxygen and chocolate are the only things I really want to be inhaling, but I can't.  Pregnant or not, I'd rather be doing something else than cooking.
Waste not want not.  He gathered broccoli from the garden, broccoli that had already opened into tiny yellow flowers.  Bubbling and melting in the next pan over was a lot of garlic, a lot of butter, a lot of lemon juice and just enough salt.   The blossoms on each their own pale green stem formed a perfect broom for sweeping up the addicting buttery sauce into our wide panned mouths.   Kids were ignored as they chewed their chicken in the next room, but I finally came to my senses and thought it would be nice to share the bounty.  Ender with the most refined palate of a four year old I know, lapped it up and even Cora ate it.  I think the bees must have left a little honey on each flower for the yellow haired girl. 

I noticed a bee with tattered wings.  It still hovered and hummed along without slowing.   How does a bee fly?  Its a myth now.  That bees shouldn't be able to fly.  God gave away just a little bit more of His secret and now we see that bees are not supposed to be studied against the flight mechanisms of an airplane.  Their wings are flexible, not rigid, for instance.  They are more like gods summoning mini hurricanes above their rotating garlic skinned wings and thus lift off.
God must create little storms of power above my tattered and faith flexed wings.  The honeybee does not tire like me, but we both by God's mystery and grace fly on to the next flower.  

Monday, March 02, 2015

"The February sunshine steeps your boughs and tints the buds and swells the leaves withing." ~Bryant




Yes, the buds of the fruit trees are breaching their wintry hold.  The life and delicate beauty I could never engineer.  I am happy to marvel, sometimes too insecure and scared to involve myself.   Zander is happy to tinker with what all God has give him stewardship over.  The yard is a bonsai challenge and he studies it, prunes it, bends it to his will and also to what he believes to be its natural destiny.  Its nice to have Zander teaching me how to be.  To be.
To be
content yet hungering
convicted yet full of grace
solid yet mysteriously nuanced

I don't intend for him to sit on a throne of sappy compliments :) I do love him, and know that he is because God is.




The humble and ugly dump of concrete God gave was in desperate need of.... a lot
I lamented over what was not.  I wanted to walk in paradise.  I forgot I was walking and more often than not being carried by Paradise Himself.
Honestly, (and gee, zander, I don't know if you're aware of this *wink) but I lust after trees.  I exult their brittle branches to godlike stature.  I could delve into my weird self as to why I do this, but talk about a big yawn for the majority of people. Needless to say, I am a bratty and grateful girl at the moment.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015




I don't remember what day it was.  It never matters, though, when Zander is on Christmas break.   Rising in the morning, living, falling asleep at night, dreaming;  a tranquil repetition of simplicity.

but just basic 101 photography zander.  notice street signs impaling your subject's head please.  

Slowly slowly, very slowly creeps the garden snail
Slowly slowly, very slowly leaves a silver trail

Quickly quickly very quickly he falls from careless hands
Quickly quickly very quickly mother reprimands.

I admit, I was a little over emotional about the snail's shell cracking.  I tattled on Ender to Zander (who didn't care.....strange) and I believe I cracked Ender's heart in the process.  He was certain the snail would shrivel up and die and never find a home again.  I wonder who gave him that thought....?  So I tightened the belt around my big girl pants and convinced Ender all would be well with the snail.  He was brave and bold and would certainly find new and better accomadations.

"Haven't you ever heard of a slug?!" Zander yelled form up ahead.

Wrong!

There is a slight difference.  It doesn't matter anyway... I did think the snail recovered from his slight wound.  They can grow their shell back.  However.... a month later, in the same spot,caught in a rain storm, Ender came ripping down the sidewalk on his big wheel.  No no no, the sight was not pretty.  The sound of the crunch was a sonic boom in my heart.  I hurried the children a long, trying to forget.  But I can't, because its smashed carcass has made a large stain that we pass every time we walk to the park.  

Gunther chasing pigeons. I like pigeons, and I hope they know it is all in fun, nothing personal. 

Wednesday, February 04, 2015

Garden trolls.  They confound you with their mischievous glee and leave you simultaneously joyful and infuriated.  I distinctly avoided books like the Cat in the Hat and Amelia Bedilia and the one cartoon Lilo and Stitch....As a kid I could never equate messy with funny.   I still can't.

But here I am dealing with a particularly horrid beast.  Cora, of course.  She pleasures in grinding baby green caterpillars between her claws of fleshy steel.  She hunts them down and tries to drown them in the dog's water bowl. (A great pesticide if your four year doesn't want to save them for his habitat)  She will rip your herb's roots from their damp dark safety and watch them burn and dry up in the sun.  She's little, she's round, but she moves with fire in her toes.

The world is her playground and she is having the time of her life.  She owns it with no responsibility or grave consequence.   She is so happy and is befuddled at your outbursts over her destructive joy.



I can see her storming the gates of hell with Jesus, once her brain is fully developed, and by prayer and petition she progresses in sympathy and empathy. 

Monday, January 26, 2015

Ender and his little Toadie




She's her own woman, spunky, opinionated, fearless (save big machines), but Ender is older, wiser and he knows it.  Its dawned on him to tap into the resources of his little sister to get things done.

"Cora, chase those pigeons!"
"Cora, pinch daddy"
"Cora, say you want to watch TV"
"Cora, say you're done with lunch and you want a treat"
"Cora, follow me"
"Get Gunther!"

At first, it seemed Ender was getting a little uncomfortable in the shadow of Cora and differentiating himself between that weird, loud urchin invading his once 'only child life".  But now, Cora has become more of an extension of Ender's will and dictatorship.  He is comfortable in his own skin and will use whatever means necessary to push some boundaries.  She is a weapon, mouth piece, and his little toadie. 

And they adore each other. until they don't. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

On the Rim


I vow never ever again will go in the snow without donning a fur onsie.  I mean it.



The road to Payson weaves and wends through some of the most beautiful landscape.  Glad the I- 17 couldn't cut it straight.  Seen enough of that road it seems.
Zander abandoned his very excited kids in the car to record Gunther's first experience in snow.  Typical.
I would have loved to play with the lighting of this beautiful scene in camera, but my fingers were stiff and fragile as icicles.   The snow was like the fallen breath of an ice queen, nothing was allowed to form from it.  So we just kicked it around for Gunther's amusement.  I threw so much snow in his face, all over his body, he loved it.  It was very cathartic.  He wansn't annoyed or in full blown toddler rage.  Tough of nails, that boy.

Friday, January 09, 2015

Junipine - December and a lot said about Cora's hair







Zander told me that Ender got a little hung up while listening to a story.  Apparently, he wasn't too concerned. Zander must weave some thrilling tales. Thats how focused of an audience Ender is. 

A series of zander selfies to follow.  He discovered it this trip.  There are more, way more.... with Gunther.


haha oh come on zander, really.

cora's mama finally was let on to the existence of leave in conditioner. That stuff is amazing! We found multiple dreadlocks in her hair.  Huh, I was under the illusion that people with curly hair were blessedly exempt from needing to use hair products.  One of the reasons I wanted lovely locks so bad. Though, zander complained that it brushed her "look" out.  Her look is feral I guess.
Then I witnessed another curly hair secret.  On Monday nights Cora gets a spa treatment from Grandma.  Well, she emerged squeaky clean (if only for a brief moment) and with combed through, slick blond hair.  Her curly haired aunts were not amused.. so they attacked that mop by some sort of sprucing with simply their fingers and in no time her head was covered in a dizzy pattern of spirals and coils.  So its just a two step process 1)leave in conditioner with comb through 2) and then fluff
Her bedtime routine is becoming quite la di da, what with her creams, lotions and essential oils applications in front of a roaring fire. haha
I

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

A dreary dark day in the desert.  

"In the dept of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer" - Albert Camus


Some of their not so best moments this past summer.  Below, innocent, vulnerable children have been dressed and primped for their Aunt's wedding by their stressed out father.  A damage control squadron was rushed in.



Snoozing.








Wednesday, December 24, 2014