Not in a green mood.

St. Patrick’s Day is weird. I think I started hating it when the girls were small and we lived in St. Louis, which boasts one of the largest St. Patricks Day Parades in the nation.  Think this is a lovely family event?  You can bet on the blarney stone that it is one of the worst family events ever.  Admittedly,  the parade is fantastic and the amount of candy thrown is unforgettable.  Unfortunately, it was like taking our kids to a birthday party in a bar.  Everyone was drunk and loud, thinking it was hilarious that they were throwing their beer cans in the streets and peeing behind vehicles.  

Last year in Spokane, we made room on the parade route for a passed out man to be loaded in an ambulance at 10:00 am! The horses painted green seemed depressed.  No more St. Patricks Day parades for me.  

What other holiday  do people joyously pretend to be another ethnic heritage by flamboyantly “celebrating” that heritage’s negative stereotypes?  If you think about it, it’s a very odd thing to do. I mean, we could at least emulate their more flattering stereotypes, like being awesomely clever, awe-droppingly strong, and great at river dancing or knitting or something.

Even so, I am determined to conquer my winter blues.  Maybe they would be more tolerable if they were green.  Having the winter greens sounds kind of nice.  When I couldn't find my green food coloring (a leprechaun had hidden it behind the thyme and I found it the next day), I got creative and mixed watercolor paint in the toilets with a paintbrush.  We had corned beef and cabbage.   

I'm still more excited about Buzzard day. 

Chicken Pot Pi Pie......Happy Pi Day...March 14

This winter has been killing my spirit.  I need to find things to celebrate...even if it is a mathematic symbol.  I must be getting desperate.  Spring better come soon, or I may be celebrating buzzard day next week.  Oh, it's real....find out more here http://www.brownielocks.com/BuzzardDay.html  Buzzard pot pie?  Sounds good to me.

"Admit something:
Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”
Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise
Someone would call the cops.
Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.
Why not become the one who lives with a
Full moon in each eye that is always saying,
With that sweet moon language, what every other eye in
This world is dying to hear?"

Hafiz 14th century Persian Poet

I came across this poem today. I feel so 'cliche' when I admit that I love a full moon and I always follow the calendar of the exact dates the full moon falls upon.  I have always concluded that I love it because the world is illuminated in darkness just for a few days.  I treasure anytime that I feel illuminated in darkness.   Ansel has been tracking the moon in his class this month and it has been fun.  It is one of those experiences that reminds me of what an absolute miracle this world of our is.    I am in love with our universe.  I love you, universe.    

Ansel's 9th Birthday....March 6th

Ansel gave us no clue as to what he wanted for his birthday, if he wanted a party or a cake, or where he wanted to go for dinner.  We primed the pump with evocations for several weeks to no avail.  Finally, two days before his birthday,  his wishes came gushing forth at a healthy rate per minute.

"I am going to have a party on Thursday.  I talked to all my friends and they all said that Thursday works for them.  We are going to go play laser tag and then have ice cream and pizza and watch a movie.  I don't want a cake.  I want Krispie Kreme donuts in my classroom and here is a list of things
I want to get."

Wow.  If he is going to plan his own birthday party, I will give him all the Krispy Kremes in the world.

Despite my annoyance at the 11th hour decisions, I was grateful that his desires were fairly simple.

 Tom Sawyer and Awkward Pet Photo Calendar

 A Pen that Shocks you when you try to use it.  

 Emmy and Ansel laugh as Savanna gives it a go

 Skylander Giants

 Ansel gets a close up view of the gift

New Tennis Balls that actually bounce

Just because I love the look on his face

 Gonzaga T-Shirt

 His favorite......a coupon book made by Emmy, filled with promises such as being his slave for a day, teaching him to do something, cleaning his room, letting him pick the movie they watch, etc. etc.  Ansel's language of love is definitely time. 

 Again, just because I love his smile

 Headphones

 His second favorite gift.....A promise for a drawing of his choice from Savanna

 His doughnut cake....my favorite part of his birthday.

 His last request of the day:
"Mom, do you know what my ultimate birthday wish is?"
"What?"
"To make the most disgusting drink I can make"
"May your wildest wishes come true.  Go for it."

 PART II:  THE FRIEND PARTY

All you need is $1 dollars worth of dry ice and some rootbeer and you can make any boy happy

 One movie and one round of laser tag later............

 I love 9 yr. old boys.  They are so easy to please.  It at least puts a dent in the counterbalancing of how impossible it is to please a 15 yr. old girl.

My Cedar Chapel

 I have never found myself to be unhappy in the presence of an Aspen or a Cedar.  The Aspen is my gypsy free-spirited, light hearted companion, whereas the Cedar is my firm, immovable open-armed friend who can share my burdens.

Live the Questions

...I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

Rainer Maria Rilke

So begins a new era of my life.  The era of.... I couldn't load any new photos on my old blog and I have gone in circles with google storage, to no avail, and therefore must create an entirely new blog, which feels rather like a new season of sorts.

This Rilke poem is exactly how I feel right now in my life.  I don't remember when I began having so many questions, but they have been piling up around my feet and legs, these dirty laundry questions, for a long time now.  The days when I am searching for the answers are the days when I am unable to move and I wallow in the foul stench of my resistance to unanswered questions.  It is only when I can pick these garments up and clothe myself in the beauty of confusion, that I can move forward.

Savanna's art