Wednesday, November 4, 2015


Hi!  Still here.  Busy.  Back soon.  

(And, wow, if you're here, I'm impressed with your dedication and patience.  Love you!)    

Sunday, June 28, 2015

in photos: the last few days

I have loads of favorite photos from *last* summer that I never posted, but anyway.  A few favorites from today and the last few days.  I may never catch up on this blog, but for now I'll keep at it.  I may have time to write again, I may not.  Right now, I am experimenting and honing some photography skills and it feels SO good.  Beginning with today and going backwards in time:

:: Like our dog, she plays in the sun-spot.
Or, like me, she is searching for the light.

 :: Tonight we sat on our property fence and watched an air show.  Hazel always has something on her skin; she says it makes her beautiful.  Facepaint, tattoo, markers, pb&j...always something.  Today, appropriately enough, she had two (smudged) rainbows on each cheek.  Love wins.
:: Picking rhubarb and planting raspberries in the garden.

:: Playing with the half-grown chicks.  (Oh, man, I haven't even posted on playing with the baby chicks!)  Juniper is a wild, high-energy kid.  But you would never know it, watching her handle the chicks.  

:: Hazel is mostly mellow, but you have to watch her.  She may try to put a chick on her head.  

:: Summer solstice found me chasing butterflies and fairies in the field.  

:: On this morning, I happen to catch Juniper dressed up as a queen and taking care of her little princess.  
:: Note the tattoo.  
:: Friends playing on the porch: 3 girls and a boy.  
:: Hazel's magnificent morning halo.  
:: Sister love.  
 :: Juniper has a super sensitive scalp.  She doesn't want a haircut, but doesn't like me messing with her hair much.  So this is constant, Juniper holding her hair away from her face.
Until next time, 'night.  

Monday, May 25, 2015

just in time

When I was a kid I had a soft gray doll named Toofy.  It looked like a bunny, but I think it was supposed to be a kangaroo.  She had a little pocket on her front, where I would put my fallen baby teeth, and gently place it under my pillow.  I have no idea where Toofy came from (my best guess is my grandma made her for me).  I loved Toofy.  She may still be floating around this world somewhere, in my attic or my mom's.

The kids and I had talked about making Toofy dolls, but on this morning, we decided to do it.  I made a little sketch of what my old Toofy looked like, then Juniper drew her own design and I sewed.
Just in time.

She'd been chewing on a strand of yarn.  

Hazel's green eyes of envy.  She wants to loose a tooth SO badly.  Hazel will have her Toofy doll years before any teeth fall out.

But Hazel is unselfish and was quick to be happy for her sister.  Truly, this little sister is such a caring little lover, she makes my heart melt.

Juniper, being Juniper, wanted to keep her tooth.  We wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy, asking for a pro-rated amount, if she could keep her tooth.  Two quarters is what she got.  (Although I've heard the going rate in Manhattan is $17 per tooth.  The Tooth Fairy prefers Wyoming rates.)  A couple of days later, the second bottom tooth came out and now Juniper has a lisp.    

Monday, May 18, 2015

Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride

(Sorry guys.  Let's try this again....)

Yo!  I took the time to learn a new skill and I made a 4 minute video!  AND I uploaded it to my blog!  ("Skill" might be the wrong term here.  E-mail subscribers, if the video doesn't show up, you may have to click on the title of this post and be directed to my blog, which will have the video.)  

Image quality is pretty crappy (I kept it small), so I'll post some stills at a later date, as well as some outtakes and bloopers from the land of aloha.  

The pictures flip through pretty quickly so be ready....and turn your volume up because the music is everything......... 

Sunday, May 3, 2015

just a glimpse

So...most of you know we spent a couple of glorious weeks in Maui; our first (real? true? expensive?) family vacation.  A vacation without any real purpose other than to just be.  I've been s l o w l y sifting through photos.  Tonight I came across this candid moment, in a botanical garden, in a little thatched shelter, in a rattan chair.  (I do believe we were pretending to be Jungle King, Queen and Princesses.)

A little Hawaiian love on the blog tonight:

Monday, March 2, 2015

moment in time

This has been my desktop wallpaper for the last few weeks.  It's almost impossible to get a face-on authentic photo of this kid.  This image says so much about her right now: her smirky semi-hidden grin, mischievous eyes, thick fingers, and the hair: she's constantly chewing her hair and I'm constantly nagging her about it.  On the morning this was taken, she'd been slipping into my bed at night.  I was prepared this morning, camera on the bedstead.  When Juniper wakes she's like a rooster at dawn: feather's fluffed and ready to start cock-a-doodle-doing.  (Except fortunately, she doesn't wake at dawn.)  I pulled back a single curtain and told her she couldn't get out of bed until I took some pictures.

Now, it feels like months since either of my kids has slipped into my bed at night.  (Really, it's probably only been a week.)  I appreciate the more restful sleep but I miss their little snuggles.  Thanks Juniper, for allowing me to capture this moment in time.  Will you be sneaking into my bed tonight?          

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Dear Hazel: You, right now.

Today, you fell dead asleep three times in the middle of the day.  You are rosy-cheeked and feverish.  Your body has a hard time with colds, it always has.  Today was supposed to be a much-needed "day off" for me.  Or, at least, a couple of hours in the afternoon.  Instead, I got you, hot and snuggled into my lap.  I rocked you next to the fire, singing to "Little Liza Jane" and "Goodnight Irene" until the music stopped and you were asleep in my arms.  There was the part of me that wanted to work on my projects, feeling my "free" afternoon quickly slip away.  But then there was you: your crescent eyelids, your plump apple cheeks, your little chin...nestled into the crook of my arm just so.  All I could do was sit and rock you, kiss your forehead, trace your heart-shaped face with the tip of my finger, memorize your elfish ears, nuzzle your wispy hair, place your warm hand in mine.  And wondering all the while how many more times in my life will I rock a child, asleep in my arms?  How many more?  Is this the last?

Later on, you were upstairs on the futon, I slipped away to bring you some water and came back to find you sleeping, again.  Oh, I could eat you up, I love you so.  
:: You are my little snuggler.  You are a lover.  You squeeze so hard with your hugs, your whole body shakes.  If we part from friends without hugs, you will throw your arms in the arm and gasp, "But we forgot hugs and kisses!"  And you will run up and deliver the love.  Right now, you prefer to give "doggy kisses," (we're used to it but it takes your preschool teachers off-guard).  You started preschool last month!  You cried the first day and have loved it ever since.  You used to run into our room first thing in the morning, crawl into bed next to me and snuggle.  Now, you run into our room, crawl into Ladybug's bed and snuggle.  (I'll admit: my heart sinks a little when you pass up my bed for hers.)  She is not a licky dog, but she licks your face like an ice-cream cone.  Nearly always, your face is bearing some scrape or scar.  Right now, it's your nose.  Yesterday, the sidewalk bit your face when we were running from monsters.  It happens.

You are a mama's girl, one hundred percent.  You stopped nursing just a few months shy of your third birthday and not because you wanted to.  You have the most beautiful smile, reminding me so often of my mom.  You prefer to draw on yourself over drawing on paper.  You love to show us your "tricks", preforming yoga and gymnastic moves with straight legs and pointed toes, entirely of your own creation.  You are stubborn as a mule with mad negotiation skills.  You know how to get your way.  We often joke that if we had to guess your future career, you would be a lawyer and a tattooed, coffee-drinking yogini on the side.      
Your tears come often, and fast.  It's been this way since you got your first teeth and started walking.  You know how to press your sister's buttons.  And you love and defend your sister fiercely.  Yesterday when you spotted Juniper finishing up her ski lesson, you started stomping up a set of stairs, and in a hoarse undertone timed with each step you said, "Dat's. MY. SISTER!  Dat's. MY. SISTER!  Dat's. MY. SISTER!"
(This next photo is deceiving.  Juniper had turned away from the camera and you had just reached up and pinched her chin.  You think it's funny and she's getting ready to tell you off.)  
You love to dress up.  Like, not just play dress up, but dress up all the time.  You will choose the boots that are too small over the boots that fit saying, "But deese ones are more beautiful, dat because dey have flowers."  The other day, I went to dress you for preschool and you said, "But dat dress isn't elegant. I want an elegant dress, mommy!"
You don't like any toys, to speak of.  If you are playing quietly alone, it's because you are smearing hand lotion all over the bathroom, breaking into the medicine cabinet, drawing on yourself, cutting your own hair, or scattering dog food over the house.  At the toy store, you'll choose "Gallatic Ooze" over any toy.  You'll play pretend with Juniper almost endlessly.  But you love to just do what we're doing.  If I were to show you how to turn on the stove, you could single-handedly prepare scrambled eggs and toast for our family.  You love to help cook, mix essential oils, feed the dog, work up elk meat, re-load bullets with pops, work the garden with me.    
Over the last year we have come to realize how much you are like me in personality and Juniper is like pops.  It's almost creepy.  You have a logical, organized mind.  You will sit and thread macaroni noodles on a string until you run out of string.  You will be a knitter, I am sure.  
You love to snuggle with me by the fire after a bath.  You like to try on my glasses (and, not surprisingly, my glasses are right now MIA).  You are a quirky little goofball.  If we had a third child (we won't), you'd be the stereotypical middle child.  Oh, there is so much about you!  So much more!  (I'll save it for another night.)  I love it all.  I'll eat you up I love you so!