So Cute!

The puppies are full sized now and WAY cute! They have an abundance of attitude and pretty much rule the house with their shenanigans.

Trigger and Dakota


Dakota fluff muffin


Dakota Clean and Shiny


Trigger all clean and shiny


Dakota King of the Sofa


Trigger Too Cute


Trigger


Dakota

Opportunity Knocks!

Ah, a new adventure emerges... My hubby and I have been house hunting for the last few months and as one of my friends would say ::le gasp:: I think we have found one. Strange how this seems to be the epitome of becoming a "real" grownup. Opportunity is knocking on our door. There are still three major hurdles to get through but a little voice is calling to me in a whispery little sound and it is saying "escrow....escrow.....escrow.....escrow" I have to make this short and sweet because I have barely slept in three days and I feel nauseas. I don't know why I am surprised, I usually vomit with anxiety each time we buy a car and good grief this is a much bigger deal than buying a dumm car! More to follow soon.........

A Quilt in Progress

Ok, here is the beginning of my new quilt project. I realized that I needed to start taking pictures of how the quilt evolved, not just the end product. I know it's "flashy" (: but so far it's been a "happy" fun project. Each fish and the seahorse will end up being hand beaded with seed beads. I know you can't really tell in the picture but the seaweed and sea grass are three dimensional with decorative threads and fibers and there are a dozen different batik fabrics that make up the outside border. It will end up being a wall quilt. I figure that if I keep plunking along I might be able to figure out what I am doing by the time that I am fifty~ I just wish that I had more time to work on it!
::wistfully daydreaming that I had a studio and that this was my full time job::

A Weathered Binding

I went to the library last week and checked out one of my favorite childhood books, "The Boxcar Children" by Gertrude Chandler Warner. I was elated to find the library copy was the same familiar red textured, worn book cover that I remembered from so many years ago. I am sure that if I could go back in time and pull out the thin yellow and tattered index card from its wooden cubicle that I would have checked this book out at least a dozen times from first through third grade. I doubt anyone would understand but I have been waiting a long time, for just the right moment, to share this story with my children. I wanted this to be something special between us. You know those rare moments when your children's attention is held tight and they are listening with all the attentiveness they can muster and you are truly connected for one extraordinary moment in time? No interrupting, no distractions.

I happily received pleadings to read just one more chapter, elated gasps of surprise, proud cheers and "oh no's" followed by clapping and teddy bear hugging at the end. I am deliriously happy that this book was loved by them just as much as it had been, and still is, for me. No, it is not some written miracle of a children’s book but it has the simple naivete of an era long gone. It is an adventurous and suspensfull storyline with an "all is right in the world" ending. We ended up reading the last six chapters tonight (almost two hours in all) without one potty break or fidget. I couldn't believe that much time had gone by! My oldest hugged me from the top of his bunk bed and told me that it was the best story ever. My youngest leaned out of the bottom bunk and held me extra tight and asked me if we could start it all over again tomorrow night. I had to smile. Henry, Jessie, Violet and Benny have lived on. My heart is warm and fuzzy. My love for books may be passed on to my children yet! Cartoons and video games be dammed, every once in a while the imagination still reins supreme.

Stuck in the House

Ok, I couldn’t help but post my other picture of this flower. It just makes me happy. I am home sick with pneumonia and this is my first morning out of bed for more than ten minutes. It is a beautiful day outside and I feel pouty that I can not go out in it. T and I are going to snuggle up and watch Winnie the Pooh and have hot tea.

Boulder and a Latte

I am forever jotting little things down on scraps of paper then tucking them away. This one came from a book that I must not have been in the mood to read. I love the way that I can be taken back to another place at some unexpected moment.


I am sitting at a retro coffee shop on Broadway just up the road a ways from the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder Colorado. I am enjoying a warm and toasty nutmeg spiked latte from a small shop that is extraordinarily busy for its small size. It's in an older strip mall that looks like it's been here for a hundred years and reeks of character and indiscernible sweetness. It has defied anyone's suggestion to spruce it's self up.

The weather has turned sharply chilly after a balmy eighty-eight degrees yesterday. The weather in Colorado can shift so quickly. When I left this morning I put on my winter coat for the first time this year and relished the change.

I navigate my way past the long lines and head for an empty table outside. Felix, a small black pug in a green plaid wool sweater keeps sniffing at my shoes. The woman at the end of his leash is at the table beside me contemplating the newspaper while sipping her tea. She occasionally scolds Felix for slobbering at my feet while tugging him back to her table.

A thick fog is laying over the valley in strange layers. The impressive mountain tops are hidden in its velvety gray cover. This latte is so good that I am wishing they came in a forty ounce size.

Boulder is such an eclectic mix of generations and social boundaries. It is surrounded by powerful mountains and fast moving rivers and streams. I love this place. I think it reminds me of Tumwater Canyon from when I was a child. I will miss this place. My senses perk up each time I am here and I feel vibrant and alive.

The is one of my favorite places to people watch. There are hundreds of college students peddling themselves off to future careers. It seems everyone in this town owns a bike. You have gypsy skirted, birkenstock bouncing, dreadlock dangling granolas with their soy lattes and basket woven purses chatting in groups past the tables of mountaineers outfitted in pure Northface fashion who sit planning their next thrilling adventure.

An older bearded man in a wheelchair, layered in thread bare clothes, is sitting on the corner asking for change from the patrons while uneasily glancing around him. No doubt he is on the look out for any "official" who will ruin his morning pledge drive. He is speaking in a muffled rambling way with a Vietnam Vet who is offering him a cigarette.

Just now a group of corporate elite swish past in three hundred dollar suits with recycled cardboard drink holders full of various drink navigating the lines with pleasant smiles and determined hurriedness. I am surprised to see one woman drop the change in her hand to the man on the corner. He dips his head in thanks and the Vet takes a respectful step back to let her pass. So much diversity and outward pleasantness. This is a busy and upbeat town.

Mingled conversations from the present and past blend with the fog. The sun peaks through from time to time. It makes the spectacular color values of the turning fall foliage gleam. The idea for a new fall quilt design sneaks into my subconscious. I smell the mountains and the streams mix with the scent of nutmeg and vanilla. I will miss this place. I Reached down to pat Felix goodbye and his owner again tugs him backwards and tells me to have a nice day. I button my coat and stop a moment to imprint the moment in my mind. The sights, the sounds, the view. To take it all in, one last time.

I have an appointment in ten minutes and it is my time to leave. We will be moving in a few weeks and this will be my last trip here for who knows how long. I search through my purse for change motivated by another's show of kindness making a mental note to be grateful for all that I have. I drop my change with a metallic tink into the rusty coffee can and bid the men a good morning. I turn and my seat is occupied by a young woman on a cellphone. I start my car and turn on the heater. Conversations fade behind me and left with them is a small piece of my heart.

Horror and Dismay

So, I was sitting the other evening, vegging out on the couch before bed watching TV when I had an earth shattering moment of reality. I was watching Law and Order, which I often do while my eyes get sleepier and sleepier. The show was half over. They had a scene in which one of the main characters is fixing his garbage disposal taking handfuls of disgusting goop out of the sink and depositing it into the trash. The son then says something about leaving his turtle in the sink….

I was off the dang couch in a split second screaming EWWWWWWWWWW doing the yucky dance around my coffee table feeling queasier by the moment. A split second later I was standing in my PJ’s in the middle of the living room frozen, slack jawed in horror.

I had just proved true, beyond a reasonable doubt, what media critics have been saying for years. We have been so inundated by violence in the media that we are becoming desensitized. The murderous rape and torture storyline of the show rolled off of me while I sipped chamomile tea yet the thought of a blenderized turtle unwillingly jolted my body right off of the couch in a squeal of disgust.

How revolting is that? I am dismayed and horrified. My subconscious needs an acid bath to thoroughly cleanse itself.

I am heading right now for the bookcase looking for my old VHS tape of Pollyanna.

A lifetime of daydreams...

It's an incredible feeling to watch someone's life long dream happen before your eyes. How many times in your lifetime do you think you get the opportunity to do something like that? It takes the breath away.

Let me introduce to you an old friend. Her name is Aimee. My little kindred spirit of the young heart. A warm and mesmerizing woman that has an artistic flare that stretches from the printed pages of her art to the depths of her very soul. I have watched her over the years grow into the most eclectic woman you will ever meet, secretive and soulful, kind and eternally youthful. Aimee is seeing one of her lifelong dreams come true. At this very moment the final pieces are falling into place. Soon, I will be able to "buy" her artwork. She has aspired (since taking her first breath at birth I think) to have her art brought to the world and that is now happening. I am so happy for her I could just burst. Now I will sit on pins and needles for her first book to be published.

Since I was twelve years old I have know that this would happen. I ALWAYS new that Aimee would make it as an artist or as an author. Now I have no doubts that she will do both. I am proud of her and excited for her and would like to take the opportunity to tell anyone reading this that I am! So here is a link. You can click on her gallery and take a look at some of her Art. The ability to "purchase" should be up and running soon. Can you tell I am excited!!! I am doing the "happy dance." for her. Congratulations Aimee!

(The link to her gallery is right beside her biography)