the ginja ninja

My original baby has been away this past week. He was in the back country with seven other boys, hiking and fishing and camping. He caught and cleaned and cooked rainbow trout out of high mountain lakes. He played in waterfalls and said he didn't miss us at all. He even FORGOT about us. That makes me very happy. He said they laughed A LOT. 

 We could have taken him camping, but it wouldn't be the same at all. He got to feel his way among a new group of friends. He did everything HIMSELF. He earned a nick-name.

He went with these folks. I highly recommend!

I am, however, glad that the ginja ninja is back under our roof.

I like having all my chicks in the nest.

best things....free

Another riveting post, in the 'best things in life are free' series!

Yes, you do have to buy the coffee, but it's the can that I've always been in love with. Some might say that my style is eighties dorm room. I've always been a bit campy. I kept thinking that I'd out grow it, but it's not looking like it.

This hanging can thrills me.

string+can+leggy succulents=happy me

Matt says I should get a job.

camera shy

Have you noticed that I rarely show myself around here? I'm not much for being in front of the camera. I shy away when I see a picture of myself. For the record, I don't like the way my voice sounds on tape either. Hhhmmm. I'm going to sorta try to move past this. That was half hearted, wasn't it?!

The thing is, when I surf this cyber world and read all my favorite blogs, I very much like seeing the smiling face behind the words. It puts a real person with the name.

So here you go.

Hi.



It's me.

Do you love the garage? It was dry and hot late this afternoon. It felt good to run on the treadmill in the cool basement for a change. The bangs are new. I was walking by the mirror the other day and saw some scissors and voila...a new look. The thing about bangs is that you want them to grow out almost instantly after you cut them. I know this to be true, but cut them anyway.

This song rocked the end of the run today. When you're ready to quit and walk away, a good song can change everything. I've always loved this one. And I'm loving this easy click and listen grooveshark widget....look for more music in the future!

when i was little

They were sitting on the couch. It's a sectional. A big one. Plenty of room for everyone.

'YOU'RE IN MY BUBBLE!!!!' a child o' mine screams.

Did I mention that it was the end of a long day?

Bears mentioning.

'YOUR'E IN MY BUBBLE!' says other child.

This is where I need one of those black and white clapper things that directors use. It's my turn for all caps, at the very least.

'CUT!'

'You know what, you little urchins!? When I was little, We. Did Not. Have. Bubbles.'

Personal space was not yet a concept.

Because of this, my bubble-theshold is quite low. On an unrelated subject, I once smacked my sister over the head with a skillet because she said my Vuarnets weren't cool. Can you believe? Hell yes they were. {she's fine, OK} They didn't have cage fighting back then either, but we made do.

Have a good Monday y'all.

{oh my. I hope you weren't dropping by in search of an ethereal account of all that I accomplished this weekend. Instead I back hand you with boundary issues past and present! So sorry!}

the cousins and two glasses of wine

I made them stop in the driveway before they ran off to terrorize the neighborhood...which I condone!

It's Friday night and I'm feeling nostalgic. Cousins. They're the same ages and all so darling and precious. (give a southerner a few glasses of red and we get all sappy!) Seriously. They are all sleeping  outside in the 'crib' and I imagine they'll be hideously tired tomorrow.

But it's summertime.

And the world is sprawled out ahead of them.

And whispering long into the night is a big part of it all.

Questions asked, and answered, and pondered......

Who am I to interfere?

{this moment}....daddy haircut

Daddy and Della.

A moment to remember via Soule Mama.

what's for dinner? hell if i know?!

I said it the other day. I am losing the will to cook. I wish I could say that it's so hot that I can't bear to turn on the oven, but that's not the case. It's lovely here. I'm also very tired of cleaning my kitchen right now. I need some sort of zen mantra about the beauty of everyday tasks. About simple acts done with love.

Right at this moment, however, I would diss it. Just as my children diss making their bed because they're only going to mess it up again tonight. I so remember using that one. Is diss a word? Because my spell check is dissing it.

So what does one do when one doesn't feel like cooking or cleaning?

No, this isn't a post on fasting.

You get creative. (which takes more work than actually cooking, as I stop and think about it)

Yesterday I fed Max a cream cheese and hummus sandwich.

Did you make this up? he asked.

I stared at him for a L O N G time. This is where mothering can be fun, if you let it. If you have an imagination that runs wild from time to time and a warped sense of humor.

If I say yes, which is the truth, he is left a little low. Mom is scabbing together weird shit out the fridge again, he thinks.

However. There very well could be a story here. Right?

No dear. It's a classic. It was Big Bill Tilden's favorite and he ate it everyday. Tavern on the Green would run it over to him before his matches with a side of pickled beets.

Who's that, Mom?

Oh, he was a tennis legend in the roaring '20's, quite tall and very good, but he fell out of favor with some bad behavior and squandered his money financing Broadway shows that he insisted on starring in, but he's still considered one of the best to ever play the game. Back then they only played in tennis whites.

That's weird, Mom. Do we have any pickled beets?

Ha!

middle child

Lewis is my middle boy. However. A few years ago I stopped everything that I was doing and made a very conscious decision. I decided to no longer have a middle child. No, I didn't ship him back to Sears Roebuck. I just decided that he wouldn't forever get lumped into the Max Patton Show, starring the endlessly amusing first child himself, that was playing in all the theatres around here.

I gave Lewis his own stage, in my mind. With thick deep purple curtains and a balcony, where the mutual admiration society (Mom and Dad) could sit and shout 'Bravo'. I adjusted my thinking. And we've never looked back. I honestly think that in some small way my plan is working. There is nothing middle about this child.

He amazes me everyday. Of my children, he is the one most like me. Sometimes I can see his brain ticking through the options, logically, sequentially. He is practical. He's a card and can drop a zinger at the dinner table that has us all choking on our spicy peanut noodles.

He will only wear girls socks in bright florals. He dresses in all primary colors. He hates the morning. He is a great friend. He loves the girls. He loves comics and reading and drawing. He cusses occasionally, with a twinkle in his eye (my son, yes!). He can take 978 stop motion lego photos in a row, that tell a very elaborate story and clog up my iphoto like you wouldn't believe.

Just yesterday he joined us, it seems. But no, it's been nine years.

As a baby, he would keep his little hand on my cheek to make sure that I slept facing him.

He has always been an enthusiastic and willing sidekick. 

Max dressed like this EVERYDAY, BTW. (a bizarre force to be reckoned with, no doubt!)

This dead bird is still in his room somewhere.

Middle, schmiddle.

We get to choose these things, you know. 

For ourselves, For our kids.

Everyday we get to start anew and choose.

I'm going with disco balls and golden jaguars whenever I get the chance!

Because we get to choose.

kids

This is what I love about kids. This very sort of thing. They can find pleasure and amusement in almost anything. They don't need fancy this and that. There is something to be explored and learned at every turn.
My kids are big list makers and 'designers'. They will chart and graph and describe and list and fall away into their own little self made utopia. I found them the other day doing this.

They were quiet for hours. And happy. And they now have a much DEEPER understanding of this lowly coin. And where the hell is '09 and '77. Because they destroyed my home looking for them.

They ain't here, baby.

Ah summer....inside and out....it's all good.

{I am, however, losing the will to cook. What's up with that?}

how to paint a mural with kids

This will be a quick and easy lesson on murals with kids. Most folks probably are not like me. I will, without hesitation, give up my dining room wall to the higher call of art. No matter that the artist is a small child. A five year old..... my sweet Max, pictured here with his huge pet grass-hopper.  This mural is from a few years back, as Max is now 12. We are working on another one now, too, and I will post it soon, but this one is fun and the technique is so simple and no fail on the child's part. 

This was totally inspired by Max's love of drawing and all the odd little creatures and 'towns' and portraits that he would do at this age. He was a prolific drawer and each drawing had a story that he would explain in great length. 

One day, about 500 sheets of paper into this obsession, I gave him a pencil and told him to just do it on the wall. The dining room wall. And he did. See below. There was no plan or design, just the mind of a five year old holding forth.....all in pencil.

This is where Momma comes in. Hhhhmmmm. Of course, I loved his drawings. His anaconda, and our cat Woodles, the map of Mexico and Port Townsend, the vase of flowers for me, the alphabet and the volcano, his sister rendered as a sea turtle and a cat town. I also love lots of color and wanted to preserve his little drawings. 

Here's what I did. With my acrylic paints and water, Max and I washed color over the whole wall. We both chose and didn't worry about much of anything. Do be careful about the colors you squeeze out. Kids like to mix it up and it can all quickly turn brown if you're not careful. The main thing that mattered was that our paint was thin enough to see his pencil drawings through. It ended up looking like oil pastels, which I love.

Now. The next step happened while children slept. With black paint and a small brush, I traced all his drawings. This could probably be done with a sharpie but I wanted it to look painterly so I went with a brush. It took a while. Max was so excited to see his drawings emerge.

Max helped again with more painting and filling in. I coached him on how to mix colors and add texture and blend things together. It was a fun way to show him some techniques, as we worked together.

In the end, I came back with white paint and a small brush and highlighted lots of the black lines to make it pop and look more polished.

And voila! Very permanent five year old art. This could also be done on a large canvas. I always think that, with kids, the most important thing is letting it be their process and not the end result that matters. Sometimes, it's going to look awful. Be good with that. 

And sometimes.... it's going to look awesome.

Was he cute or what?!

happy father's day

Dad and his peeps!

Della painted some rocks and wrapped them beautifully.

Max made him a key lime pie. All by himself.

Lewis got him a little pack of scented candles to make up for how bad his feet stink.

The card said so. And some chocolate.

We played tennis, had a picnic of deviled eggs, fried chicken, fresh carrots and hummus, and fruit.

Then we practiced our head stands and other ninja skills in the green grass down by the river. All very low key. We came home and had key lime pie and called it a weekend.

And to my own Dad......love you so much! Can't wait to see you soon!

Hope yours was a good one.

{this moment}....shadow puppets

from here. thanx aunt nan!

                                              A special moment to remember via soulemama.

testing....

blatant hint!

I am spending the next couple of days working on some glitches around here. I will be back in full swing on Friday with {this moment}.

I am hearing from more than a few people, that are very blog savvy, that they are unable to comment on Durango Mom. Some say that a comment box never appears and others say that their comments are posted, but don't show up........hmmmm. Any input welcome, and if you are one of those people, I would greatly appreciate an email (address in sidebar).

Have I said lately how much you all mean to me. I love that I have 'friends' all over the world that I've never actually met, but feel such community!

Have a lovely week!

the best things in life are free

I made the mug in a previous life. A pre-kids life that is faint and fuzzy, but here is a relic to prove that it existed. My friend Rebecca still makes them...you can order one here.

Birthing babies aside, there is quite possibly nothing better in life than taking your hot coffee into the garden in the early morning. I turn on the hose and wander, coffee in hand, checking on the over night progress or lack there-of.

 Yes, I use bike tires for my hoops. Free and easy. The greens are happy in their moist little plastic cave.

Five kinds of tomatoes, peppers, beets, broccoli, carrots, pumpkins, cantaloupe, eggplant, kale, herbs, zukes and cukes, and more beets. I like beets. And the flowers, of course.

"White hyacinths for the soul." My grandmother always said that. Her garden was a treasure. My mother's garden is amazing. Mine is a hodge-podge. But it's mine. And it's sorta fun. Those are army men in that basket. I'll take you on a little tour soon.

Add coffee and you've got pure bliss. For me at least.

The reverie is usually interrupted by a knock on the window. Child A, B, or  C needing this, that, and the other.

But the day is off to a perfect start.

"If I had but two loaves of bread I would sell one of them and buy White Hyacinths to feed my soul." - Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915) 

How bout you? What's the best way to start your day?

the weekend

This weekend: We went to Vallecito Lake with friends. Can you tell that Lew is chilly? That, in no way, cut down on the fun factor. Kids don't seem to notice things like ice cold water and a strong wind.

On Saturday we went to the Farmer's market. We got lots of sweet carrots and some exotic tomato plants for the garden.

Della loved this booth called Cartwheel Clothing and got a reversible headband.  Jennifer, a mom and former teacher has so many fun designs. I love the reusable bags for sandwiches and such. You can see more here. 

Wheatgrass juice anyone? I love this pedal powered contraption.

 

The boys still love Legos and will spend hours making stop motion movies from camera still shots. You CAN NOT imagine how many lego photos are in iphoto on my 'puter. 1,000's. But they love it and are so diligent and precise in their creations.  

Do popcorn and milkshakes constitute a meal? I think yes.

Daddy was in L.A. all week with meetings and pitches for a television show. It went very well. He's a psychotherapist by day and aspiring TV personality by night. Did you know that? We missed him terribly, the kids can hardly stand it when he's gone, but we're excited for the possibilities.

  

The weekend ended on a crazy note with a mountain bike accident and rescue. I took the boys and our neighbor, Reid, down our little valley to look for an enormous crawdad (crayfish) that I had seen in the irrigation ditch when running earlier in the day. We didn't find him, but the boys saw fit to strip down to their drawers and have a grand ole time throwing mud and frolicking. Afterwards, we took the trail back home....a long, fast, and fun single track downhill. I was first, with Lewis behind me, until I heard the screaming. I'll mention here that Lewis is not a screamer. He's very stoical. I was a tad worried. 

I got back to him and he had taken a spill and, somehow or another, gotten the flesh of his thigh stuck between his chain and chain wheel. With all my might, I could not get him free. It was painful and bloody and we were stuck. I sent Max home to get Matt. I tried to get Lew in a less awkward position and relaxed. About twenty minutes later I saw our neighbor, Bill, driving hell for leather, up the 'no vehicles allowed' trail towards us.  He was the first person Max had come to, and was an excellent choice. He freed Lew almost instantly with some very painful, but effective back pedaling and pulling, and threw Lew over his shoulder like a sack 'o taters. 

We were home in no time flat. Lewis is fine. He just added a gnarly gash to his collection, but it was no fun, that's for sure. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Bill!

I hope your weekend was less eventful! And have a good Monday! 

  

{this moment}....the card sharks

                                                      Crazy Eights in the clothesline fort.

trash or treasure

If I had surplus income I would be a great patron of the arts. I love art and there are so many talented people all around us. As it stands, I pretty much have to make my own or count on my children to turn it out.

Except when the bizarre occurs, as it did this week.

I found not one, not two, but three oil paintings in a trash pile on three different days. And I REALLY like them all! Yes, the stars are lined up in my favor. We were driving down the street and there, propped against a fence in a rubbish heap was this.



I whipped the car around and leaped out. Oh my! It's folksy and cool and down at the bottom it says Mt. Sneffles, which makes it personal. I was beside myself!

The next day I was driving along and wham! Another one.

Freaking Fine Art this time. Look at the clouds and the mountains. Wow. Again, I threw it in reverse, and sent Lew to fetch it.

And yes, you guessed it, the next day, same thing. The kids were all 'not more art, Mom'. As if finding free art on the side of the road is a burden they can no longer shoulder. By this time, I'm contemplating opening a gallery. Look at this one. All moody and modern in a sixties kind of way.

Here they are all together. Do you love the sub-flooring in my bedroom. Matt had a fit and ripped up the carpet. I hope he'll have another one soon and replace it. The yellow chair was a dollar at a yard sale and it's one of my favorite things. Matt recently made me the red desk from some old metal frames. I love it. I sit at it for long stretches of time as I study this dry tome that I am beginning to fully wrap my head around.

Yes, I'll tell you very soon.

Did I mention that there is a nice sized snake loose in the house?

There is.

the hobo hankie

When I hit 'publish' at the end of this post I will be dis-inherited.

My mom will call her lawyer (my dad) and write me out of that will.

Bummer.

So here goes nothin'.

You know that I am from the South. Let's take that a step further, and say that I am from the DEEP south. We pride ourselves on words like genteel, and social graces, and appropriate. We are debutantes and sorority girls. I was a Chi Omega, for Christ's sake.

If you are from the south then you have absolutely NO IDEA what a hobo hankie is. Am I right? Yes, I am. Girlfriends, you are about to have a lightbulb moment. Take a seat.

About twenty years ago, I was hiking with my friend Beth. We were hiking up the back side of Mt. Owen, next to the Grand Teton. Of course, it was beautiful. We were hiking along when Beth leaned forward a bit, closed a nostril with her finger and shot a stream of snot out of the opposing nostril, into the tundra. I fainted.

What. Was. That?

That, girls, was a hobo hankie.

What is the application for this, you ask?

Let me tell you.

The hobo hankie is for when you are outside. Duh. When you are running or hiking or cycling or skiing and your nose starts to run due to physical exertion you don't have to stop and grab a tissue. You simply....blow. In the west, it's a common practice. We all do it. In the south, you would be SHUNNED FOREVER. Black listed. Ex-communicated. You would lose your standing in the community, as would your family, FOR MANY GENERATIONS. It's why we moved. I couldn't risk my entire clans' reputation. They're good people.

I am so not kidding.

What are some other things that we do out west that would make you a social pariah in the south?

1.   Pee in the yard...more often than inside...girls, too.
2.   Strip naked in front of large groups of people (i.e. in the grocery store parking lot) to put on your      bathing suit or your bike shorts or your wet suit.
3.  Us girls don't shave sometimes. For years at a time.

One time I was back home visiting and I was taking the kids to the country club to swim. It had been a while since I'd shaved. We were getting ready to leave and my mother stepped in front of me as I came down the hall.

"You will shave for your father." she said. It wasn't a question; she gives directives.

'But he's not even going,' I wanted to protest, but I knew that the stakes were higher than that. I would fall head long into black sheep status. I would be 'certifiably' different or just plain out weird to those less tactful. Believe you me, that's a load I can carry, but the country club was not the ditch I was going to die in. {As an aside, hairy armpits aren't NEARLY as obnoxious as certain un-named pool goers after their 4th gin and tonic!}

It wasn't an argument that I was interested in having, and truth be told, I'll take all the help I can get in the bikini wearing business. I shaved. And have continued to, except for some of those long winter months when 'going native' is swathed in several layers of capilene or wool. It comes down to pure laziness, yes it does.

What does this have to do with anything? Nothing. I was running the other day and my nose started running and the hobo hankie was employed and I got tickled with myself for no good reason.

And now I'm sharing.

The much loved black sheep....signing off!

the best things in life are free

Go here for this beautiful bird.

A bird feeder {or three} hangs by the kitchen window. There is a constant show. We notice them the most in the morning and then again at dinner. Someone will freeze and point.

"Mom, look!"

And I am always excited! It may be a hummingbird of unexceptional plumage that we have seen a thousand times, but by golly, A HUMMINGBIRD is nothing short of a MIRACLE. I love the crisp black and white attire of the aggressive magpie and the sassy navy plume on the jay. Tiny brown tweed birds bathe and flit by the front door and we are rife with garish orange orioles.

What a gift. I don't have to pay them. They do their table dances for free. We only have to admire. We keep the bird books by the window, more than one copy, so we can all fully appreciate where we fit into their flight plan.

Birds are free.

As Michael Franti sings 'the best things in life aren't things.'

The best things in life are free.

kickstart a friend

My friend Grant is going after his dream. And it's fun to see a dream that becomes reality. Grant has put years into this, a whole lifetime really, and kickstarter is a literal kick in the pants in the process. For those of you who haven't heard about kickstarter, it's an internet clearing house for funding creative projects. The concept is wonderful in that 'everyman' can support the arts and the creative spirit in small amounts that add up.

So check this out.



We talked today, and he's very close to his goal. So close. With kickstarter, you only get your funding if you meet your goal. (don't worry, no one pays up till the end, sort of like ebay for talent!)

All pocket change welcome! (click on the blue writing under the video to go to his site to donate)

Good luck, friend!

{this moment....summer, finally!

the best things in life are free

I don't think that I have ever mentioned this before. Which is odd. You might have gleaned it from things I've said. But I've never said it outright. So I think I'll say it. We live on a very small budget around here.

Why does this bear mentioning?

Because I hardly notice. I look around me and see abundance. I see the gifts that we have been given. I see love and beauty and opportunity. I see nature and mystery and an unfolding story that has no price tag.

My mother often said "You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

I've never liked that quote, and I'm a big fan of quotes. Big fan.

Because you damn sure can.

That sow's ear is a paint job or craft project away from silk purse status.

The truth is, the best things in life are free, but you have to be able to 'see' them.

More importantly, you have to stop and appreciate.

Starting next week, I will be doing a weekly 'best things in life are free' column. It will be about all the glorious things that are right before our eyes that are fabulously free, yet rich beyond imagining.

Words and pictures to keep us mindful of what is true and good. I will want your feedback and your 'best things' too.

It's all about perspective.

the sexiest weed on earth, or at least in my yard!