Friday, June 11, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
good reads
Are you a reading addict, like me? I just love the escape that comes when I open a book; the pleasure (and sometimes pain) of living within another's shoes for a short time has brought me much enlightenment, empathy, resolve, courage and gratitude. I read all kinds of things---fiction, nonfiction, classics, new releases, biographies and memoir. Personal, real-life stories are my favorite. That's why I always love getting my issue of Segullah in the mail. It is filled with personal essays written by LDS women, sharing their trials and triumphs, joys and sorrows, lessons learned and those they are still trying to learn. It is lovely, truly. (Plus, I have the privilege of helping recruit the featured artist in each issue, and really, what could be more fabulous that beautiful ART coupled with amazing WRITING?)
And, I'd like to share it with you. Right now, as a promotion for the 5th anniversary of this literary journal, you can get a free issue of Segullah when you subscribe for 1 year. You'll love it, I promise.
And, I'd like to share it with you. Right now, as a promotion for the 5th anniversary of this literary journal, you can get a free issue of Segullah when you subscribe for 1 year. You'll love it, I promise.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
one of those days
On days when you do
a lot of looking, but no finding;
a lot of diapering, but still get piddled on (twice);
a lot of cleaning, but without seeing much 'clean';
a lot of delivering, but don't get a lot delivered;
a lot of thinking, but no problem solving;
a lot of laundry, but, well, that never ends....
it is also a good idea to do a little
water fighting
flower gazing
bug tracking
scooter riding
park playing
sunshine enjoying
and {one-year-old} discovering.
a lot of looking, but no finding;
a lot of diapering, but still get piddled on (twice);
a lot of cleaning, but without seeing much 'clean';
a lot of delivering, but don't get a lot delivered;
a lot of thinking, but no problem solving;
a lot of laundry, but, well, that never ends....
it is also a good idea to do a little
water fighting
flower gazing
bug tracking
scooter riding
park playing
sunshine enjoying
and {one-year-old} discovering.
Friday, May 7, 2010
chocolate covered
It all started when a snazzy little package landed on my doorstep. Inside was heaven:
My most amazing parents sent me chocolate covered strawberries for Mother's Day! Shhhh...don't tell my siblings. I think they got perennials or something definitely less indulgent. The benefits of living out of state, huh?
The chocolate covered weekend had only just begun.
On Sunday, my hubby presented me with more chocolate strawberries. Mmmm. Doesn't he know me so well?
Apparently, the berries don't fall too far from the plant, if you catch my drift. Miss Kate couldn't get the delectable treats out of her mind, either. So, on Monday I told her we could make some more.
She, actually, did all the work. She carefully washed and dried the berries, stirred up the chocolate. I showed her once how to dip them, and she was off! She even thought of adding the toppings herself. The only thing I helped with was the decorative white chocolate stripes.
Sharing her special treat was treat in itself. What a proud little chocolatier!

My most amazing parents sent me chocolate covered strawberries for Mother's Day! Shhhh...don't tell my siblings. I think they got perennials or something definitely less indulgent. The benefits of living out of state, huh?
The chocolate covered weekend had only just begun.
On Sunday, my hubby presented me with more chocolate strawberries. Mmmm. Doesn't he know me so well?
Apparently, the berries don't fall too far from the plant, if you catch my drift. Miss Kate couldn't get the delectable treats out of her mind, either. So, on Monday I told her we could make some more.
She, actually, did all the work. She carefully washed and dried the berries, stirred up the chocolate. I showed her once how to dip them, and she was off! She even thought of adding the toppings herself. The only thing I helped with was the decorative white chocolate stripes.
Sharing her special treat was treat in itself. What a proud little chocolatier!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
at home
{My apologies if this shows up on your Reader multiple times. I've been having serious formatting issues today.}
When Chad and I were newly wed, we lived here:
Actually, we lived in the basement of here. The basement with the mine-shaft-like staircase, one window, a shower that restricted my 6'1" husband to a less-than-standing position, and just enough room for a full-sized bed (of which said husband's long legs dangled off). It was cozy, but it was home. Especially because in the upstairs portion of this little bungalow lived my grandparents.
Living with Grandma might not be every newlywed's idea of fun, but there is something to be said for random cookies or meals left at your door, a covered parking space, and next-to-nothing rent. Plus, I garnered great laundry and cooking tips from my homemaking-wise grandma, just when I started to care about that kind of thing.
Eight years ago, Grandma died suddenly, on Christmas Eve. Since that time, Grandpa has sold the house and lived in several locations. Although he's always had a place to lay his head, it seems to me that since Grandma left, he has been home-less; possessing a place, but devoid of 'home.'
A home is so much more than walls and a roof and a bed and a kitchen. A home is 'built' by the ones who live there, by the love they have, by the meals they share, by the memories they make. Grandma was the 'home' in Grandpa's life, and the 'home' for our entire extended family. Since she's been gone, we've all felt a little homeless (and homesick for her).
When Chad and I were newly wed, we lived here:
Actually, we lived in the basement of here. The basement with the mine-shaft-like staircase, one window, a shower that restricted my 6'1" husband to a less-than-standing position, and just enough room for a full-sized bed (of which said husband's long legs dangled off). It was cozy, but it was home. Especially because in the upstairs portion of this little bungalow lived my grandparents.Living with Grandma might not be every newlywed's idea of fun, but there is something to be said for random cookies or meals left at your door, a covered parking space, and next-to-nothing rent. Plus, I garnered great laundry and cooking tips from my homemaking-wise grandma, just when I started to care about that kind of thing.
Eight years ago, Grandma died suddenly, on Christmas Eve. Since that time, Grandpa has sold the house and lived in several locations. Although he's always had a place to lay his head, it seems to me that since Grandma left, he has been home-less; possessing a place, but devoid of 'home.'
A home is so much more than walls and a roof and a bed and a kitchen. A home is 'built' by the ones who live there, by the love they have, by the meals they share, by the memories they make. Grandma was the 'home' in Grandpa's life, and the 'home' for our entire extended family. Since she's been gone, we've all felt a little homeless (and homesick for her).
Just last week, Grandpa moved into my parents' basement apartment. Their set-up is a little different from the basement where Chad and I dwelt so long ago. There are many windows and lots of light, a full-sized shower, a queen-sized bed, closets with doors. But, like us, Grandpa's likely to find frequent meals or treats left for him, have help with laundry or cleaning, if he needs it, and, has a covered space to park his car. Although he'll never stop missing the home Grandma created for their family, I hope, living with his children, he finds a home: feeling the presence of others who share those walls and knowing the folks upstairs love him and want the best for him.

In loving memory of Grandma.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
the fashion world hates me.
In the year and a half since I was last pregnant, maternity clothes have taken a change for the "gypsy."
*Sleeves have gone fluttery (heaven help me).
*Shirts are supposed to hit you right below the bum (such an un-flattering place to land).
*Pants have tapered legs (this doesn't even look good when I'm skinny, let alone when I'm toting a baby bump).
*Nearly every top does this criss-cross thing across the chest, leaving LOTS of added room for that blossoming, pregnant bust line (of which, at week 23, I still have none).
*Dresses are, apparently, back in fashion. Except no one (I repeat, no one) can avoid looking like a campsite (read TENT) when wearing a dress over a prego belly.
*And skirts. Well, that's what I was really after. But, the mini is back (even in maternity...spare me), and well, I'm sure we all know why THAT won't work.
I spent all morning searching every store (with even a single maternity rack) in the mall. I didn't by anything.
Until I stopped at Borders on my way back to the car.
Books always save the day.
*Sleeves have gone fluttery (heaven help me).
*Shirts are supposed to hit you right below the bum (such an un-flattering place to land).
*Pants have tapered legs (this doesn't even look good when I'm skinny, let alone when I'm toting a baby bump).
*Nearly every top does this criss-cross thing across the chest, leaving LOTS of added room for that blossoming, pregnant bust line (of which, at week 23, I still have none).
*Dresses are, apparently, back in fashion. Except no one (I repeat, no one) can avoid looking like a campsite (read TENT) when wearing a dress over a prego belly.
*And skirts. Well, that's what I was really after. But, the mini is back (even in maternity...spare me), and well, I'm sure we all know why THAT won't work.
I spent all morning searching every store (with even a single maternity rack) in the mall. I didn't by anything.
Until I stopped at Borders on my way back to the car.
Books always save the day.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)

