joyfully gray

Friday Night: Stepping Out

2012-02-17T23:55:00.008-06:00

Night out with the girls!

As much as I hate to leave Matt and Lucia at home,

I know that the company and sushi will be much enjoyed.

Not to mention an excuse to get dressed in fun garb.

xoxo

Happy Weekend friends!

Stripes + Polka Dots = Happy Thursday

2012-02-16T20:07:00.004-06:00

XOXO

Sarah

Happy Valentine's Day

2012-02-14T06:24:00.003-06:00

His name is Matthew;
I call him Mateo.
And I love him.

Week :: end

2012-02-12T09:50:00.006-06:00

Weekending with my loves is my favorite of favorite things.

From top to bottom it has gone like this:

Matt enjoying his Saturday fun meal at Republic.

Lucia requesting that we listen to the Lips vinyl.

Lucia very sleepy

and looking quite like the tiny baby I remember

and less like the little girl she has become.

Us laughing together while out to eat with our dadeo; he catches the most perfect shots.

Blog cards that I hand crafted.

(If I don't start telling people about this place it will never get read!)

Lu-chee's Closet: Mix of Thrift and New

2012-02-11T09:19:00.004-06:00

Everyday I thank heaven above for this sweet little girl.
She makes my days so bright with words and love.
She is a glass half full.

Old Navy Tights
Thrifted dress (tagless)
Gap Sweater

Cards & Love that I have Made

2012-02-10T11:24:00.007-06:00

After my grandfather passed away last year and then quickly-there-after, we lost Shane, I hit a wall with my creativity. After some rather heartfelt posts about our losses, I stopped writing all together. (It still pains me to read some of those posts. It still pains me to think of those two men.)

I stopped writing because there was a sadness and a void that I could not fill. But now, though I think of Shane and Jack still -- everyday, everyday, everyday -- I feel this urgency to create and write again. I have prayed aobut it and know that God pushing me back to my joy. I know it is a part of what makes me who I am.

Embracing the spirit of creativity is my latest mission.
Ruts be gone.
Memories flourish.
Love prevail.
That's the way those boys would want it. One thirty the other eighty-three.

One thing I know now that I did not know then....
our tomorrows are limited and I should spend my todays
with only love and joy and the people and things that make me happy.

I Do Calligraphy!

2012-02-10T11:01:00.002-06:00

One of my favorite things in the world is writing.

Envelope addressing and personalization, place cards, certificates, wedding vows, wedding programs, birthdays, anniversaries, parties or anything your heart might desire.

Let me write for you!

Rates

Because each project varies in time, supplies and personal specifications, all commissions are evaluated on an individual basis. Please contact me with your needs. I will be glad to give you a free quote; and, I will deliver or mail samples directly to you.

sjhgray@gmail.com

Style Choices

I love writing and can customize my style to suit your individual needs. If there is a certain calligraphy technique that you truly love, please send me a sample and I can try my best to match it. Or, I can send you samples of my custom styles and we can move from there.

Love + Crayolas + Stickers. Part Dos.

2012-02-08T14:14:00.069-06:00

Monday night Lucia and I made

Valentine's Day cards for all of her little friends at school. Originally I had planned to pair her cards with a bag of skittles or something sweet; but as we were huddled over our crayons in such delight, and enjoying each others company, I decided that we should share the crayon love.

So as an extension of our homemade cards, we got her six litte friends each a box of their own waxy goodness. (Had we needed to supply Valentine's for a large classroom of kids, I would have purchased a big fat box and given each child two or three crayons wrapped with ribbon because, let's be honest, boxes of crayons can equal a hefty sum for Valentine's cards. (I realized this as the cash register rang in delight when we checked out at Target).

Ching, ching. ching.

Instead of curling and tying ribbon to attach the crayons to the cards, Lucia and I colored clothes-pins and fastened the her valentines to each box. Super cute, if you ask me, and it gave her more to creatively color. We then neatly stacked them in a box that waits to be happily delivered on the fourteenth.

Here are pictures of her making her cards on day one:

TOO MUCH SWEETNESS.

Love + Crayolas + Stickers

2012-02-07T19:05:00.015-06:00

Lucia and I had a merry little art fest last night.

We embarked on our creative adventure in baby girl's room

and ended up on the hallway

floor with a handful of complete and sweet Valentine's Day Cards.

Crafty essentials:

An eager and instructive tot--"mom, 'draw love, draw love!'"

crayons-a-plenty, princess stickers,

cardstock scraps,

and love--lots and lots of love!

Xoxo,

Sarah (and Lucia)

Week-ending.

2012-02-06T17:28:00.002-06:00

Jelly eating.

Who needs toast.

Daddy chatting.

De-cluttering of the living room. Ah.

I feel refreshed!

Kiss stealing.

xoxo,

Sarah

Lucia's Closet: When she dresses her cute self!

2012-02-04T11:17:00.004-06:00

A pajama Cinderella nightgown as a dress (she insisted); pink and orange striped sweater; striped navy and white tights; purple boots; and some of her mom's necklaces. Rockingly fabulous.

#febphotoaday

2012-02-04T07:18:00.003-06:00

My view:

Words:

Hands:

Diapers and Pull Ups and Big Girl Panties

2012-02-03T06:15:00.001-06:00

We are rather non-aggressively potty-training at our house.

Lucia wears pull-ups or diapers at night;

runs around the house bare-bottomed or clad in "big-girl" panties;

and we still wear a pull-up when we venture outside the house.

I am sure that this is not the right way to potty train -- but I also do not really care.

She will get there when she gets there and I know she will not be going to pre-k in diapers. Or college.

It is definitely laugh-worthy to see Matt and I huddled around a toilet after Lucia goes potty -- clapping and hollering --ridiculous rejoicing her accomplishment.

One thing that I know will push Lucia to understand using the potty is that she hates to be wet. If she goes in her pull-up, she changes it herself or tells us that it is "soggy" and she needs a new one.

Yesterday morning she was sleeping with me and for some reason her diaper had come unattached in the night. All of the sudden I was drenched in wetness. (Note to self: letting a toddler double-fist a sippy cup of milk and a sippy cup of water at 8pm, not a good idea). Long story short, the diaper that was hardly wrapped around her little bum was not at all wet, Lucia's pants had maybe a spot of wetness and I was soaked because she was laying on my tummy. Nonetheless, Lucia immediately woke -- crying dramatically because she was wet. Yes, because she was WET. To get her to quiet down, I had to quickly change her - tape a new diaper around her, find some new jammies (because hers were SOAKED). But the light was TOO bright and I needed to turn it off because it hurt her eyes. All tasks were completed in the dark. I am a talented diaper-wrangler.

Finally, I was able to change my own clothes because she was dry and happy again, but not until after she had fresh cup of water in her hand and she was warmly cuddled under the covers -- all nice and snug, and most importantly, NOT a wee-bit WET.

Disney Princess Play

2012-01-30T06:15:00.001-06:00

A seriously girly date with Alison and Briar.

Popcorn.
Princess cups.
Snow White.
Cinderella.
Belle.

Such joy on two little faces - the best part!

Lucia's Closet

2012-01-29T08:18:00.001-06:00

Dress: Harajuku Mini for Target.

Tights: Old Navy.

Boots: Target.

Gold bow: Etsy.

I feel so Wonderful, Wonderful

2012-01-25T15:58:00.000-06:00

This song, "I Feel So Wonderful" always brings me to tears. Matt took me to see My Morning Jacket in Tulsa a few weeks ago and while I am a big baby that hates to be out late on work nights, I did not regret one second of this journey. Wow. I have never seen such a beautiful concert, nor have I ever felt so moved during a song. For some reason, this song immediately took me to thoughts of Jack and Shane.

I thought of my grandpa's long life and "how it took him a long time" to get where he was on the morning of his death. I wondered what he may have been thinking about in his final days and wished and wished that I had been there to say goodbye. I tried to get there to say goodbye to my Jack, but time was not on my side. He passed peacefully and hopefully in little pain. I miss him everyday, which kills me because I did not even speak to him everyday. But he was my grandpa and I loved him so.

I also thought of how Shane and my grandpa went "where there is no pain, where there arent any police or disease." I did not know Shane the way my husband did, but I miss him everyday too. He was Matt's best friend.

I can take things pretty far in a matter of five minues, right?

The following day, Matt and I looked up the lyrics. While I still feel the same way that I do about the song - as it still means the same to me and I cannot shake the feelings that it brings me -- from what we read, I understand that Jim James was taking it elsewhere and was happy in a current moment in his life. It seems like hew as being self-reflective. Beautiful. And I hope he doesn't mind that it still makes me feel the way it does.

Lucia's Closet, Take One: She Wears Gifts

2012-01-23T19:51:00.002-06:00

There is something about having a girl that screams "get that child dressed in something stellar" every morning in my mind. (I do hope if I had a boy or ever do have a boy, I will also want to dress him.)

My mom recently went on a family vacation to Mexico and brought back this lovely embroidered shift dress for Chee. It is oh-so-presh and will really rock in the spring. Until then, I must give her kuddos on this layered look.

Cute bracelets from Matt's mom. She loves feeling like a big girl in her jewels.

Xoxo, SG

My new Pants, Saturday

2012-01-21T13:25:00.001-06:00

I had a little fun at needsupply.com last weekend and anticipated the arrival of these super flare pants all week long! Here they are in all their killer-rad-glory.

Hilarious Stuff She Says

2012-01-20T12:05:00.003-06:00

Reaching out and grazing her hand across my hip bone,

Lucia whispered, "Mom, I love your zits, they are so beautiful."

(Just so we are clear, I do not have hip-ne,
but maybe she was eyeing my stretch marks?)

Where//Wear

2012-01-20T11:23:00.003-06:00

One of my favorite things about Sundays is that we brunch with friends.

We have finally lived in this city long enough that we feel a part of it -- both in our knowledge of wonderful places to dine and visit, and also because we are surrounded by a rather tight-knit group of kind folks that we love. (This is our fifth year here and the longest I have personally ever lived in any one locale).

Another reason I love our brunch dates so much is because I love throwing together outfits for both myself and Chee. Here we are last weekend. Me with my mom bag and she with her barbie! We are quite the pair.

Happy Friday.

Recently hubs and I ....

2012-01-19T21:27:00.000-06:00

Went to Mexico with our friends Lance and Sasha.
While it was a wretchedly long time to be away from my baby-chee, we did have a fabulous time and it was fun to see my husband let his hair down and chill. He deserved a week to breathe easy because he busts his bootie for our family and free time is something he rarely encounters.

Cabo in 2012.

A Strong Liking for...

2012-01-18T18:41:00.006-06:00

Dear Internet World,

Here are some things that I found amusing and interesting today:

Vasilieva blog: Check out this beautiful lass and her desirable wardrobe - all encompassed in the most airy and unforced array of images.

This baby and lifestyle is pretty cute. That is all I can say.

Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers via Supply Company - simply a day maker.

Because someone made me watch Gym Bunny and I am making you.

Enthralled with this Eat to Live way of nourishing one's body. Eat to live and not live to eat. Novel.

Colourful Weekend

2012-01-16T11:06:00.005-06:00

In attempt to capture a pre-brunch photo with my wee-Chee, we ended with not one of us smiling together, but some colourful sweet moments instead - the best kind of shots:

Weekend Internet Surfing - Immensely Enjoyed:

2012-01-16T09:58:00.002-06:00

At home with Chloe Sevigny.

Lavendar Sugar Scrub via And Everything Nice.

Moonrise Kingdom - film to see.

Free People Office Style: American vs. British! So fun.

Knocking on Door Sixteen, Vegan Chili Recipe that I am going to give a whirl.

Recording Store Outings - be still my beating heart.

xoxo, Sarah

Pictures of Quiet on a Saturday

2012-01-14T22:22:00.002-06:00

song of a beard

2012-01-14T10:10:00.002-06:00

calico,

a pattern of joy - 
like the fur of a kitty cat -
the purring hum of his beard.

coarse,

scratchy

and

festively painted.

red,

orange,

brown,

white.

The Creativity of God
at his very finest.

gallant,

woolly,

rugged,

x and y.

love,
mine.

Something I never leave the house without...

2012-01-14T10:08:00.000-06:00

Myself in jewelry or at least a headband! Usually both.

Matt took this photo of me a couple of months ago when we went to a party in a pimped out barn! For real. There were mirrors, a stripper pole, read leather couches, a pool table, a bar with this amazingly flattering lights. It was fun. And, it was the first time we left Lucia with a babysitter that was not one of our parents.

A Song for the Day - one of my favorites

2012-01-09T05:59:00.000-06:00

And we are off...

2011-12-27T17:00:00.000-06:00

Matt and I are off to Mexico with our dear friends, Lance and Sasha in less than forty-eight hours. I have bittersweet feelings about going -- do not want to leave my little Lucia, but know that I will have a good time with my husband. And again it hits me, I do not want to leave my little Lucia! She is staying with Matt's parents and will be a-okay and in wonderful hands, I know; however, I am already homesick for her!!! Oh, motherhood.

I have enjoyed the last couple of days gallivanting around with her -- she is such a doll. When she gets tired of being anywhere she says, "mom, can we please go home now?" Today she told me that I was her best friend. So cute.

xoxo

Merry Christmas, World beyond our home

2011-12-25T16:58:00.000-06:00

Santa has been to our home this evening;

he left a stocking full of goodies for dear-little-Lucia,

along with a jeep, a tunnel, blocks, dress up clothes, a doctor's kit and a stroller!

Our little Chee must have been a good girl this year!!

Matt and I are having wine and cuddling on the couch watching Midnight in Paris,

while bunny sleeps snugly in her bed and Scarlett is nestled at Matt's feet (because he will not let her on the couch!)

Perfection.

Love and peace.

The Holidays and thoughts of Loved Ones

2011-12-24T16:56:00.002-06:00

When I was young I spent many Christmas Eve nights with my grandparents.

This morning when I woke, I thought of Jack sitting with his glasses low on his nose, eyes staring downward at the neatly folded newspaper on his lap, satisfyingly open to his beloved crossword puzzle.

The radio would be muffled next to him; the FOX channel on at a low roar until a story caught his attention.

Wish I could sit by him or ask him to perk me some coffee.

Beautiful little bit via Free People Blog

2011-12-23T16:54:00.000-06:00

Via Building 25 - Free People Blog

My FAVORITE POEM. EVER.

2011-12-22T16:52:00.000-06:00

Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

THIS is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,—
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.

Her message is committed	5
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!

The Bell Jar

2011-12-22T16:51:00.001-06:00

Image via Dear Hancock:

"The drawing of the black shoes above are titled The Bell Jar

perhaps referring to the shoes that the protagonist in the book The Bell Jar fixates on at the end of the story."

Oh, Sylvia Plath, how I would have loved to see what else you would have done.

(...I think this pen and ink drawing

would make for an awesome tattoo!)

a few of my favorite things

2011-12-20T16:49:00.001-06:00

the smell of old books.

addressing and mailing christmas cards.

coffee in the morning - one cup too many, no less.

rekindling old friendships gone dry.

being with friends.

vinyl.

my husband.

my daughter.

christmas lights.

nativity scenes.

picking out my outfits every morning.

scarves.

walking into a clean kitchen.

chocolate pie.

Blog. Write. Blog. Write.

2011-11-23T08:40:00.001-06:00

Just write something already. I have really wanted to start blogging again because I love the collection of memories that it provides for our little family. I just have yet to start. I keep telling myself to just type already! It has not been so easy this time around. I might have stage fright. I might have writer's block. Ha. I might just not have my groove.

I am working on it.

Today we are off to Houston to visit our besties, Lance and Sasha.
Allow me to give you a history:
Lance, Matt and Shane went to school in Ponca City together.
Lance moved to Texas. Shane then moved to Texas.
Lance and Shane reconnected and became dear best friends.
Matt and Lance kept up with each other through Shane.
Lance and Matt now have a super tight bond.
I consider their friendship yet another one of the gifts that Shane left us all.
Oh, Shane.

We will have dinner with Sasha's parents tomorrow, hit up the Medieval fair on Friday and the Houston Children's Museum on Saturday. Or maybe in a different order. At the Medieval Fair we are going to pick up Briar and baby Peyton some of those horn-type hats. And I am so excited about the Houston Museum because I went their as a child with my mom. Way.back.in.the.day.

Did you know that Houston was my second home? And by second home I mean the second out of the seven places that I have lived in my life. We were Houston during my first - fifth grade years. I had a best friend named Meg and she had the coolest She-rah collection -- even had the castle! Her older sister's name was Kate and I thought she was the coolest thing since sliced bread, but she was second to Debbie Gibson.

Other things:
I recently had to take my engagement ring in because I broke an entire prong off -- somehow -- who knows. Thank God I noticed my wiggly diamond. Come home soon little ring, I sure miss you.

New concrete floors with high gloss finish. These are the floors I have always dreamt of having. I cannot put my furniture back in yet, mostly because I am paranoid about them getting very very dry so that my big-ass piano does not wreck havoc on their artfulness. (Totally impossible).

I recently went off of coffee for an entire month thinking that it was a contributor to my glorious IBS symptoms. I am back on and much happier for it.

Lucia. Lucia. Lucia. Her most recent phrase is "you hurt my feelings." If you so much as look at her with warning eyes -- as in do not do that little miss -- or tell her to stop doing something, she will tear up and say "you hurt my feelings." It was clever at first. She eats little more than peanut butter and jelly, milk, Whole Foods Chicken Nuggets, sausage, apples, bananas and grapes. Seriously it is not me, it is her. I try getting everything and anything in her belly-- from green beans to baked potatoes. My child has a very limited palliate. Oh wait, she will eat Lara bars too. And the occasional handful of Cheerios. Some days she only requests Pop Tarts. I buy the organic kind-- do you think that makes a difference? Ha.

L and I were going to go see my Grandma at the beginning of Christmas Break, however, I recently realized that we are not getting out of school until the 22nd! That gives me little time before Christmas to get there and get back. I am trying to convince her to head this way, but she is not really in the traveling mind-set right now.

Alison had her baby! Peyton Anne. She is beautiful and looks just like her daddy, Shane. It is hard to believe that I have not written on this blog since around the time that my grandfather and Shane both passed away.

We are so happy for A and thrilled that Peyton is here safe and sound. What a little blessing!! When I get caught up in all of my emotions, I have to put myself in check -- how truly awesome is it that Shane left this world and was still able to share more of himself with all of us months and months later? A little big more of Shane in this world now--how wonderful. And a gift.

There is my leap back into the journaling/blogging/writing world. I am going with it and pressing publish.

Three years ago today.

2011-11-07T13:17:00.003-06:00

Approximately Nov 7, 2009:

Self Portrait

2011-11-02T14:12:00.008-05:00

Six-thirty.

Sitting by my gal, Lucia and not very eager to get up and dressed for the day. I would rather stay snuggled next to my bunny on the couch! Is that what makes moments like these so sweet--you wish they'd linger longer?

xoxo

Happy Tuesday. ish.

Favorites moments with her lately

2011-07-08T22:50:00.000-05:00

Watching her patiently have her finger nails painted by our friend, Katy. A coat of red followed by a coat of silver sparkles. Still. More still than I have ever seen her. The most difficult stage of the manicure session -- staying just as still after the the painting concluded. Don't touch ANYTHING, little bunny.

Listening -- One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten -- she repeats her numbers, as she goes over a collection of the same three fingers again and again.

This afternoon she leaned over, rubbed my arm gently and said, "You are a nice mama."

Tonight, she laid in my arms while we rocked and said our prayers. I whispered, "I love you" and she exchanged the phrase in return, "I love you too." Sweet little tiny voice.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
if I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

I sputtered about how those words mean more to me now than they ever have...
I told her that I have said them all of my life, starting long ago with my mom and dad.
Though, until now, the simple words of a prayer never felt so sweet, so true.
She sweetly said, "yeah," like she understood.

...Just like when I used to tell her I loved her while she nursed.
And she would make kitty noises in return, like she understood,
like she loved me back already.

Painted finger nails in prayer.

Heaven and such...

2011-06-30T00:01:00.005-05:00

Thirtieth with my Loo-chee-a.

I love her.

I have been smashing through piles of crafts, photos,

odds and ends -- more or less, trying to take control of my clutter in the guest room. I suddenly noticed that the space was going to reserve a guest spot for me on Hoarders.

In the heeps, I found the generous amounts of goodies that my grandmother has sent me over the past months. Letters to her from my grandpa, pictures of my dad as a child, trinkets from Jack's life. I found Shane and Alison's post-wedding photo, some pictures from our trip to Mexico with them.

I also recovered a note that I wrote to Matt on my 23rd birthday.

Dear Matt,

Thank you for sharing in celebration of my twenty-third birthday.

You are holding my heart in the palm of your hand.

Love, Sarah

And then it hit me. I am thirty.

In delight, great consideration flooded my mind:

Twenty-three,

equating seven years with my husband.

At twenty-three, I never thought about turning thirty. The most immediate looming number at twenty-three was the quarter-life-of-twenty-five,

which gave me the superior rights to rent a car.

Thirty is something to celebrate.

A milestone.

We should all be so lucky to embark upon our thirties.

So lucky to hit thirty with a beautiful baby girl and a husband,

friends,

family.

Forties.

Fifties.

Beyond.

Thirty has made me think more of Shane and his short life,

how he fulfilled his purpose on this earth in such a short time

and touched so many lives with his vibrant heart beat.

Thirty has made me think about my Grandpa and his long life.

He had a much different story than Shane.

Both loved fully;

both fully loved.

One my grandfather,

my grandmother's husband;

the other my husband's best friend,

my friend's husband.

While they both had beautiful stories --

one was short,

the other long.

Stories.

Both rich.

And neither life ever touched the other -- so this comparison not even relevant for any one other than me....Me at thirty.

Life and death,

all the same.

You never know when the two will collide.

How lives intersect.

How the beginning meets the end.

How the end meets the beginning.

How Heaven is all around us.

My Morning Jacket

2011-06-26T11:18:00.002-05:00

B.B.B.B. Can't You See That I'm Smiling???
Can't You See - There's A Part Of Me That's Brand New???
Used To Be - Was A Part Of Me Felt Like Hidin - But Now It Comes Thru!
Deep In My Heart - That's Where The Knot Comes Loose.
Deep In My Heart - I Will Remember You.
All My Lovely Life I Been Waitin - Hot Heels Anticipatin.
Another Love I Found Not To Let It Down.
Deep In My Heart - That's Where The Knot Comes Loose.
Deep In My Heart - I Will Remember You.

--My Morning Jacket

Weekending

2011-06-26T09:09:00.000-05:00

This morning Matt woke up to the sound of water from the sprinkler tinkling

on the window pane. In disillusionment, he came into the living room and asked if I was watering.

Why, yes, I thought our crunchy grass and dehydrated cannas could use a drink.

In the oven was a broccoli, tomato and egg bake.

Banana bread warm on the stove.

Fruit smoothies fresh from the blender.

I played Sarah-home-maker this morning.

It was kinda fun.

Coffee, anyone?

Lucia says it is coming right up.

And Happy Thirtieth Birthday to our dear Aunt Samantha,

baby mama to be.

At Thirty

2011-06-22T14:12:00.001-05:00

I only feel like a better version of my twenty-year-old self.

More accepting of who I am and more willing to share what I can with others.

Many lessons, blessings and love under my belt -- some hard, some wonderful, but no regrets.

Same sister, daughter, friend,

but a little more evolved.

Add wife and mother to my life resume... making me complete.

Grateful for my years and life.

Aware of how fleeting and beautiful it all is.

Thank you for all of the birthday wishes.

xoxoxo

Her Dad

2011-06-20T23:14:00.003-05:00

Mateo, I believe in my heart that you are wonderful at so many things.

But I must tell you, my dear,
you exceed -- beyond measure -- at one thing in particular...
and that is being a daddy.

We have one lucky little girl.

I knew you would be a good father from our first days together.

I suppose that is one of the reasons I poured my heart out
to you very early on in our relationship.
I knew.
I recall saying something to the effect of "wanting to have your babies" and you did not run away.

I am so glad I had your lovely little Lucia.
She is your light;

you're eyes are so much brighter now.

Happy Father's Day - 2011.

You and Chee-a on her second birthday.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

2011-06-15T06:36:00.003-05:00

*Image Source

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats	5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …	10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,	15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,	20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;	25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;	30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go	35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—	40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare	45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,	50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—	55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?	60
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress	65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin? . . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets	70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. . . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!	75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?	80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,	85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,	90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—	95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,	100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:	105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.” . . . . .	110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,	115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …	120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.	125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown	130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.	T.S.Eliot

*Image Source

O v e r h e a r d

2011-06-14T22:16:00.006-05:00

Nine-year-old-niece and thirty-year-old husband:

Adalynn, what have you been up to lately?

Mia and I were on this website called Girl Games the other day. We found a skit by some girl about how much she loves Justin Bieber; it had over one-thousand hits -- (ehem, very impressive fact, people).

Just Bieber, huh?

Yes, I love him.

I heard he is dating Salena Gomez.

I know! She is so lucky!

Well, the guys at my office are pretty off-put by it, they think she is better than him.

The guys you work with like Justin Bieber!? (Excited.)

Well, not really.

Oh, well, I still think she is lucky.

h e l l o m o t h e r w i n d

2011-06-11T08:28:00.005-05:00

The wind was incorrigible last night;

so brutal that I checked the weather channel twice to be sure we did not need to be underground. I have lived in Oklahoma for more than half my life now and the storms can still wreck my nerves.

Fear and comfort simultaneously boil in my gut.
Lightening charges the house and makes the bedroom bright.
The thunder cracks and shakes the house.
The bricks do not crumble.

While I fear the worst, I also love snuggling

deep under quilts while the wind howls and the rain beats the roof... at least after the news ensures that the big bad wolf will not blow my house down. I always steal Lucia from her bed during storms. In bewilderment she wakes in the morning curious as to how she arrived tucked under my arm.

How can ease and trepidation be wrapped in the same blanket?

One night in Oklahoma holds the key.

I wonder how (*Lucia's) chickens feel during a storm?

Lucia and Papa seem to have an understanding...

his chickens are her chickens.

A & B

2011-06-07T15:23:00.027-05:00

L's last few weeks chock-full of two of her favorite girls, Alison and Briar; we have been soaking up lots of Keim goodness. And let me tell you, my daughter is in love. She speaks of Briar quite often. (Though, I must admit, I am confused by her admiration because she seems to adopt a case of "mine-i-tis" when they are playing together. Other mothers assure me that it is a two-year-old-thing, but her lack of interest in sharing is wearing me thin). All sharing issues aside, the pair get on quite well and have some really great moments. Lucia refers to Briar as her best friend, which took little coaxing from us!

Lucia has also adopted a fondness for Alison. She will cry when A so much as walks out of sight and around the corner. I would say those actions speak much louder than words! Delicious and delightful actions.

At the Cowboy Festival a few weeks ago, I knew Lucia loved A because she climbed right up on her lap and completely sat back and relaxed; it was one of the sweetest moments I have ever witnessed between she and another person.

Just when an deep wave of sadness overcomes my heart with thoughts of Shane, I witness occasions such as these shared with his girls and I feel a little ease.

Bittersweet.

The absolute truth,

nothing to shake it away.

Ruthless yet merciful.

A stab wound that has stamped our lives with heartache and joy.

Living inside an oxymoron;

a figure of speech that I want to tell to take a hike -- actually, worse.

Lines that bleed together,

the glass that fogs up with heat from a teary face,

preventing you to see your reflection.

Hearts that eventually stitch;

the scars that stay,

the blood drops that stain -- their only redemption, red is the color of love.

This is the view of life inside an oxymoron.
Bittersweet.

We love you A and B ...

cannot wait to meet the fourth of all of you.
We love your little *apple already.

*baby is the size of an apple this fifteenth week of A's pregnancy!

Chapters of Summer: Lucia's Words

2011-06-07T08:08:00.100-05:00

We have officially embarked upon our beloved summer holiday. Lucia is employing words like "delicious and disgusting," in her everyday vocabulary, which I find all-together hilarious and -- let me be honest -- quite impressive.

Mmmm, this is delicious!!

As her red-stained mouth swallows heaps of spaghetti -- her favorite.

Pe-ew, your feet are disgusting!

When I take off my shoes.

Really, Matteo?
I am adding that one to the Mommy's pooping files.

Yesterday in response to something Matt said at the dinner table, she retorted with Actually Daddy.... Both of our mouths dropped; we were too shocked to even realize what words followed. I am anxious for her to throw it out there again.

Other phrases often sputtered....

Okay, mama.... as she takes her diaper to the trash for me or picks up her crayons.

Mama, do you understand? ... When she thinks I am not listening.

Okay, I make you a hamburger; you want a hamburger? While playing at her kitchen.

She also likes to work "that" into sentences, here and there or anywhere... Want that my chicken. Want that my bunny, while pointing for her pink floppy eared friend. She loves bunnies!!! Hopping like a bunny, playing with her bunny, reading books about bunnies. Bunnies and ballerinas.

Yesterday I overheard her talking to Scarlett. She said, It is okay baby Scar, it will be nap time soon. I really wish I knew the context of that conversation; I bet it was interesting!

I wonder what words she conjures up in her dreams?

They must be good, especially because she is wearing such a Pretty Princess Ballerina night gown,
how could one go wrong in such lovely attire?

Memorial Day: Music Monday Madness

2011-05-30T11:59:00.008-05:00

Is alliteration frowned upon?
Especially the less clever version as above?
Is it the preposition-at-the-end-of-the-sentence kind of wrong?
The preposition that seems so unavoidable, yet often offers a solution, right under my tongue and fingers...

Oh well, if so.
Memorial Day: Music Monday Madness in the Morning, perhaps not witty but titled with love, love and truth.

Poe used it -- alliteration, that is; should that say something at least?

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping...

Did Poe wear his pajamas and Pantera shirt on a Memorial Morning with a baby perched on his shoulder?

Or was that a Raven, perched above his chamber door?
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above his chamber door --
Perched, and sat, and nothing more?

Maybe Poe needed the joy of a baby in his world;
I do not think he ever had children.
Not that one must have children.
But I will say that a baby perched on my shoulder makes me happy.
Perhaps a baby would have masked the pain and torment of his lost Lenore?
Maybe he would have had less of life to fear, been tormented less by the unknown, if a child had decorated his life?

Or maybe not.

But I fear less and love more because of her,
which is all that I know.

Matt and I recently spoke of Gothic Literature -- darkness and dread, the underbelly of the world -- he explained in regards to the type. Like Dark Romanticism? Poe-like? I asked.

Quoth the Raven, nevermore.

Let us not have fright, Lucia reminded me last night.
When the house creaked a bit and the wind caused a stir she softly whispered:
It's okay mama, don't be scared, it is only a dinosaur.

What comfort in that!

The Morning Vinyl Line up Entailed:

Flaming Lips and Prefuse 73, Self-titled

Radiohead, The King of Limbs

LCD Soundsystem, This is Happening

Autolux, Transit Transit

Flying Lotus, Cosmogramma

Tame Impala, Innerspeaker

Lindstrom and Christabelle, Real Life is No Cool

Tune-Yards, Who Kill

The Talking Heads, Naked

Is it just me or is my kid super gorgeous?

Prague on Facebook

2011-05-28T23:02:00.002-05:00

Luca Ackerman
I went to ISP graduation this morning and it made me think of my class, my experience, and my age...I just wanted to send my best wishes to those of you who graduated with me, and I hope to reconnect someday. My thoughts were with you today.

13 hours ago · ·

You, Alanna Van Antwerp, Candice Vazquez and 2 others like this.
- Julia Strnad Aww. Do you remember we gave some kind of speech together??
  12 hours ago via Facebook Mobile ·
- Theresa Wilson Awww, well i hope you are doing well.
  11 hours ago via Facebook Mobile ·
- Alanna Van Antwerp ‎:) Julia Strnad- I think the two of you gave a speech about our generation or something? I remember crying a ridiculous amount and then getting tipsy on all the free champagne in the courtyard (not realizing how cool it was that ISP served it!)
  8 hours ago ·
- Julia Strnad I really wonder what we said in the speech. Would be a fun exercise in nostalgia to find the transcript and read it now.
  7 hours ago ·
- Sarah Gray Prague was such a mixed bag of emotions for me; ten years later I definitely realize the impact that all of my teachers, friends and surroundings had on my life. A beautiful journey -- a rich experience that I would not trade for anything in the world. I hope we can all meet again someday as well -- cheers to that! XOXO
  9 minutes ago ·

Do You Realize...

2011-05-25T21:41:00.000-05:00

One, two, three, four -
Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize - we're floating in space -
Do You Realize - that happiness makes you cry
Do You Realize - that everyone you know someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun don'-go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do You Realize - Oh - Oh - Oh
Do You Realize - that everyone you know
Someday will die -

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun don'-go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize
--The Flaming Lips

Shout Out...

2011-05-18T06:23:00.000-05:00

It has been a long while since I have posted, at least a week. But it is not because I do not have anything to say or write about; it is because time is fleeting and sometimes slips away from me. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking of words that I need to write down; I try to keep them all in my head.

School is quickly coming to a close and I am trying to get the last of my research papers graded. Total time suck.

Alison and Briar are in town and we have been able to spend lots of time with them lately. Sunday evening we went and shared a deliciously prepared Jewish meal with Alison's family and Shane's sister, Danielle. It was so nice to see everyone and as I mentioned, the food was delish!! A has the nicest parents-- they treated Matt and I as if we were family. So warm. And I am in love with her mom's garden. Garden envy.

B and L: Photo credit: Danielle.

Note to self: garden someday, someday soon. Stop talking and do, do, do.

I have recently noticed something quarky about myself. Sometimes it drives me crazy. Whenever I relay something that someone else has said I use a different voice. It annoys me.

I have been up since four again today. I just cannot get my sleep together.

2011 Graduates recently walked -- I will miss some of those lads next year.

Hello to my brothers. I was thinking about the two of you last night and how life would not be right without you. I love you.

Four A Em

2011-05-11T21:01:00.000-05:00

Screaming baby.
Sleepily make a swooping rescue, toddler in arms, to my bed we go.
Minutes later, all is still and quiet...
"Mama?"
"Yes?"
"I love your freckle," touching my face.

Sunday Afternoon

2011-05-10T16:03:00.004-05:00

After church with Matt's family on Mother's Day,
we all sat in the meeting room and waited for lunch.
Lucia pried my mouth open and
dug around inside with her little fingers (that had been who knows where).
After a rather prolonged few minutes of her raking my teeth,

I, only slightly exasperated, posed the inevitable:

"Lucia, What are you doing?"

"I looking for bugs, mama."

Two days later and I am still laughing.
It is the story that my grandpa always used to tell about that one time when I said....or Brian said.... and it was still funny every last occassion.

And now I am my grandfather telling and retelling.
And that is the beauty of a story.

Happy Mother's Day, friends.
I know your babies make your lives just as bright.

Joe Hobbs and Joe Burdette

2011-05-09T21:54:00.006-05:00

My grandmother lives on a great big hill;

in my mind it is a mountain, a grand monster of a mountain.

She and my grandpa have always called it "the hill;"

their underestimation of its grandness may have something to do with the

forty plus years they resided there together.

My mountain, their hill -- our family nest.

Their home encompasses everything I feel and know about West Virginia.

That hill celebrates all of the seasons:

gold and yellow in the fall,

grey and naked in the winter,

full of new life in the spring,

blooming in the summer -- it is symbolic of life itself.

My grandmother lives on a mountain of a metaphor.

The road winds up and all the way down,

with a sharp drop off that could take a flat Oklahoman's breath away.

Once I took Lucia up and down the hill and I kept thinking that I was going to lose the stroller.

It may have had something to do with my very paranoid post-partum-self,

or it could be just that steep.

My dad grew up on the hill.

He had a pony and some chickens and various dogs over the years,

one that I know had the name of Pluto.

Tricksy was the pony; the barn, where Tricksy lived.

The sweet building is no longer there,

and where it stood, the grass and trees more plentiful now.

It was summer and then fall,

then winter came and then the spring woke again.

Spring is transforming to Summer and my Grandpa is in those budding trees.

Dad used to walk us up to that spot -- the three of us as kids -- and tell us about his pony and his barn,

the barn that he built with his dad and his grandpa in 1966.

Remnants of the fence were left for many years, I can still see them in my mind.

I have always loved hearing stories of my father's childhood.

The barn was the summer of my dad's life and the start of a big part of him,

the mountain size part of him that can now build anything and everything.

Hammer and nails, a gift from his Grandpa Joe Burdette.

This Friday Morning

2011-05-07T00:38:00.004-05:00

I excitedly reminded Lucia that "Alison and Briar will be here in one week!"
She then questioned, "Are you sure, mama?"

Where does she get these phrases?
Here, there, everywhere.

Mother's Day Flowers?
She is enough for me.

Meiko, Piano Song

2011-05-06T11:04:00.001-05:00

Every little thing I do, I do for you
With every little thing I think, I thought of you

And I try so hard not to notice
I try so hard not to care
I try so hard not to know that you're not here

But I'm counting down the hours
And I'm counting up the days
I try so hard not to show this side of me

I'm jealous of the way they walk, the way they talk
Cause I don't think they know just what they got
I'm jealous of the way they look, the way they are
When I just wanna be the way we were

And I try so hard not to notice
I try so hard not to care
I try so hard not to know that you're not here

But I'm counting down the hours
And I'm counting up the days
I try so hard not to show this side of me

Well I try so hard not to notice
I try so hard not to care
I try so hard not to know that you're not here

But I'm counting down the hours
And I'm counting up the days
I try so hard not to show this side of me

This side of me

Video -----> here.

Green.

2011-05-05T09:59:00.001-05:00

I am writing about our first home tonight because

I have so many other things to say and cannot get them out -- tongue tied.

But these pictures make me happy.

These pictures of the place of who we once were:

It was as bright green as could be and made us happy.

That being said, I would not re-paint a room that color,

unless maybe I had a little boy.

The turquoise in the kitchen, I did love it too.

And, I miss that couch;

it was so great until I spilled a huge blob of ink on one of the cushions.

Remember the many ice storms

we endured there, Mateo?

Maybe it was just one?

One too many either way.

Grandpa Visiting My Class

2011-04-30T22:28:00.022-05:00

Ever since my grandfather passed away, my grandma has been the fairy godmother of good mail. I have arrived home from various a day to find packages of sundry on my porch.

She has sent pictures from my childhood --
grandpa holding all of us as babies;
all of us dressed up in New Year's garb in the middle of summer,
tooting horns and wearing sparkly this and that;
me at two or three clad in grandma's boots.

She has some of grandpa's hats, some sweatshirts and sweaters that I have recently belted and worn to work. One day I could still smell my grandfather in a red polo. One of my students, who lost his dad not long ago, told me not to worry, the smell would stay a while, even if I wanted to wash it.

Newspaper articles,
letters that she wrote him while they were dating,
memorabilia from Grandpa's days working at United Airlines,
one of his coffee mugs and other little things that she thought I would appreciate.
And I did.

She also sent a little IQ game, the kind you play at Cracker Barrel while you are waiting to eat. I took it to school and it is the biggest hit, especially with all of the boys. Of course, they are not reading Gatsby while they play, but they are at least quietly intrigued with something. I bet this makes my Jack smile. Maybe he is offereing me some advice for the classroom -- get some distractions for those kids.

I miss you, Grandpa.
Here I am, today, in one of your hats at the Arts Festival with our little light, Lucia; I know you loved her so much too. Thank you for the mail, Grandma. I love you.

Shane: God is Gracious

2011-04-28T22:29:00.005-05:00

We have had a quiet week.
While I have wanted to be strong for my husband,
it seems like he has been having to comfort me more often than I have him.
I want to talk; he goes within himself. How very introspective he is.
I want to cry and figure out why; he wants to sit silently in a pensive state.
I want to pluck the thoughts from his mind, piece by piece.

He strongly relies on his faith
and encourages me to do the same.
In my efforts, I have been seeking joy;
I want to hear it in every whisper and see it in every smile.
I believe that Shane would have wanted good to come from all of this.

And I found something today: something good, something joyful.
This something would make Shane smile,
this something made me smile,
and this something made my husband smile when I shared it with him.

Having wanted to write Shane's sister for days upon days, I finally reached through my dread and let my fingers roll. I have been tongue-tied and aprehensive for fear of saying the wrong words.
In her response she helped quiet my heart.
For a moment I could stop looking for the joy because I found it,
God answered my need through her.

In her little note she relayed her wish to keep the bond of Shane's friends and family alive.
I heard her.
And then I started to listen.
God was trying to tell me something.

Here I am forging a friendship with his sister,

perhaps meeting for dinner and drinks with our husbands very soon.

Here I am exchanging texts and pictures with Alison,

while I have always quietly relied on Matt and Shane to bridge the two of us together.

And here is my husband,

sharing friendship with another of Shane's friends, Lance.

All week they have been exchanging messages,

their best friend tying them together.

Do we have Shane?

No, but we do have the gift of his people.

We have his family; we have his friends;

and, I am confident that he is orchestrating these arrangements.

From the single friendship between two boys

comes a web of connections, tight bonds and true love.

After all, the meaning of Shane is

God is Gracious.

Sunshine in the Rain

2011-04-25T14:32:00.000-05:00

And my bright yellow ~~uniform~~ sweater.

Love this little girl.

Thanks for capturing the good stuff, Matt.

Early Morning

2011-04-25T06:54:00.007-05:00

The Easter Bunny brought Lucia a princess watch; she will not take let us take it off of her wrist.

Yesterday I do not know if she had much of anything healthy to eat. I finally had to hide the candy and tell her "ENOUGH!"

I was awake and shaking my anxiety-ridden foot this morning; in Matt's sleep he rolled over and kicked my leg -- his not-so-subtle way of telling me to stop.

The night before last, Lucia made it to our bed in the middle of the night, like she has been doing very often recently. At about three in the morning, I was wide awake between my baby and husband. I decided to crawl out from the covers and occupy my restless mind in the other room. Not even a few minutes had passed and I hear a faint cry and Matt saying, "Lucia, Lucia?"

She fell out of the bed and he woke to darkness, emptiness beside him and a crying that he could not reach. I heard him recover her from the fortunately-pillow-covered-floor and they quickly fell back asleep.

The next day he was joking and said, "she would not have fallen if you would not have gotten up; it was your fault." Mostly he was just teasing me -- he knows I am a sucker for guilt, plus he hates me getting out of bed in the middle of the night; it is like I am betraying him for the couch.

So this morning, after he kicked my foot and clearly needed me to be still, I got up again; even despite his need for me to lay there next to him. Of course, let me not fail to mention, that once again, I was between husband and child.

This time, just so he knew, I whispered, "I cannot sleep; Lucia is right here beside you."

He replies in question,"Is she going to fall out again?"

"I don't think so. I just wanted you to be aware."

"So you can't sleep and decide you wake me up?"

I cannot win.

Briar and Lucia, an Easter morning photo exchange between Alison and my husband. The girls, so sweet. 900 miles apart or more, but lots of love as they stand side by side. They have no idea yet. Shane's baby Briar.

My thoughts are with Alison and the rest of the Keim family. I think about Shane's sister and mother and feel fortunate that they have their spouses to lean on, like I have mine. But I also know that little can ease their pain. Then, I think about Alison and her heartache and wish that I could do something, say something to sooth her. I only want to mend her broken heart and put Shane right back beside her. I do not understand and I want to have an answer. This is so much bigger than I.

"Now we see things imperfectly as in a poor mirror,

but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.

All that I know is partial and incomplete,

but then I will know everything completely,

just as God knows me now."

1 Corinthians 13:12

I am mad that I counted on Matt to keep in touch with Shane and Alison throughout the years and that I never reached out before now. It is true, I was always there and loyal to our friends, listening to stories of them, meeting them on holidays and enjoying their company when Matt and Shane made plans. They were our people -- our life long friends and I took that for granted.

But now, but now, I want to sit with Alison, flood her with phone calls to check on her. I love her more now than I did before, though the love was already great and our friendship already existed. We were their wives. I realize she needs us now more than before and we need her now more than before...

"A friend is always loyal,

and a brother is born to help in time of need."

Proverbs 17:17

Matching.

2011-04-24T21:38:00.002-05:00

This is Matt and I on Saturday morning;
bed-headed, teary-eyed and missing Shane, thinking of Alison, wanting things to be different.
I made Matt put on our matching kimono tops that my grandmother sent us;
they belonged to her and my grandpa.
I wanted to try to make my husband smile, if only for a minute.

And it worked, for just a minute, at least.

I thought Shane would surely get a kick out of this photo,
as would my grandpa;
they are both smiling from heaven....
Well, let's be honest here, Shane is making fun of Matt and Grandpa is smiling.

Oh, dear...

2011-04-24T21:10:00.001-05:00

I never knew that Shane was such a big deal in my life.

Everyday my husband would come home from work, walk through the door with is head set on, saying "alright man, alright, well I will talk to you later.... I just got home...."

Everyday of my life.

Every evening of my life.

I knew what Alison was doing, what Briar was saying and what jokes Shane thought were funny.

Tonight Tanner brought Matt a really expensive bottle of Scotch. It sits on the counter about a fourth of the way broken.

I ask Tanner how it is done because he has done it all before when he lost Trevor. How do you let a loved one go? How will this pain ever cease? He says it does not; he does not know, ebb and flow. He is supposed to have wisdom; he is supposed to come over and wipe the pain away.

We have been crying all day. Matt told me to stop talking about it earlier. I tried. But it keeps spilling out of my mouth.

I called Alison. I cried some more.

She cried.

I want to carry her burden for her, just collect the pain from her mind and heart and stitch her back up and make her whole again.

Why does she have to bear this pain? Why?

I wish I were a drinker, a smoker, a something that could numb the pain; I need a band aid for the moment, but the pain would just creep up again. It would come back and probably with more vengeance.

Why a life so short?

Solider on? It is not me that I am so worried about, but those that loved him so much that their hearts are on the floor in a million pieces. I know Shane is okay; I know Shane is in heaven and is experiencing music and happiness and no pain. I know someday he will meet Alison and Briar again and it will not feel like a lifetime has passed, but until then, they have a lifetime to live.

Best Friends

2011-04-24T09:50:00.003-05:00

I never had the best friend that Matt did.

I secretly envied their relationship.

I moved; we moved a lot and I never lived in a place long enough to forge from-the-beginning-to-the-end-of-time-relationships. I had other gifts from my parents, but I never had the life long friend. Yes, good, good friends, I have had, but not the diaper-wearing-together, brace-faced-experiencing, best man in my wedding kind of friendships.

They were lucky.

I want to walk backwards, tell Shane to never go to sleep because he is going to die, tell his parents, tell his wife. I want to tell them it will happen and let them fix it. I want to go all the way back to the Friday before last and never see that Saturday again.

I want to hold my husband like it never happened, like he just spoke to Shane a few hours ago and everything was well in Spearfish, the little place that Shane loved.

I want to talk to Matt like we would see Shane, Alison and baby B in a few months, just like we were planning on doing. I want to continue begging them to move back to Oklahoma, somehow convince them that our neighborhood is perfect for them, and if not this one, then to at least get one with a pool!

And I want Briar and Lucia to be best friends because their dads were, because Matt and Shane will still take them on them on camping trips like their dads took them.

I want to hear Shane hound Matt about having a second child, telling him that we have to keep all of our kids close at age. I want to hear him laughing and telling Matt to stop spending so much money on vinyl and I want to hear it all in his one-of-a-kind voice. I want to hear Jack Johnson and not be sad because it reminds my husband of Shane.

SHANE!
Why did this happen?
I want you back and you were never even mine,
but you were Alison's love and my husband's best friend and Briar's daddy and Danielle's brother, and Josh's brother-in-law and your mom and dad's little boy -- even if you were thirty.

And I loved you too.

I wandered lonely as a Cloud

That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd

A host of dancing Daffodils;

Along the Lake, beneath the trees,

Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --

A poet could not but be gay

In such a laughing company:

I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude,

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the Daffodils.

--William Wordsworth

Good Friday

2011-04-22T12:35:00.003-05:00

Words from Others

2011-04-20T10:57:00.002-05:00

I do not have a whole lot to give right now. I feel so sad and lost. I am clinging to faith and the idea that this recent death is greater than me; that even though I do not understand it, it is not meant for me to understand. It is God's wisdom and God's way.

Words of others keep helping me too. I spoke with my mother-in-law for a long while yesterday; we talked about heaven and death and friendship and grief.

I spent the evening with my friend, Katy; she grew up with Shane and Matt; we laughed and cried and played with Lucia.

Lucia... she helps so much; one of life's great joys and distractions - a child. I almost wish Matt had her with him because she is great comfort. My friend, Nina, who has the daughter, Ayla, of the same age as Lucia, gave good advice when she wrote to me:

"Hang in there and do lots of smelling your Lucia's hair

and soft toddler foot rubbing.

Ayla's have gotten me through many a rough moment..."

So true. God knew what he was doing when he gave us the gift of babies. I keep thinking of Alison and am so glad that she at least has her little Briar. Everything would be better if she had Shane, but the bone-chilling truth is that she does not.

Another of my dear friends wrote me a message yesterday that made me feel

better. Right now words bite but are also what I am clinging to.... and love.

hey sarah,

i read on your blog that you are going through a hard time, with death having visited your life twice in just a few weeks. i'm very sorry for your losses, especially that this last one was so unexpected and seemingly so unfair. i wanted to write you because i related to all the questions you had in your post because they were all questions i once had as well many years ago when I went through a sudden death of a loved one. strangely enough, i had been thinking about that event on my bus ride home today, before i even read your blog and i haven't thought about it in a very long time. very peculiar.
there is rarely anything to say, in times of grief, and too many words can be annoying. grief is strange and has a timetable all of its own. but i will say that i think that there are probably few things that challenge our outlook on life and our beliefs about life as much as the experience of a truly random (and yes, absurd) death. nothing can explain it, it makes no rational sense, and you just wonder why, why, why. i think that then one arrives at a great philosophical dilemma, a kind of fork in the road. you can forsake your belief in the good in life or the sense in life and dive deep into the nothingness of meaninglessness and the absurdity of randomness....or you start or deepen the belief that there is simply so much meaning and order in the universe, that it is simply so huge and awesome that we cannot understand it with our limited human brains. i think there is truth in both explorations, and perhaps one has to explore both directions first. of course, we will never really know which is true for sure. but eventually, someday, it doesn't hurt quite as much and you find yourself cradled in a mysteriously peaceful understanding that though you still don't know why, you, strangely, also don't need to know why anymore. and you befriend this not-knowing. which is faith. and you accept all that is and was and will be. no life without death. god is either everything or god is nothing. this is the kind of experience where i think you make that choice. everything or nothing.

i know you guys will pull through this. if you get lost in the darkness, turn around and face towards the light. it will be there.
____________________________

I love her.

Teary Mess

2011-04-18T22:46:00.009-05:00

On heartache and loss and a blank mind and mouth. Words that cannot come out from my finger tips because typing them would make them more real; the real hurt and pain that nobody wants to feel. How can someone be in heaven and be happy if the loves of their life are on earth? Are they his heaven? How can God take someone so young and sound? So full of life and breath and fresh air? Why does my husband have to feel this pain? Why does his wife? Why do his parents? His sister?

Why is the only thing I keep thinking is that it is just not fucking fair. Soap cannot wash that dirty word from my mind because it is not fucking fair. There is no antibacterial strong enough -- nothing to take ninety-nine percent of the pain away. There is nothing lady like about death. There is nothing clever about the repitition of this "f" sound -- screw you, alliteration. The gurgling and gulping of life in one full swallow; Matt says not to slirp; I say death should not steal.

It is the kind of pain that robs you blind in the middle of the night and leaves you carved out and hallow.

My husband lost his best friend Saturday night; he fell asleep and did not wake in the morning.

Shane and Matt: a friendship that I have always envied now devastates and breaks my heart; it must forever be celebrated and cherished.

Behind Shane, still here on earth, are his daughter and his wife and his family and my husband and holes and memories and heartache and happiness and laughter and grief and confusion and questions.

How can this be?

How can grief fill a person up so much?
I, on the outside looking in, how can I feel this pain?
I feel guilty for my grief, while their pain is immeasurable, limitless.

Where will the grief go? Is the void always there?
Do we acclimate to the hollow feeling that is his absence?

If death is an act of love, why is this pain being felt by so many?

Will tears forever flood the faces of those he loved?

Will "why, why, why" ever not be asked?

Will there be peace in the hearts of those that miss him?

This is true agony. True pain. True love.

Why do I feel like shaking my fist at God?

Too young? Not enough time? Who am I to say?

But why? And how, how can this joy be taken from them all?

I love you, Matt.

Matt loved you Shane...

and because he did, so did I.

Best friends.

Thankfulness and Heartache

2011-04-14T22:30:00.002-05:00

So thankful for little pig tails

and my darling that sports them.

So thankful that Matt cleaned the kitchen tonight,

even though he had a really long day.

Wish I could find my green cowboy boots,

have you seen them?

Thought a lot about Jack today;

thought about he met my little Loo-chee-a twice.

There is a shot of him holding her and grinning the biggest size grandpa smile ever.

I need to recover that photo from the box that it somewhere hides; I need it out with me.

Someday I imagine telling Lucia about my Grandpa,

her great-grandpa,

much like my grandmother tells me about my great-grandma.

Why is it we spend so much of our lives taking

for granted the presence of someone so special?

I always knew Grandpa was there,

out there on his hill or

down there by the sea at Myrtle Beach.

Why is it that I feel so robbed that he is gone?

Is it because I knew he was there and thoughts of him

were always in the back of my mind?

He was always there
and I knew it.

I think of the last day that I saw him.

It was almost a year before his death.

Lucia and I came to visit around St. Patrick's Day.

He insisted that grandma take us out and get that child a green dress;

she had to have a green dress, period.

He would always be waiting for me to get arrive from the airport,

sitting in his sun room listening to the radio.

He would ask me about my flight;

he would fix me a drink,

but not to "contribute to my delinquency."

Is he waiting for me now,

on the other side?

Is he relaxed and enjoying himself?

Free of pain and sorrow.

Happy with is music and radios and memories?

He is waiting, I know it.

He waited years at a time for me to visit West Virginia;

he will wait years for me to find him in his new home.

I remember him often picking up the other phone

and saying hello when I called from Oklahoma.

"Well hello there Sar-ie."

I can still hear his voice.

I do not want to forget it.

I asked Matt if can still hear is grandfather's voice?

He hesitates,

wanting to tell me what I wanted to hear,

and responds with a "yes, yes I can."

It is like he has been ripped from my chest.

I bleed smiling memories for him.

How is it that people face death everyday?

Loved ones?

Children?

Parents?

I do not know.

I just know that I miss my Grandpa.

See you again, Jack.

Until we meet again.

xoxoxo

The Morning Winds Spread...

2011-04-13T14:42:00.000-05:00

The morning wind spreads
its fresh smell.
We must get up and
take that in,
that wind that lets
us live.
Breathe before it is gone.
--Rumi

On a Tuesday

2011-04-12T20:02:00.008-05:00

On this particular Tuesday,

I came home to a nice big fat envelope in my mailbox;

it was stuffed to the brim with photos.

My grandmother collected an assortment of pictures

from the very pages of her albums, sealed them up,
and sent them to me to sift through with love.

She said she could tell I was hurting for Grandpa when I called her last week;

and as soon as she got off the phone with me,

she sealed up some memories

and drove down to the post office.

I know she is hurting for Grandpa too,
her husband for more than thirty years.
I wish I could do something to lift her spirits.

And how insightful she is,
right about both things:

I was sad last week when I called her
and the photos did make me feel joy today -- so happy.
I smiled through the entire batch and probably looked at them a dozen times each.

And even though I miss my Grandpa,

I love looking into his past
and sensing his happiness.

He looks so cool.

Grandma looks like he is lucky to have her - stylish and beautiful.

They look like the couple that everyone wants to be friends with...

that couple, you know them.

Lucia checked out the photos over my shoulder

and held her cup of tea (sand).

Scarlett at my other side, covered my shirt in hair.

xoxo

Yesterday

2011-04-12T06:49:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's work day was rough --

to sound cliche as hell, it was a roller coaster ride.

Major blow.

I came home and told my husband the story,

showed him a chain of emails that retold the events and I had his full support.

I already felt better to have him in my corner.

Something about your husband saying,

"You did the right thing," makes everything better.

Then, Lucia said the word neighborhood and it tickled me to no measure.

"Go walk around the neighborhood?"

She demanded she ride her tricycle

and not in her stroller.

So, I pushed her around her neighborhood

in one of those mommy operated trikes.

She did not say a word the entire time.

We got home,

I made dinner while listening to records

and Matt and Lucia played.

We ate together as a family.

Bath time.

Horton.

Night, night, baby.

Matt and I watched some shows on the couch.

I emailed my grandma to check on her.

What could have been a dreadful evening

because of my very long day,

turned out to be quite calm and nice.

Thanks hubs and L.

xoxoxo

*Loving this photo sketch by my husband.

Heart swoon!

Starlet

2011-04-11T19:26:00.001-05:00

To entirely different views of our daughter.

One sweet and quiet, the other demanding and fierce.

Today after work, she asked me to "take walk around neighborhood."

She never ceases to amaze me.

Amaze, I tell you, amaze.

Grandpa George, my Jack.

2011-04-06T21:51:00.008-05:00

Today I kept one his driver's licenses in my pocket;
it was issued in 1997, expired in 2003.

I kept pulling out the card and studying his picture,
mulling over the details printed on a four by three.

Charleston, West Virginia, a place he spoke of with much pride. I can hear him singing "The hills, oh the hills, oh those beautiful West Virginia hills" as he saunters through the kitchen to stir something on the hot stove. Or maybe he is perking coffee for me?

He loved to play chef,
though play is the wrong verb because he was a talented culinarian.
One of the last things he made me was Waldorf salad.
I have his Julia Child cookbook.

Sometimes in exchange for song, he would whistle while he strolled.

His whistling,
the creaking floor below his feet,
the yellow kitchen chairs -- is it those I hear creaking and cracking and not the floor?
Or is it both?

Green Blinko tumblers -- the ice rattles, then clings as it hits the bottom.

More whistling.
The low roar of the radio in the other room.

I kept looking at his birthdate and reminding myself that he had a long, good life.
1928.
My grandfather was born in 1928.

I came along in 1981. He lived a lifetime before I ever even cried.

He had three boys that he loved dearly.
I was his girl.

I only lived in West Virginia until I was five-years-old. I spent a great deal of time with my grandparents -- pictures, stories and memories fill my heart. My parents always took us "home," at least once, if not twice a year. As I grew older, I would sometimes stay for weeks at a time with G and Jack. Sometimes they would take me to their "udder house" --the name dubbed by my child-self -- in Myrtle Beach.

I did not see him daily or as often as I would have liked
and right now that very fact is killing me.
I always knew that he was there though.
And I knew that he loved me more than those damn hills.

And now there is an ache, and emptiness that I cannot fill.

I think of his room, his empty chair;
I think of his radio untouched;
His glasses where he left them;
His pillow where he last slept at home,
I want to bury my head in it.

I like that I am reading his social security number
and it starts with the same digits as my own.

He signed his name GW Jackson Jr.
He was six-two.
Handsome.
He always smelled of fresh after shave,
one of my favorite scents.

When I feel this hollowness,
this aching that I do now --
this aching that I have never known,
I then imagine my grandmother's sorrow
and it hurts even more.

Grandpa, I am missing you tonight,
I hope you know.
And I love you.

Lucia & Matt//Spinning Records

2011-04-05T21:54:00.001-05:00

This evening Matt and Lucia had the house to themselves.

When I arrived home, I found the duo sweetly eating pizza and watching Horton.

Then, the best moment of my day slapped a smile upon my face,

as I discovered a Facebook message thread that my hubs posted while I was gone.

A record of their moments together...

Musical selections laced with his commentary:

Lucia and I are spinning records.

Now playing "Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let it Roll)" by George Harrison. Next up, "You Don't Know Me" by Ray Charles.

Musicologist in training; we will get into some Parliament later.

Avey Tare: Ghost of Books

Lucia is dancing in circles.

Flying Lotus and Thom Yorke: ...And the World Laughs With You

"Baby wanna dance" she says as she swings her doll around

Queens of the Stone Age: You Can't Quit Me Baby

"You gotta red record"

Os Mutantes: A Minha Menina

We are getting into the groove now!

Pixies: Where is my Mind

"bye dada", Lucia is now hiding in the book case cabinet

My Bloody Valentine: Only Shallow

"I like the music, dada"

Parliament: Supergroovalistic-Prosifunkstication

"Daddy dancin'; you funny"

LCD Soundsystem: Us v Them

"I shakin' my bootie"

TV on the Radio: Dancing Choose

Non stop dancing!!! Coolest kiddo ever

Finishing out Lucia Fest with The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger: Shrodinger's Cat

I have sufficiently worn her out; now for my next trick... pizza then bedtime!

I hope my little girl will always love listening to music with me.

My perfect pair.
So cute.
So musical.
xoxo

Monday Merriment: A few links for Swimsuit Season

2011-04-05T07:05:00.000-05:00

Lovely swim suits a la J. Crew.

Oh gosh, this Thursday, I finally get some of this again.

Love this cardigan; I guess I am into J. Crew today.

Urban Outfitters never disappoints.

Buy me these pants, I will wear them to work with some big fat wedges.

More Lonny Layers...

2011-04-01T08:46:00.001-05:00

want

to live in these rooms.
Roll around in their colors.
And rub my head in their textures.
Sounds kinda sexy, right?

Happy Friday.

All images via Lonny.

goodbye, march

2011-03-31T19:35:00.003-05:00

sickness

health

death

birthdays

weddings

showers

family

hearts

sunshine

visitors

rain

tears

laughter

joy

more birthdays

celebration of life

death

celebration of life

marriage

celebration of life

peace

fear

love

sorrow

change...

today i keep thinking about my grandpa.

..... he would want me to welcome april.

goodbye, march.

Lonny Love and Layers

2011-03-31T13:55:00.002-05:00

If you have never visited Lonny Magazine, you should. It almost fulfills my Domino need, many years later. My only dilemma is that I want to rummage glossy pages with my finger-tips and dog ear corners. I love the internet, but I love print more. I guess I am old school. Nonetheless, I have been enjoying some beautiful Lonny images. And it is a truly inspiring place/magazine/online periodical.

A few favorite kitchens and living rooms that I have recently pinned are below. I especially love the layered looks of the rooms. And, just when I start feeling insecure about my own decorating, images like these give me a definite pick-me-up... an elixir with a good dose of be yourself, Sarah.

am/pm

2011-03-30T19:35:00.003-05:00

everything looks so quiet.

the day was cold and dry.

tomorrow will be warm, i hope.

little girl at my side.

husband at the other.

my grandfather told me about twenty times

over the weekend

that i remind him of scarlet o'hara.

i'll take it.

photographs courtesy of my resident photographer, husband.

Mark and Marriage

2011-03-28T20:46:00.011-05:00

Inquiring minds, my sweet feather crown was purchased from Red Velvet Art.

I bought it a few months ago with my little brother's wedding specifically in mind.

The weekend was full of friends family and joy.

A lovely event and memorable occasion.

The church where Matt and I were married over six years ago.

Twinkle lights, branches and music.

Favorite Song from the evening: Adele, To Make You Feel My Love.

I remembered hearing it previously in the film, Hope Floats.

So pretty, remember?

Happy Monday,

I am trucking through with happiness in my heart.

xoxo

Sarah

Goodbye...

2011-03-21T08:57:00.001-05:00

In many more ways than one.

I will return to my dear little blog after saying goodbye to my beloved and most charming grandfather in Charleston, West Virginia. This is by far the most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my life. I will miss him greatly and the grief I feel is heavy. I have no other words.

I leave you with this, in his honor:

I love you, Jack.

Until we meet again.

Source: Sea of Fertility Blog

Calligraphy Invite:

2011-03-20T09:50:00.001-05:00

I recently made these rehearsal dinner reminders for my mother. She wanted calligraphy. I delivered. I think she was pleased. Each invite was wrapped in a vibrant hot pink envelope. Lots of fun!

xoxo

Sarah

Ringing in the Second

2011-03-19T10:05:00.004-05:00

Chuck E. Cheese Round Two.
Family.
Pizza.
Lots of noise.
Happy Birthday, Lucia.
You are so very loved.

More Greetings!

2011-03-18T07:28:00.003-05:00

I hope everyone had a lovely St. Patrick's Day. Green beer? Not here. But, we were clad in colors of the shamrock.

My dearest friend Katy came to visit us. Lucia says her name in the cutest way, almost as if calling her "Kitty."
.....Where Kitty go?

For the first time, Katy witnessed several melt downs. To say the least, it was one of those evenings that extended way into the night. As I type this morning, Lucia purrs beside me in my bed. I almost fear the tippy-tap of the keyboard will wake her. I am hoping not, baby girl needs some sleep!

Below are two more pretty St. Patrick's Day Greetings that I made this year. I hope the receivers were happy with the green they found in their mail boxes.

Do you have any fun St. Patty's traditions?

*Update: As I was pressing publish, Lucia woke. She said, "Mama, I want hot dog."

Approximately seven am.

So much for sleeping late.

Grandpa Jack

2011-03-17T15:33:00.008-05:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2011-03-17T13:51:00.008-05:00

I recently commissioned a batch of mixed media cards for a very special friend. I have been waiting until St. Patrick's Day to showcase them on my blog because a handful are for said holiday.

Here is the first of a few I want to share:

Under Construction

2011-03-17T10:22:00.002-05:00

Hello! I am reorganizing the site.

Please disregard the mess and come back and visit soon.

Braised Peas

2011-03-15T20:36:00.009-05:00

Inspired by Jamie Oliver and his Food Revolution, I set out to make the green dish of peas, lettuce and scallions for our dinner tonight.

I do not think I have yet mentioned my admiration for Jamie Oliver. (I always get obsessed with foodies and health gurus; previous and continuing infatuation with Jillian Michaels, Natalia Rose and Michael Pollan).

Oliver is setting out to change the way America thinks about food. As an advocate for children everywhere, he is trying to push schools back to the basics, back to health, back to scratch cooking. Being a public high school teacher, I will be the first to say that the cafeteria options leave a lot to be desired. Daily food is processed and frozen; healthy options are few and far between.

At large, from what I have gathered from my Oliver studies, even more than pushing healthy school lunch programs, the chef wants people and families to get back to their kitchens and find joy in cooking meals. Eat at the table. Enjoy food together. He is even inspiring people everywhere to start their own gardens, including my own family. This summer equals an eight by twelve experiment of growing veggies in our backyard.

Though tonight's dinner did not come from a local garden, I still think Mr. Oliver would be proud.

Lucia sprinkled the flour and poured the vegetable broth, all the while talking about the "fire under pot." I chopped scallions and cabbage, (my last-minute substitute for the romaine lettuce).

Toddler verdict, I quote, "Is Good." She loves peas, but I think she enjoyed this dinner even more because she helped make it. My verdict: flavorful, filling and delicious. I love the bit of salt with the slight tang of the lemon. I read another version of the recipe online and it called for fresh mint, perhaps next time I will give that a go.

Recipe below. Give it a braise if you are ever in the mood for a hardy green dish that is sure to be a crowd pleaser, even if two is your crowd:

Instructions via Jamie Oliver, Better Homes and Gardens Recipes, April 2011 Edition:

Add about one tablespoon of olive oil to sliced scallions over medium heat. Cook for a few minutes, until the onions soften a bit. Meanwhile, slice the lettuce leaves, saving a few tender inner leaves to add at the end. Turn up the heat and add the peas, sliced lettuce, and a pinch of salt and pepper. Cook for about one minute, then sprinkle in the flour and stir until everything is lightly coated. Slowly pour in the stock, then cover and turn the heat up to high. Cook for four minutes or until peas are tender. Add the lemon juice. Scatter reserved lettuce leaves atop the braised dish of greenness.

Ingredient Round Up:

• 1 BIG teaspoon flour
• 1.5 cups of organic, low sodium vegetable stock
• 6 green onions, finely sliced
• 1 bag of frozen peas
• to romaine hearts, sliced
• juice of 1 lemon
• good-quality extra virgin olive oil
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

For Japan

2011-03-15T14:21:00.000-05:00

I am the type of person that gets easily overwhelmed by the disasters and wars in our world. Sometimes at night, not able to face the truth, I selfishly turn my back to the news and seek lighter entertainment. The happenings of our world are daunting. I want people to get along, I want people not not feel pain.

Recently unable to shake thoughts of Japan and simply not able to switch off the television, I found the following prayer, written by John Piper of Desiring God:

The power of moving water is greater than most of us can imagine. Nothing stands before it. We are driven to our knees:
Father in heaven, you are the absolute Sovereign over the shaking of the earth, the rising of the sea, and the raging of the waves. We tremble at your power and bow before your unsearchable judgments and inscrutable ways. We cover our faces and kiss your omnipotent hand. We fall helpless to the floor in prayer and feel how fragile the very ground is beneath our knees.
O God, we humble ourselves under your holy majesty and repent. In a moment—in the twinkling of an eye—we too could be swept away. We are not more deserving of firm ground than our fellowmen in Japan. We too are flesh. We have bodies and homes and cars and family and precious places. We know that if we were treated according to our sins, who could stand? All of it would be gone in a moment. So in this dark hour we turn against our sins, not against you.
And we cry for mercy for Japan. Mercy, Father. Not for what they or we deserve. But mercy.
Have you not encouraged us in this? Have we not heard a hundred times in your Word the riches of your kindness, forbearance, and patience? Do you not a thousand times withhold your judgments, leading your rebellious world toward repentance? Yes, Lord. For your ways are not our ways, and your thoughts are not our thoughts.
Grant, O God, that the wicked will forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts. Grant us, your sinful creatures, to return to you, that you may have compassion. For surely you will abundantly pardon. Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord Jesus, your beloved Son, will be saved.
May every heart-breaking loss—millions upon millions of losses—be healed by the wounded hands of the risen Christ. You are not unacquainted with your creatures' pain. You did not spare your own Son, but gave him up for us all.
In Jesus you tasted loss. In Jesus you shared the overwhelming flood of our sorrows and suffering. In Jesus you are a sympathetic Priest in the midst of our pain.
Deal tenderly now, Father, with this fragile people. Woo them. Win them. Save them.
And may the floods they so much dread make blessings break upon their head.
O let them not judge you with feeble sense, but trust you for your grace. And so behind this providence, soon find a smiling face.
In Jesus’ merciful name, Amen.

Source: A Prayer for Japan, John Piper

I cannot help it, Matt...

2011-03-15T11:17:00.001-05:00

I like country music. You should ask me to dance.

Zac Brown Band, As She's Walking Away

Wood and Iron: Six.

2011-03-13T21:44:00.001-05:00

Matt and I rang in our six-year wedding anniversary on Friday.
Six.

Six.
Six.
Six.

I celebrate with enthusiasm. I sing the praise of six. Six. The number of the day. The year.

My favorite thing about my husband is that he is my daughter's father. I loved him long before she came into our lives, but watching him love her has made my love grow more. Nothing in this world compares to the connection that they have -- it is something so great to witness and has made my life all the more rich.

Number two favorite thing: Matt lets me be. He is not hard on me, he does not make arduous requests, he does not put crazy demands on me. He takes what the day brings. He is calm. He is smart - so smart and witty. Three. four. five. six.

Today I said to him, "You spoil me."

He replied, "That is okay."

Happy Sixth, husband.

I love you.

Birthday Baby

2011-03-09T20:18:00.005-06:00

She is two today.

It breaks my heart a little,

and makes me happy all at the same time.

It seems like only yesterday we were holding a tiny baby in a hospital room:

Then she turned one and wore my favorite dress:

Where do the days go?
Next year at this time, we will ask ourselves the same thing.

What a little girl we have,

our pockets bountiful with blessings.

***

Matt and I took her to Chuckie Cheese,

where they house slot machines for wee-ones.

Kids drop gold coins in

silver-plated boxes and listen for the ching,

and wait for the lights,

becoming more energized by the second.

She loved every last minute.

She had sprinkle cupcakes and a party at school.

Barbie dolls,

a hungry caterpillar,

books and shoes.

She sported a blue and white check skirt,
with tulle underneath;
striped leggings
and a ruffled white cardigan.
And I shall not forget her Mary Jane's.

"It's my birth-day!"

"I two."

So excited all day,
she knew something special was in the air.

After dark, we all three laid in the quiet living room,

looking up at the shadows of stars cast from her new night light.
"Moon, stars, stars...
My Stars."

It was hard to let the day go.

But in those tiny moments I knew that all was right in the world
and I felt so lucky.

Happy Birthday, baby L.
To the moon and back.

Where have I been?

2011-03-08T19:28:00.006-06:00

Making cards, collecting scraps, hanging out with family, doctoring my husband (sort-of), planning a second birthday, attending wedding showers for my brother, forgetting things, panicking a bit, trying to take it easy, enjoying the rain, planning to come back to blog land soon. Pics of all the goings-on to come.

Until then, a picture: these are my two brothers Mark and Brian - the two reasons that give me pause when I consider Lucia being an only.

And tomorrow my daughter turns two. Friday is my sixth wedding anniversary.
It's kinda of a big week.

joyfully gray

Friday Night: Stepping Out

Stripes + Polka Dots = Happy Thursday

Happy Valentine's Day

Week :: end

Lu-chee's Closet: Mix of Thrift and New

Cards & Love that I have Made

I Do Calligraphy!

Love + Crayolas + Stickers. Part Dos.

Love + Crayolas + Stickers

Week-ending.

Lucia's Closet: When she dresses her cute self!

#febphotoaday

Diapers and Pull Ups and Big Girl Panties

Disney Princess Play

Lucia's Closet

I feel so Wonderful, Wonderful

Lucia's Closet, Take One: She Wears Gifts

My new Pants, Saturday

Hilarious Stuff She Says

Where//Wear

Recently hubs and I ....

A Strong Liking for...

Colourful Weekend

Weekend Internet Surfing - Immensely Enjoyed:

Pictures of Quiet on a Saturday

song of a beard

Something I never leave the house without...

A Song for the Day - one of my favorites

And we are off...

Merry Christmas, World beyond our home

The Holidays and thoughts of Loved Ones

Beautiful little bit via Free People Blog

My FAVORITE POEM. EVER.

The Bell Jar

a few of my favorite things

Blog. Write. Blog. Write.

Three years ago today.

Self Portrait

Favorites moments with her lately

Heaven and such...

My Morning Jacket

Weekending

At Thirty

Her Dad

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

O v e r h e a r d

h e l l o m o t h e r w i n d

A & B

Chapters of Summer: Lucia's Words

Memorial Day: Music Monday Madness

Prague on Facebook

Luca AckermanI went to ISP graduation this morning and it made me think of my class, my experience, and my age...I just wanted to send my best wishes to those of you who graduated with me, and I hope to reconnect someday. My thoughts were with you today.

Do You Realize...

Shout Out...

Four A Em

Sunday Afternoon

Joe Hobbs and Joe Burdette

This Friday Morning

Meiko, Piano Song

Green.

Grandpa Visiting My Class

Shane: God is Gracious

Sunshine in the Rain

Early Morning

Matching.

Oh, dear...

Best Friends

Good Friday

Words from Others

Teary Mess

Thankfulness and Heartache

The Morning Winds Spread...

On a Tuesday

Yesterday

Starlet

Grandpa George, my Jack.

Lucia & Matt//Spinning Records

Monday Merriment: A few links for Swimsuit Season

More Lonny Layers...

Luca Ackerman
I went to ISP graduation this morning and it made me think of my class, my experience, and my age...I just wanted to send my best wishes to those of you who graduated with me, and I hope to reconnect someday. My thoughts were with you today.