prayers

If you pray, and even if you don't, now is the time.

My friend and co-worker, Jenn Williams, is in need of support. Her husband Joe, is very, very sick with a rampant infection that started with a simple knee injury. He is in an induced coma and faces several more radical surgeries to eradicate the flesh eating virus. It's dire. They have two darling children.

But he's a tough one, and Jenn is the perfect woman to take up the battle with him.

Joe won't be in the hockey rink this week, but I have faith in his full recovery. Prayers to that effect are powerful.

Will you join in!?!

Please and thank you!

in the raw

There's nothing like waiting until the last possible minute. I do it all the time. My only resolution for the year was to bake a cake a month. And to contemplate the nude running. Both doable. But it's the last day of the month and I have, alas, baked no cake. So without further ado, I bake.

Or no bake, in this case. My sweet Lewis loves cheesecake. It's his hands down fave. So Tigs, this one is for you.

This version looks intriguing. It's gluten, dairy, egg and grain free. It's raw. And beautiful, too. Check it out!

You know I love that quote, too. Laura Ingalls is a favorite around here. We even named a child after her.

I found this recipe at this lovely blog. I like her simple style.

The almonds are soaking.

I'll let Lew review the final product for us.

Bon Appetit!

sunday inspiration

you choose!

                                                                             via etsy

the hidden garden

Aaahhh. We are getting more and more sun, and I am beginning to feel like spring might come again, despite last weeks grim assessment. For some reason, I need it more this year. I am yearning to dig and plant things. I want to hang a swing for Della and make hummingbird juice and watch for my favorite little friend. 

I will settle for just glimpsing my yard. Even mud will do.

I can be patient, though. We are supposed to long for our garden, aren't we? The anticipation can be a wonderful part of the process, if we let it. And that's true for so much in life. We can be fully present only when we are also being patient. Good grief, kids teach us this every other second.

The other day I was talking with a mom who was so very worried that her son had dyslexia. He's five. She thought he should be reading at a higher level. Again, he's five. I felt like a broken record. Give him time. Give him time. Give him time.

Enjoy him right now, right where he is, eat him up with a spoon, and don't push and don't worry, because that can't be good for either of you. Give him the gift of time. She couldn't hear it, you could tell.

He's only five. Let him be five. I have a five year old. They're a funny lot. There is no bucket list at five.

Or maybe there is.

Laugh. Love. Believe.

I believe that spring will come. I believe that my children will thrive and grow, much like my garden, in cycles and spurts and fits and bursts. They will also tuck in and percolate sometimes, their little minds hard at work in a way that we can't see or understand. And that's just as important as the other. I'll wait patiently. It's where faith and hope live. Down in the roots.

And in other news, we have a WINNER! The lovely Skater Girl print has a home. And the winner, chosen randomly from a mason jar, is....

Brigid Korce! Hooray for you! I will hand deliver. How's that for service?! 

last call

Do you want to make this? I don't think I do. But I LOVE looking at it. It's shouting "pure rainbow fun!"  The problem is, it's also shouting 'food coloring!'. Party Pooper, aren't I? If you want to make it, go here for the how to, and then invite me over. I'll bring three very excited kids! And we'll help you eat it, glorious food coloring and all, because I'm easy that way.

Truth is, I was only trying to get your attention to say this.

TODAY IS THE LAST DAY TO WIN THE DARLING SKATER GIRL! Go here to comment and win! Do it now, friends. (If you have emailed or called me to say that your comment was lost, never fear, I have taken note and you are counted!)

Will announce the winner tomorrow!

free range kids

Lewis and Della went on a little hike the other day. They took snacks in a backpack and played for hours in the sun at the base of a cliff near our house. They are good together. Lewis gets to be the big brother. Della is a friend, and not just the littlest, for awhile. I trust them both.

They came home tired and happy. Lewis pulled two beat up soda cans out of his pack and sat down at the table with paper and pen. He wrote about their day at the cliff and drew some funny illustrations. Della helped him. And then he penned this proclamation. See above. Which is weird.

And placed it in a prominent position for all to behold. Don't touch this, he said.

I'm not even thinking about touching it, Lewis. I said.

What does it all mean? Not jack, I'm guessing.

But, it is one of those funny reminders that briefly opens the window on the ways of a child, and shows me that I can't always presume to understand what makes my child tick, and that sometimes the best tack is to step back, and open the door for them to explore and meander and just 'be' on their own.

Lewis obviously came home with a strong shot of swagger.

And to quote Martha. "That's a good thing."

running

 I was going to write about running, because lately it has been on my mind... a lot. My stress fracture is healing and I am slowly getting back in the groove. But then I ran across this post over at The Little Red House and saw that Sheena has said it all already. She read my mind and wrote it first and I'm grateful.

The point she makes that is most valid, to me, is that in order to attain running bliss you have to break the three mile barrier. It's true.

Check it out.

What does running have to do with this custom Kitchen Aide mixer. Not a damn thing. I just had to post it because it's pushing the uppermost limits of the cool scale. I registered to win it over at Pioneer Woman. Me and 50,000 other folks. Which reminds me! Please go comment to win the Skater Girl. You have till friday! (lots of comments were lost, check to see if you were one of those!)

small things

Hello Moms. You do know that the Magic of Childhood rests ever so gently in your hands. It's true.  It doesn't take money and it doesn't take much time. Let yourself remember what thrilled you as a child. I bet it was the small things. 

My mother kept a bowl of polished rocks in the entrance hall. It was magical because she kept it full of water. Those shiny, wet rocks were every bit as alluring as a tank of tropical fish. On special nights she let me sleep with a her fur coat. Every now and again she would make us coffee floats after school. Oh, the danger and delight of that creamy grown up drink. She would serve them on a tray with beautiful napkins and a flower in a dish. So simple. But she did these things just for us, her children, for no good reason other than love. She tucked ceramic frogs around the bird bath, and filled small nooks in the yard with pansies. She put fresh flowers by our bed and sang to us. She cross stitched my name on my favorite shirt. A small thing.  

It's my turn now. These are little things. I believe in little things. They fit together and add up.  A child, large or small, only knows that they feel special and that they are cherished. That's a big thing.  

We live in a fast, fast world. It's sad to see the bright light of childhood hooded with all these silly electronic devices that primarily serve to isolate, and the drone of a near constant media barrage. That's another post that I'm not sure you want to read. But now, more than ever, maybe, I wish for my children the small magic revealed in a pat of bright green moss just off the trail, or a glass heart with the morning granola. 

Mom holds the key. (Dad has another set of keys, that are wildly important.) And aren't we lucky? Tom Robbins said, "It's never too late to have a happy childhood." 

I've already had one. Thanks Mom. I'm shooting for three more.

sunday inspiration

Wheatfield via Poppytalk

Lame BR

image via poppytalk

 My bedroom is yuck. It's an homage to the early eighties, and I can't think of much good to say about the early eighties when it comes to residential architecture. It's also a rental, so I can't rip out the fake wood paneling or the salt and pepper fake brick fireplace surround. Sometimes I don't care one whit. Sometimes I need a redo. Today is one of those days and this is what I'm thinking.

Paint is an amazing invention and I'm thinking high gloss bright white. If you've read me long, you know that we are perched in the shadow of a mountain. That means no direct light for much of the year and still buried in four feet of snow. No more dark walls. I am O-fficially over it. I am also all about color. So this sun colored yellow is singing to me. It's singing 'window trim'. Loudly. It will nicely accentuate the dingy carpet.

And we need a headboard. Have for years. I'm not sure about the love business, it seems too perfect, but maybe so. We have a stash of barn wood that Matt has been hauling around for longer than is healthy. It's hundred year old heart pine from his mom's barn and it's scattered throughout the house. Here, for example. It would work nicely for the headboard. I really want that blanket at the bottom of that bed. I will tiptoe very quietly right on over to House Tweaking, snatch it up, and tell them thanks for the nifty tutorial. They'll never miss it.

So, that's the plan. Will post pics. Don't hold your breath, as the list is long. Have a good weekend.

via Poppy Talk

Give Away!

When I first saw the skater girl painting that is in my header I squealed and emailed Cathy Nichols, the artist, right away. Can I use it, I begged. She said yes! I ordered one for myself and she graciously donated one to share with you. How nice of her. The print is beautiful, rich and vibrant, and signed by Cathy.

Here are a few more of her paintings that I love. You will find them in her etsy shop!

And the beautiful Skater Girl can be yours! For your chance to win, just leave a comment below in the comment section. I will randomly choose a winner next Friday! You have a whole week to leave that comment. If you would like two chances to win, leave a comment and subscribe to Durango Mom. The button is over on the right. Thank you Cathy and thank you, my readers!

P.S. If you posted a comment before 12:00 noon on Friday, it was lost in cyberspace. I am so sorry and I think the problem has been fixed. Please try again, as I don't know who you are, only that lots of comments were lost!

Yesterday I hiked down the drive way, and there was a very special something waiting inside the mailbox. And that something is for you! Make sure you join me on Friday for an awesome give away. I'll give you a little hint. If you like the Durango Mom mast head, you'll like this give away.

green grass and snow stairs

My mind is ambling on ahead. We were talking about subnivean creatures in kindergarten the other day, about the life that forges ahead under the snow, and I got hung up visualizing green grass. We were overnighting at Cascade Lodge at the base of Engineer. The snow was deep. The sledding extraordinary. And my mind was drifting towards spring.

We hiked down the hill to investigate the snow caves that the older kids had built and slept in, a few nights previous. There was a snow village really. Eight separate caves, a fire pit, trails and even stairs.

Spring is NOT just around the corner. A night in a snow cave with my middle child would probably dispel any delusions I might harbor. This weekend. I'm not sure why this sounds so right. I suppose it's akin to 'hair of the dog'.

I'll let you know if it works.

And maybe I'll just keep digging till I hit green.

granola

The other day I opened a cabinet and was terribly disturbed by what I saw. On the shelf, sat eight opened boxes of cereal. The packaging alone was ridiculous, and even more problematic was the fact that they probably would never be eaten because they were all pretty much gnarly. I'm not talking Cocoa Puffs and Captain Crunch, either. These were 'healthy' and for the most part organic. But what a waste!

Earth to Ivey! It's time to make my own!

I gave some thought to what I do and don't like in my morning cereal, and then blessed fate intervened and showed me the way. Which is to say that I ran into my friend Carla Borelli at Natural Grocers and she told me exactly what to do! Carla was the baking genius at Absolut Bakery in Mancos for years and years and her granola is rich and wonderful.

I pounced on her.

And she shared her secrets, and now I share with you! Bearing in mind that granola is a very personal business, this is a template for you to follow. I do not like 'sweet' in the morning. I do like sesame seeds. There are thousands of variations on this theme and you are only limited by your own creativity! This is my version with Carla as inspiration.

Seedy Granola

Preheat oven to 325 and cover two large baking sheets with parchment paper. Mix together the following:

4 cups rolled oats
4 cups rye flakes
1 cup sesame seeds
1 cup chopped almonds
1 cup sunflower seeds

In a saucepan stir together the following ingredients till melted and bubbly, then add to the above dry ingredients.

1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup safflower oil (or any high oleic oil)
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 tablespoon cinnamon

 Carla says to mix it all in a kitchen aide and it will get nice and clumpy. I did not do this and mine was NOT nice and clumpy. All the same, spread the final product on baking sheets in a thin layer and toast until golden and fragrant. This should be between 15 and 25 minutes. Stir occasionally and be careful not to overcook!

The final product is delicious, but I am already contemplating the next batch and what I will change. I rarely follow a recipe for long. FYI, the kiddos and husband thought there were too many sesame seeds, so maybe a half cup there and some pecans and coconut thrown in....Carla says walnuts, too.

I have tree-cycled all those boxes, fed the contents to my sparse winter birds, and am thrilled by my big jar of granola goodness! Because there are so many variations on this theme, I am including a link to Miss Ray and her take on it, just for the sake of comparison!

Happy Breakfast!

Bold

Lewis has a new girlfriend. For an eight year old, he has a pretty good grip on romance. It's so innocent and sweet. There isn't much to it at all, except for the declaration of the thing. He came to me the other day with a grin from ear to ear. I think she likes me too, he said. The news came via a friend, as I remember to be the case in third grade, 25 or so years ago.

He got a Valentine's card from her. I like her style. She's bold. And sassy.

May we all take a cue from a third grader on this day of love! Throw caution to the wind and say it with vim and vigor! Unleash your inner poet! Take a minute to tell those you love, just how much, and in a special way. Sing it, dance it, bake it, write it, recite it. Today is the day!

And sweet little girl, may you always have such gusto!

sending out a few!

Friend, this one is for you. :) Available here.

Granne, (my mushroom loving mother in law!) I send you some fungi love! Go here to read all about it!

To my owl-loving mother....Owl always love you! This print is so wonderful that I had to order it! You can, too, right here! "Home is where our story begins." No truer words ever written! via poppytalk

Sister O Mine, because you already have the hippest and coolest of cards and such, at your very fingertips (go here to see her store) I instead send you a jar of good health and growing fun. These will help you live forever and that makes me happy. There is not much on this earth more pleasing than the lowly mason jar, to my mind. Sprouting is super easy and super bad cool. Go here to learn how! love you!

 This one is self explanatory. Love you guys! via homestead.


And finally,
Kate Spade always does it with flair. Her free Valentine's E-cards are darling. Go here to send one!

More love tomorrow!

friend

It's a big week for LOVE with Valentine's and all. I love LOVE. I love this holiday. Pink and red are so snazzy together, then throw in some orange and you have a real party. Hearts are awesome, too.

But.

I have a friend and her heart is hurting. This makes me sad.

I have so many wishes for her.

I wish she knew how stunningly beautiful she is. Inside and out.

I wish she knew how strong she is.

I wish she knew that she DESERVES the best.

I wish she understood that alone is OK, even good, and it is not forever.

I wish she would take the time to heal.

She has precious children. I want the moon and the stars for them.

But we've all seen the bumper sticker.

"If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

And, unfortunately, it's true. Cornball, but true.

She doesn't 'read' me so these words are wasted. But I tell her all the time. It just so happens that I believe in love, and this girl that I'm talking about is flat out destined for goodness.

She's got it coming, but not with this guy or this situation. It's a cruddy week to ditch your man, that's for sure.

But sister, hear this, as I beam it out there. It's time. It's time to jump on the freakin' brakes and whip it around. Scoop up those young 'uns and double down.

That's all I've got. I feel a little better. Cross your fingers!

Valentine's dinner

the water buffalo of love

On Sunday night we will celebrate Valentine's with a special family dinner. We eat together every night; it's the most important thing we do as a family, but Sunday will be extra special. I notified my people that they were each in charge of a course. The fighting began.

Lew is vying for drinks and dessert, as is Della. I hope they will find a compromise. Della wants to scrape the center out of oreos and replace it with whooped cream. For Lewis, it's all a huge secret. How can I buy it, I ask, if I don't know what to buy? He's doing it, he says.

Max is hor d'ouvres. I made him spell it. And explain it. He's making sushi.

I am main course and I'm thinking braised short ribs with mashed root vegetables...they will be pink.

Matt is still deciding. Some foliage, perhaps.

The decorating is the fun part. Lots of candles and music and flowers and my signature random strangeness. As a child, I collected paper weights. I had some real beauties. I dug them out of the attic at home a few years back and they add a touch of wonder to all occasions. I pulled out the red and clear glass ones for my Valentine's table. The kids love arranging them and we added some felt hearts just because felt is so awesome. Lew purchased the red water buffalo with his own money at a festival this summer. The purchase paid for one little girl in Africa to attend school for a year. He is very dear to us and is our official spokesman this Valentine's. Last year we had a squirrel. Yes, we are different.

who's in charge of polishing the candle sticks around here?

What do you do for Valentine's? I'm always on the lookout for the next great idea!

let them eat cake

I so love the looks of this cake. It's just sitting there on the table looking all white and boring, and nobody is too excited, and then you get out the Reed and Barton Francis the 1st sterling cake server, because you got not one, but three of them when you got married, and they should be put to good use, by golly, and anyway, you cut into that plain old white cake and Ta Daaaaah! The cutest heart you've ever seen has snuck inside to thrill and delight!

Oh dear. Did I write thank-you notes for all three of those cake servers? That was A LONG TIME AGO. The statute of limitations for thank yous is one year. Did you know that? My Mom drilled that one in for sure. You're actually supposed to write them right away. Uh huh.

Matt and I eloped. We were hoping to avoid some of the hoopla. Somehow or another it didn't work. We got way too many gifts. I remember standing in the bridal registry department at Rich's in Atlanta. Mom had laid out the directive for me to go and choose a sterling pattern. But I live in a van, I said. She's a smart woman and knew that one day I would live in trailer and might have use for utensils.

So I stood there in the silver section in cut-offs and indian moccasins, and perused patterns with a very stately woman in a pale pink suit and panty hose and pumps. She had a clipboard. Well, I am nothing if not a walking contradiction, and she was befuddled when I quickly steered away from the plain and simple, to the quite formal and ornate and rather expensive.

I went back and forth. I, of course, took into consideration what silver was already in the family. My mothers' and both grandmothers'. Mom thought it would be wise to replicate one of these as they might be split at some point, and it would make a whole. She wasn't so optimistic about my prospects, I suppose. Neither was Miss Bun On Her Head sales lady. And that's neither with a long I.

OK. Let's do this thing. It was between Francis the First and Repoussee.  If you want to go research some flatware, now would be the time. Suffice to say, these two are mac daddy. The stuff of kings and presidents. And why the hell not? Go big or go home, as Joe Kenworthy would say.

I finally chose Francis the First. It's stunning. "Really? Are you sure?" said she.

She was thinking, "Who the hell is going to buy Pocahontas a butter knife?"

God Bless that patient woman and her clipboard. She probably worked on commission.

And if so, she got lucky that day.  Do I have full place settings for twelve? Yes I do. Every serving piece ever thought of. Check. Extras? You know it.

We use it every day. It does not live in a box, as is proper. It digs in the dirt and catapults English peas. It  wages an ongoing battle with the disposal.

When the president comes for dinner, we'll be set.

In the meantime, my little kings and queen will use it.

P.S. Somebody bake me that cake, because I have not a clue! image via projectwedding

on weekends she wears a tail.

Tomorrow is a big day for some folks, and while I am not at all vested in the big game, there are some aspects of it that I enjoy.  If you haven't figured it out already, cozy could be my middle name. I love feeling cozy. I love good smells coming from the kitchen, a glowing fire, and the whole family gathered 'round in a festive mood. We don't do much TV watching, so it will be a treat to scream for a team (who's playing?) and watch some funny commercials. We can be very enthusiastic spectators! And the Black Eyed Peas are rockin' the half time. We WILL be dancing!

Because I really don't care about the game, I've decided to set up a Valentine crafting fandango on the dining room table so we can make darling little goodies and watch at the same time.

And of course, there will be plenty to eat.

So this is where I link you up. There are lots of lovely ladies out in webland that are far cleverer than I, and I am grateful for their fun ideas. I will be bringing you more Valentine ideas throughout the week, some my very own, but for now check these out!

A sweet design for little hands.

This is a free printable if you just want to print and snip.

Love this! And so will my kids!

My Tiggy is all about a festive drink. This will thrill him...and me!

Max is all about his new email address. I will email him a Valentine...this sweet little video, and bake the ending, if I can pull it all together!

Some people groove on chocolate....yeah me too. Check this out.

And a word about fox tail girl. She's had it on all day. And Max sleeps with it during the week. And I keep picking it up and looking at it and trying to figure out if it's real or fake or what, and where the HELL it came from?! Honestly, shouldn't it ring a bell? It's fabulous and I love it and it reminds me of one of my favorite kid movies, Fantastic Mr. Fox. I hope there's not a tail-less beast wandering around and lamenting his loss on my account.

Have a lovely All!

long story short

Long before kids came along I had a life. It was a very different life and I can't even begin to compare the two except to say that the first, unbeknownst to me at the time, was preparing me for the second. After I graduated from college I was only clear on one thing; I was free. I loved to travel and I loved change, but I wasn't sure where that would lead. Along the way, I met a cute guy.  We spent ten years 'on the road'. I know my parents were beside themselves. I was a sorority girl from a nice Southern family. Those don't, typically, morph into gypsies. And while my friends were building careers and families and homes and fortunes and dutifully contributing to their retirement plans, I was, well, just all over the map.

I was making pottery with a group of amazing women in Athens. I was tending voodoo lilies at a rare plant nursery in Michigan. I was waiting tables and eating well all over the country. I was living in a tent by a creek in Jackson Hole, in a flop house in Portland a block away from the best bookstore in the world. We would criss cross the country for any reason at all and when that got old, we would hop on a plane and do the same in Europe. Along the way we worked and made friends and found our way. And while our bank accounts were never flush and we would push them to the brink of zilch in our travels, we were making serious deposits in another account.

What account is that? I'm not sure what it's called. The 'unflapppable' account? The 'I can go anywhere and do anything at anytime' account. The first hand 'isn't this world amazing' account. The 'wow! we are all so different, but wonderful' account. The 'I'm scared, but let's dive in head first' account. The 'oh, I get it, there's nothing to be scared of' account. The 'a stranger might just be your next best friend' account. There is really no explaining it and not everyone thrives in the face of uncertainty, but in our travels we found joy around every bend in the road. We met extraordinary people. We lost the fear that is usually associated with the unknown and found in its place excitement.

At times, I was worried that this wouldn't translate into the real world. That we would come up short. What fool takes their retirement first.  These were the grindstone years. The dues paying years. We had nothing of monetary value to show for any of it.

However.

The hardest I have ever laughed was in a hotel in Tangier, where Matt and I shared a room with a fellow traveler. The whole town shut down at 6:00 PM, and by shutting down I mean that the power grid is offed. No lights. No running water.  Decidedly un-American, it was. We were hungry and tired. I have no idea what got us started, but I will never forget the dark room, the thick stone walls, the uncomfortable beds, that man chanting in the alley, the toilet that wouldn't flush, and the laughter so insane that it hurt. As soon as we would calm down, someone would utter some foolishness and it would start all over.

 Or.

It was late late late... after a shift at a very authentic Italian restaurant in a tiny western town. A fellow I worked with, as all American as my brother, sat across from me as we ate our employee meal and said, out of the blue, through tears, that he thought he was gay. The Gin Blossoms were playing on the radio. Allison Road. He couldn't tell anyone else. We hugged and cried. 'It doesn't feel like it right now, but it's going to be fine.' Or something like that. I don't remember what I said exactly. That night I drove toward the mountains and stopped at the river. I threw my sleeping bag down on the bank of The Snake and fell asleep, worried for my friend. I woke up in the night and there were three moose just feet away from me. I could have touched them.

Thousands of beautiful 'snapshots' spread out across the years.

And then.

They pulled into Port Townsend, WA. They knew not a soul. It was as quaint as it gets. They had their cat, Ruby, a frantic yellow dog named Wilma (who would drink her weight in salt water AND get hit by a car the next day...but be fine) and about $600 dollars in the bank. They were staying in a cute boarding house on the beach, and would look for a place to live the next day, after a visit to the vet, of course. It should be interesting. A cat, a dog, next to no money, no jobs....and the girl six months pregnant to boot....

That other account was full. We saw only the Excitement and Joy of our situation, that others might have called a predicament. We found a precious house for $500 a month. How could the landlady turn away this couple bursting with hope. She couldn't. Matt went to work. They furnished the tiny house with yard sale finds and lots of candles. They kept the wood stove burning and hunkered down for the nastiest winter in Washington history. With the promise of spring, a due date approached.

Words can't express. On a gray day in May a red headed little boy was born. Never have I known such a  love.

And with a storehouse of laughter and tears, the three of us set out on the next great adventure. Every toothless grin was as fascinating as the medina in Fez. His fat warm baby body in bed between us was sweeter than all the pastries in Paris.

What's crazy, is that every day I am still in TOTAL awe and three kids later that account is bursting.

Cashmoney? Not so much.

Wide eyed wonder? I can loan you some.

bear in mind

(via bearnnakkedd)