The Michelle Journals

New Year's Resolutions...

2012-02-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

I'm usually so good at New Year's Resolutions.

After the beautiful chaos and clutter of Christmas, I'm ready to dejunk, detox, and de-whatever else has been making me crazy over the previous year.

But this year was different.

We had just moved into a 1960's fixer-upper and the to-do list was so overwhelming that the new year came and went with nary a resolution being thought about, much less written down.

Then there was the whirlwind trip to the mainland: visits, Chicks, errands, dr. appointments, etc.

Then back to Maui to make up for being an absentee mom: LOTS of cooking and cleaning, seminary, homeschooling, damage control, more remodeling of said fixer-upper.

Phew...just now catching my breath.

Now, about those resolutions...

I have decided that this is the year of simple.

There are just a few things I want to write down so that I have definitive goals in mind.

Before the year ends I want to:

1. Read more books.

2. Hug my kids more.

3. Spend time, not money, on things that matter most.

4. Move every day (my body, not my house.)

5. Treat everyone I meet like they are the most important person in the world.

There.

That's it.

Chicks in the Sticks...it's tiiiiiiime!

2012-01-02T03:57:00.006-07:00

Well ladies,

it's that time again...

That's right.

Time for Chicks in the Sticks...

Twenty twelve, baby.

I've promised for a loooooong time that I would share pictures from Chicks.

And true to form...

two years later,

here you go.

Prepping some gifts for the girls.

In case you're wondering, the prep is a

sleep-deprived,

sugar-induced,

glorious extravaganza

of creativity.

Just my cup of tea.

Truth: One cannot be clean and creative at the same time.

And I choose creativity every time,

hands down.

Notice the front of the stainless steel dishwasher behind me?

See all the fingerprints on it?

Yep.

Creative, not clean.

(Just keepin' it real.)

Senecca was my muse, designer, and chef that year.

And she rocked all three.

My beautiful girls.

Dinner-time.

Not sure what Mindy was describing here.

Perhaps the size of my thighs after the weekend..?

Us two Michelles.

When I grow up I want to be Michelle.

She knows everything.

Uh...shoes on the carpet, Eric?

What shoes?

I don't see any shoes.

The girls got me a sweet gift.

Complete with Michelle-o-phane.

And my official Chicks uniform.

In my signature color.

Mmmmhmmmm...these girls know me.

One of the best parts of Chicks is our annual tradition of "My favorite thing."

We each share our favorite thing that we have fallen in love with over the past year, and if possible, bring one for every chick.

As you can see, Tana has a love-affair with TJ Maxx (and Ross) and she found these great re-usable bags there which she brought for everyone to have.

I don't know who was the designer for these TJ Maxx bags, but let me tell ya,

they nailed it.

I'll take two, please.

Oh my!

I'll take two of those too, please.

(Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, people.

They're just Downey fragrance hangers for your closet...

...or in a pinch, inserts for your bra in case you get cold.)

Either way, they smell

REAL GOOD.

Shalece is our resident hair-stylist extraordinaire.

Shalece, if you're reading this...

MY HAIR NEEDS YOU!!!

Call me.

We need to talk.

Rebecca and her chocolate.

Yes, Christa, we know...

you love to read.

Deep.

Holocaust.

Literature.

Late at night.

Alone in bed.

Yessirree.

And no "Chicks" weekend would be complete without some dancing.

What really made Michelle shine...

...literally...

was the gold lame' shirt that she breaks out for special occasions.

And believe me,

this was a special occasion.

Food...

(lots and lots of food...)

pedicures...

warm jammies...

gifts...

projects...

more projects...

good company...

Laughs...

Babies to love on...

Other people doing my dishes...

All made for one divine weekend.

Are you ready to do it again, ladies?

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-22T05:24:00.002-07:00

Just wanted to share a few images of Christmas around our house from Christmases past

and wish you all a very

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Have a Merry Christmas.

Or else.

It's true.

Elf shoes make you stronger.

Happy Holidays!

Summer projects, cont...

2011-11-09T01:01:00.000-07:00

This was a baby gift for my lovely friend Erica who just adopted THE MOST ADORABLE baby girl.

Sadly, little miss Jenna arrived (at home) just days after I had to leave Idaho for Maui.

Sniff...sniff...

So I consoled myself by putting together a little something for the "little something".

Again, of course, it had to have a flower.

I hope she liked it...

(Her momma said she did.)

Oh hello there...

2011-11-09T00:37:00.002-07:00

You're still around?

Yay!

Then I'll share a few of the projects I worked on this summer with you...

First, a bag for my friend Michelle, the shell collector. She has a gift for seeing the tiniest, most beautiful shells and sand dollars I've ever seen.

It was her birthday and I thought it would come in handy for her.

It has a long shoulder strap that sligs across the torso.

It is made of hand-embroidered linen and has interior pockets for her teeny, tiny sand dollars.

Of course, it had to have a flower...

and vintage buttons...

and her name...

(a most excellent one, I might add)

and pleats...

She liked it.

Of peonies, conversations, and creating...

2011-08-26T01:42:00.000-06:00

I was looking through some photos that I took in my garden while I was home in Idaho for the summer and I came across these peony shots. Have I ever mentioned how much I LOVE peonies?

Hands down, my favorite flower.

Especially the light pink ones.

I miss peonies.

Which reminds me that I miss Senecca.

I especially miss our conversations.

The conversations that only come about because we've already spent a couple of hours together in comfortable silence.

These conversations start out with trivial tidbits that weave and bob and gain momentum as they course through a mountain of shared experiences, places, friends, literature, thoughts, and feelings.

Conversations that eventually bring us back to where we started.

Comfortable silence.

Knowing silence.

Silence that says,

"I love you and everything about you.

You are safe with me.

You are more precious than gold to me."

Senecca has been designing the most beautiful beach-inspired jewelry of late.

The last time she was home in Maui we sat together and had one of those conversations while she worked on some of her designs.

It was heavenly to be there together sifting and sorting and watching her beautiful hands at work.

I suppose that every mother and daughter has something that bonds them.

I have found that creating together has become the conduit for closeness for Sen and I.

We grab a few supplies, turn on the music, and begin our ritual.

Of course, not being one to let an opportunity pass without documentation, I grab my camera and start shooting.

"Mom," she says, "Stop it. Look at my nails. I soooo need a manicure before you take pictures."

And since I am such an accomodating soul, I ignore her and keep on shooting.

Because I don't want to waste a single minute of the time we have together.

I want to record it ALL.

While she renders works of art out of glass and shells and gold, I watch and wonder at this marvelous girl.

And say a little prayer of gratitude for the memories we are creating together.

And marvel at her amazing, ethereal jewelry designs.

I have decided that I am the luckiest mother in the world.

Life is beautiful.

Our (Idaho) summer in pictures 2011

2011-08-18T17:46:00.000-06:00

So much to do, so little time to record it all...

So here's just a little slice of our summer in Idaho.

Stocky sailing around the pond with grandpa:

Sweet little Ava:

Camping at Alturas Lake and Redfish Lake:

Fourth of July in Hailey:

Kelsey family reunion:

My sweet mother:

Little critter on grandma's hill:

Breakfast with the cousins at our house:

Getting ready to raft the Salmon River:

Senecca and her honey, Danny:

(Yep, he's a cutie pie)

Out to dinner at Zou 75:

(Still sporting the eternal pink cast, sigh...)

Shopping with the girls in Boise for our birthday getaway:

(Yes, Christa, you're hot...love the look)

Fun-Tana!

The lamp is cute, but you're cuter.

Just sayin'.

Can you say Cheese.......cake Factory?

So much more fun was indulged in, but alas, the camera could not accompany me everywhere.

More later...

Summer...are you out there???

2011-06-17T19:16:00.000-06:00

We (well, Stockton & I, anyway) have been joyfully anticipating our summer in Idaho...

...lazy days in the pond, hours of bouncing on the trampoline, frog-hunting, fort-building, picnics, camping, barbeques...you get the picture.

But Mother Nature decided to play a little trick on us.

A little bit of bait and switch, if you will.

We came home expecting this:

What we got was this:

Okay, okay, it wasn't quite this bad, but pretty darn close.

That whole global warming thing?

A lie.

Whoever believes in that nonsense has clearly never been to Idaho in the "summer".

But, alas, we're adapting.

Our Maui-thinned blood is thickening and we are hoping to replace our fleece and Uggs with more typical summer attire before we have to leave.

Speaking of adapting, we're also adopting.

Pets, that is.

These are our latest:

Meet Bambi and his sister.

After having the tree farm to themselves all winter, they're not quite sure what to make of us.
After engaging in a staring contest with us for a few minutes, they decided we weren't much of a threat and edged a bit closer onto the lawn.

The doe even had the nerve to chomp on my flowering crabapple trees. She was shooed away only to return about 15 minutes later for another snack.
I'm not a fan of hers anymore.

Same evening, looking south over the tree farm.
Loved the sky.
And check out this rainbow that showed up a few minutes later.

And this is what I am hoping to find at the end of the rainbow...

Soon.
...

Summer?
I know you're out there...
please come to Idaho.

Just another little care package...

2011-06-11T09:54:00.001-06:00

Senecca has moved off campus into a house, so I thought she might enjoy a few

things to set up her kitchen.

I just love the great new glasses that have patterns and textures shaped right into the glass.

This dish towel has an embroidered octopus on it.

I wish I had taken a picture of it unfolded.

It is really cute.

But you'll just have to take my word for it.

A particularly great issue of Food Network Magazine.

Of course I previewed it for appropriate content like any self-respecting mother would.

And what's a care package from mom without a little taste of home?

Oh yeah, baby, Idaho spuds all the way...

Favorite surf shots of the week...

2011-05-20T15:45:00.000-06:00

All shots taken at Honolua Bay, Maui

Safety equipment not optional...

2011-05-16T18:33:00.002-06:00

I've been meaning to post a blog entry about why I have been absent so long.
I mean, I know you're still admiring my amazing quilt top from my last post, but really...3 weeks?
Even I know it's not that cute.

So, here's my excuse:

(Viewer discretion advised.)

(I'm sorry if these made you gag.
They made me gag.
I would show you the roadrash on my fanny but then I think you would never read my blog again.)

So there you have it.
I broke my wrist...with a side of roadrash.
Which I think is a pretty darn good excuse for not blogging.
Ever tried to type with a broken wrist?
Not easy.

In case you're wondering, here's how it happened:
A couple Fridays ago I went out to try a new sport my family has taken up.
It's called carve boarding.
(And no, that's not me on the board, it's my uber-talented friend, Jenn, who also happens to be coordinated).
Unlike me.
So off us girls went (Jenn, Roxy, and I) to a paved road that is gated and has grass on both sides.
The perfect place to learn...or so I thought.
The road also has large stone light posts every 20 yards or so and if you get going to fast, which I did, and your board gets speed wobbles, which mine did, it quickly turns into a giant asphalt slalom hill.

I don't slalom.

But Jenn does.
And here's Ozzi below.
Again...coordinated.
(Unlike me.)

(In my defense, can you see how much the board rotates on its axles?
Take a closer look if you need to...)

The sport of carve boarding requires a few basic pieces of equipment:
The board
Shoes
(unless you're Alec, who does everything barefoot)
A hill
and if you're me,
Wristguards.
(A helmet might not be a bad idea either).

So for now, I have been banned from all carve boards and hills with lightposts, and I am the proud owner of one hot pink permanent (at least for 10 weeks) wristguard...er, cast.

I think the pink suits me.

Psssssst! I have a crush...

2011-04-02T19:21:00.001-06:00

I've been wanting to make a quilt for a loooooong time.

Like about a year and a half.

A picnic blanket quilt actually, and I finally got around to working on it the other day.

I faked busy for the afternoon, pulled out my sewing supplies, and started in on it.

I must admit something first.

I sort of have this thing where I fall instantly, passionately, and head-over-heals in love with a fabric.

This love affair will consume me for a period of time, say, six months or a year, and then...

Poof!

One day, just as quickly as I fell in love with it, I fall out of love with it.

And that's it.

I'm done.

I have no use for it anymore.

Wouldn't use it on a project if someone paid me in chocolate to do it.

Does anyone else have this problem?

I figured I'd better get on it before my crush with Heather Bailey's Hello Roses in Olive grew as cold as yesterday's hot cocoa.

(Lest anyone reading this blog should think I am professing to be a real live quilter, all you have to do to is take a look at the intricate top of my quilt to see that I am a faker.)

But can I share my secret for completing a quilt top in an afternoon?

BIG BLOCKS.

BIG, FAT BLOCKS.

BIG, FAT, WONKY BLOCKS.

...sandwiched between two LARGE strips of the object of my affection.

And since I'm in the sharing mood, may I share my secret to quilting happiness?

Quilting outside.

Yes.

It's the latest thing.

I highly recommend it.

You should try it.

Just thought I'd share...

2011-04-02T04:21:00.001-06:00

...a little something I made at Chicks in the Sticks when I was home in Idaho in January with my "chicks".

A sweet little collage made out of a vintage postcard with the Hawaii Mormon temple on it.

Simple and easy.

I made it from the inside of a book-cover that I simply tore off an old book.

I decoupaged a page from the book and a copy of the vintage postcard on the front.

Then I glued bias tape along the torn edge and punched holes for a ribbon hanger on either side.

The flowers are made from a kind of fabric called silk essence.

I curled the edges of several circles of fabric by melting them over an open flame, then stacked them and sewed a couple of seed beads to the center to keep it all together.

Put a little hot glue on that baby and voila!

You're an artist.

Oh yes, and what exactly is Chicks in the Sticks, you ask?

Welllllllll...

Let's just say, it's an event that causes so much laughter that the attendees go through a box of Depends in a weekend.

Each.

(More details coming soon.)

Blessed...

2011-03-06T04:05:00.003-07:00

I am blessed.

I am one of those people who has had an amazingly blessed life.

And I am also one of those people who has had some crazy, not-fun-at-all life experiences that have come at me out of left field. Experiences that have left me feeling like I was paying for sins from a

(seriously wicked) previous life.

Not the least of which was the death of my infant son, which among other challenges, contributed to the severe depression of another son.

This led to the decision to take him out of public school and begin our journey of homeschooling together.

To give you some background, I never thought I would ever homeschool my children.

Ever.

I would leave that to the denim-jumper-wearing, sprout-growing, hair-in-a-bun set of crazies who believed it was their calling to protect their offspring from the evils of government-controlled education.

(No offense to any of you who like denim jumpers, sprouts, or buns.)

I have since repented of this misconception.

Shortly after the (very difficult) decision was made and I had pulled him out of public school, I remember flipping through a catalog and seeing an ad with a picure of a mother standing next to a big yellow school bus. She was waving to her well-dressed offspring as they climbed the stairs of that bus. As she gaily waved goodbye to them and they to her, behind her back she clutched a book.

The book that she was finally going to have time to read.

I remember staring longingly at that picture.

That will never be me, I thought.

I still had little ones at home in addition to my school-aged children and I just knew that now that I had made the decision to homeschool him, I would never get the privilege of waving goodbye to all of my children and scurry back into the delicious silence of my newly-empty and orderly-for-the-next-seven-hours-home. I would never get to sink peacefully into the comfort of my well-stocked library--the library where I could reaquaint myself with the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, C. S. Lewis, Nicholas Sparks and Louis L'Amour (hey, I grew up in the country...everyone reads Louis there.)

The book that that lucky mother clutched tightly behind her back represented, to me, more than missed opportunities for reading. It represented all of the things that I would be missing out on from now on--not the least of which were lunches with girlfriends, uninterrupted phone conversations, solo shopping excursions, and the occasional midday roll in the hay with you-know-who.

(Did I just say that?)

Needless to say, I was bummed at the turn my life had taken.

Bummed and bugged.

Soooooo...we struggled along that first year.

I am certain with no more grace than an angry hippo.

What have I done? was the pervading thought in my mind at that time.

Hitting and missing, mostly missing, what I thought needed to get "done" for school, we tried to figure out how it was all going to work so that we didn't kill each other before this child hit third grade.

As we tentatively picked our way through those first few years, all of my other children at one time or another chose to be homeschooled for different lengths of time.

Thankfully, this son and I have finally reached a tenuously beautiful place.

I say tenuous because at anytime, those doubts can creep back into my mind, causing me to question my decision and fill me with fear that I have ruined this child for life because I have subjected him to the education that I am solely providing for him.

Beautiful too.

So beautiful that I would not trade places with that book-clutching mother for the world.

What I have learned to do when doubts creep in, is to remember the state this precious child of mine was in when I made the decision to remove him from school. A state where it was preferrable for him to run through a swarm of bees on his walk to school so that he could ge sufficiently stung so as not to be forced to go, in his words, "to that prison".

(Yes, this really happened.)

And I rely on the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland,

"If it was right when you prayed about it and trusted it and lived for it, it is right now."

From this I have learned acceptance.

And hope.

I have learned that from the most challenging of our mortal experiences can come the sweetest blessings...if we just wait and see what God can turn those challenges into.

So for now, my sweet boy and I are reading C. S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters together.

We are discussing political systems and economics and learning about the history of the world.

We are reading the newspaper and studying current events and how they relate to the gospel and to our seminary lesson from earlier that morning.

We are struggling through math together.

He is self-teaching the subjects he is fascinated by, such as wind and weather patterns and the currents of the ocean, geography, surfing techniques and ettiquette, along with the practical skill of surfboard repair.

We are spending our days reading, studying, questioning, searching and discussing the things of this world and of the eternities.

We are bonding and learning to love each other as only a mother and son who have chosen to spend their days together can.

And lest those of you who know us well should think I am a liar, I will admit that we spend a little bit of time...okay, a lot of time, surfing.

We call it P.E.

xoxo

2011-02-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

HaPpY VaLEnTiNe's DAy!

Tour Guide Barbie is "IN"...

2011-02-13T02:45:00.000-07:00

I promised you all a long time ago that I would take you on a tour of the other rooms (all two of them) in our condo.

So, here are a few shots of the first room: My bedroom.

Which I cleaned just for you, by the way.

Our headboard is (was) an ugly metal piece that I slipcovered in a wheat colored linen because I couldn't stand looking at it anymore. I like how it turned out...

Especially since it took about 5 minutes to make and cost about twenty bucks.

The ruffle throw is from Macy's.

The white quilt was an ebay find and I got this one for--get this--one measly dollar!

Seriously, the find of the decade.

Even if it did cost me $25 in shipping to get it here.

So worth it.

(I'm kinda falling in love with white quilts...I'll show you a project made out of them soon).

The black and cream ticking bedskirt is from Nest...my favorite store on Maui (one of these days I'll take you on a tour there...you'll die...it's so great!)

And I love this ruffle pillow from Pier One.

It's sweet, soft, and creamy...

All of a sudden I'm hungry.

Weird.

And just look at all these lovely ladies in their wool bathing suits.

(I think I feel an itch coming on...)

This is a view looking into our bathroom from our bedroom.

Which...has no door.

So I hung a curtain.

(Look on the left).

My garbage can with the burlap liner with an old brooch (featured in a previous post) resides in my bedroom as well.

Hands down, favorite candle.

Japanese Quince.

Whatever that is.

Courtesy of Bella Bloom, a great little florist here on the island.

This little number is actually a kitchen island that I turned into my studio table so that I could have a little space to create stuff.

Pretty stuff.

And in a corner resides a basket where I store the fabrics that I hope to turn into said pretty stuff someday.

A ribbon jar (crammed with ribbon) sits on top of my kitchen island-turned-studio-table.

A petite little slipcovered chair.

Seriously petite.

Oh yes, and finally,

my favorite part...

bikes hanging from the ceiling in the middle of my bedroom.

Did I mention that I have no garage?

Subtlety is not his strong suit.

2011-02-03T23:35:00.002-07:00

Gee...I wonder what Stockton wants...

Our (I mean, the boys) first bodyboarding/surfing competition.

2011-02-01T00:27:00.001-07:00

The "dudes" waiting for the comp to begin.

Aren't they ~~cute~~ handsome?

Waxing the surfboard.

Very important if you want to stay on.

Ozzi getting some advice from his veteran surfing friend, Mack.

Ozzi getting "shacked".

Monkey see.

Monkey do.

Laird, Jr.

My sweet friend, Jenn, with Michael, another friend, in the background.

Owwwwwieeeeee...a rash...

Why rashguards were invented.

Ozzi made it through to the semi-finals and ended with a fourth place finish.

Way to go guys.

I have a disorder.

2011-01-29T10:21:00.000-07:00

It's called Creative Schizophrenia.

And I've got it bad.

Some people think that I am a clean, organized type of person, which is sort of true, some of the time...but when I'm creating, all that type A personality stuff goes right out the window.

I have discovered that I simply CANNOT work on one project at a time.

I flit from one project to another, stirring up a whirlwind of mess from one side of my studio

(um, bedroom) to the other.

Personally, I like to think of it as a beautiful disaster.

But then in the background, I hear my husband's voice,

"Help! Somebody call a doctor.

I've fallen into a pile of glitter and I can't get up!"

Teeheehee...

Christmas creations, part one...

2011-01-29T00:02:00.000-07:00

It's after Christmas, I know, but I thought I'd share a few things that I worked on for the holidays.

My girlfriend Lorraine and I organized a handmade ornament exchange party that we held at another girlfriend's house (Liz, bless her heart) in early December.

Let me just say, sooooooo much fun.

Loved seeing all of the creative ideas the ladies came up with.

And the food was delicious.

Of course.

These little numbers were fashioned after my friend Kathy's idea that I ~~stole~~ borrowed.

She owns Chic Antiques in Bellevue, Idaho.

Stop in if you're ever in the neighborhood...you will not regret it.

Just be prepared to spend a load--she's got great taste, that one.

I made 18 of these little dress ornaments, all a little different.

I just love Christmas.

The perfect excuse to create with abandon...

Creative diversion...frum me to you...

2010-11-29T12:35:00.000-07:00

I've been missing my Senecca.

So after wallowing in the testosterone-infused man-cave for the last two months,

I decided it was time for a little creative diversion to take my mind off her absence.

And since my favorite thing in the whole world is to give gifts,

and her favorite thing is to get gifts...

my little "care package" project worked out for both of us.

I thought it should include something distinctly "mom" about it.

And in our home, that means art, food, or both.

So I started by making a word garland for her, using items that I had laying around my studio, er, dresser, like scraps of fabric, ribbon, buttons, paper and string.

I found this great quote a while ago and decided it would be perfect.

"Art washes from the soul, the dust of everyday life."

Sweet sentiment, no?

Her care package included the quote garland, a felt brush holder for her paintbrushes, and a set of notecards so that she would have no excuse to not write to me...

...and my favorite part:

shells "frum" Stocky to his big sister...

(We love our phonetic spellers around here.)

... then I remembered that I wanted to send her a cd of family photos
that we had taken this summer, so I added that too.

Once it was all together, in it went.

Box, tissue, then off to the post office.

Oh yes, and some jam-filled cookies that I burned especially for her.

Sorry, no photo. They were tasty, not pretty.

Sigh...

That was fun.

Who's next?

Why I don't scrapbook...

2010-11-27T02:18:00.001-07:00

Senecca's going away-to-college party took place back in September.

It's now November.

27th.

Three months behind...

Marjorie Pay Hinckley once said, "I made a resolution to read my scriptures every day...I'm on day four and I'm only 3 days behind!"

We would have been good friends, Marjorie and I.

Meg, who is also attending BYUH was in attendance. As was Lisa, our Cafe des Amis lunch partner.

The girls' party favors.

Almost good enough to eat.

Meet Allison.

Senecca's roomy from last summer.

They have the funniest rat story EVER that I will share with you all someday.

For now, I'll share these beautiful flowers...and that handsome man in the background...with you instead.

And someday when I grow up and become responsible...

I'm gonna be a scrapbooker.

At the Kula pumpkin patch...the only place on Maui that feels like fall!

2010-11-09T22:41:00.001-07:00

I was sooooo wrong...

2010-10-11T01:45:00.002-06:00

I always thought I could take a great family photo.

All I needed was

a better camera,

some decent lighting,

a somewhat cool background,

and the ever elusive

cooperative warm bodies...

Then, surely then, I would be able to take a great photo of la familia.

I was

so, so

wrong.

Believe me, I tried.

It wasn't pretty.

Enter the magnificent Micha Wixom.

Photographer extraordinaire and owner of Shuttergirl Photography .

Talk about saving me from myself.

Micha,

you rock.

Coming up for air...

2010-10-07T12:35:00.005-06:00

Hello?

Is anybody still out there?

Hello...?

Just thought I'd let you know where I've been for the last month or so.

A vortex.

Yes, that's right.

A vortex.

I was sucked into the
early morning seminary
vortex, and I'm just now coming up for air.

It has been a crazy, life changing, beautiful, challenging, exhausting, glorious month.

And every day I am changed.

I have never known such intense tutoring by the Spirit, save the time that I had Sawyer here on earth with me.

I just have one question...

Why is it that the Lord uses the hardest things in our lives to teach us?

Granted, studying for hours and getting up insanely early to teach a roomful of teenagers is not high on the list of major challenges in life, but c'mon, I mean

4 a.m.?

Seriously?

How is that holy?

And yet, when I walk in that room with those kids,

and the Spirit begins to open eyes and warm hearts
(mostly mine)

something glorious happens.

And then I know.

This is God's work.

And I am lucky to be there.

Move over, Dominos...

2010-08-21T04:34:00.001-06:00

I've never been accused of being a great cook.

I come from a looooong line of food burners.

It is a long held tradition at my family's Thanksgiving dinners that we (the women in the kitchen) "flambe'" the marshmallow topped sweet potatoes not once, not twice, but three times before we get it right.

The secret of our success is to never, under any circumstances, use a timer.

We like to think that the smoke pouring out of the oven and the fire alarm ringing in the background brings an element of danger and excitement to a meal that is otherwise satisfying, yet somehow...dull.

Don't you think so too?

Speaking of food and family, I always get the urge to cook...um, burn stuff, when I get home to Idaho.

One night while the urge was strong, I wandered to the freezer which holds the remains of our 4-H pig, Winston (rest in peace, Winston) and guess what I found?

Sausage!

Which made me think of pizza.

Which reminded me that we had flatbread. And pesto. And olives. And peppers. And onions. And feta. And mushrooms. And artichokes. And provolone.

(heavenly choir singing here)

THE MAKINGS OF A PERFECT PIZZA.

(Don't you just love how olives shine?)

Simple ingredients that just hang out in the refrigerator and pantry, waiting to be whipped into a
culinary masterpiece.
Okay, you can stop laughing now, Eric.

I must say...

It was delicious...

And easy...

And I only burned 2 of them before it came out perfect.

Part Three: How to become a Farm Chicks groupie

2010-07-21T01:17:00.005-06:00

the rules:

First, you must shop like a maniac and not let one white or cream chippy painted object go by without a good look-see.

Second, you must spread it all out on the Spokane fairgrounds lawn for a quick show-and-tell before loading it into the wagon to head for home.

(Go ahead, don't be shy, dump the contents of your wheeled market baskets and brown paper bags into big 'ol heaps, right there on the ground.)

Finally, you must whip out your trusty camera and proceed to document...er, incriminate yourself with... the loot.

We followed the rules.

(Can you believe it?)

Do you wanna take a peak?

Don't you just love vignettes?

Sometimes I wish life was a vignette.

We tried to convince these little darlings to crawl into our suitcases (vintage, of course...okay, not really...does 1985 count?) and come back to Idaho with us.

For some strange reason their mothers vetoed that idea.

Go figure.

We met these super sweet ladies on the lawn during show-and-tell.

They too, declined our invitation to tag along with us to Idaho.

Something about a cute little store to run...

Loaded and ready for the trek home.

Giddy-up.

"Would you rather live in the summer or the country?"

2010-07-09T01:08:00.005-06:00

That is the question my sweet grandpa used to ask when I was a little girl and would climb up on his knee for a bounce. I'm certain it was the perplexed look on my face that would make him smile and raise his grey bushy eyebrows at me while he waited for my answer. I remember considering his question very carefully and weighing the advantages and disadvantages of both, unsure of which would be the best answer. In the end I usually replied, "The summer," at which he would nod and smile broadly, making me feel as if I had answered correctly and would somehow help him make his own choice between the two.

My sweet grandpa has long since passed on, but I still sometimes think about his question and wonder what he would say if I would greedily answer, "Both!"

I'm not sure why, but there is something about the sight of my boys in blue jeans, leather gloves, and work boots (which my kids call "pig boots" because we bought them the summer we raised 4-H pigs)

that just makes me smile.

So yes, I would rather live in the summer AND the country.

What have the guys been up to lately?

2010-06-25T01:09:00.001-06:00

Oh, you know, just hangin' around.

Part two: How to become a Farm Chicks groupie

2010-06-13T19:12:00.002-06:00

What, you ask, is that?

Why, it's a cake, of course.

A 15 foot repurposed tin, glass, wire, galvanized sheet metal, Farm Chicks cake.

During the show, occasionally, over the intercom, would come the announcement,

"Barbara, your husband is waiting for you at The Cake."

Barbara knew exactly what to make a beeline for.

Or not.

Genius.

...

Some of you may know of my obsession with Heather Bullard.

I stalk her online like a crazed hair band fan of the 80's.

Okay, maybe not like that.

But I do LOVE her blog, her photography, her online boutique, her chicken coop...

(By the way, if you haven't seen her chicken coop, you should, but be prepared for a nasty case of poultry envy. I don't even like chickens and I wanted some after I saw it.)

So now you know the real reason I went to Farm Chicks.

(Sorry June and Lisa)

When I saw her, I did what I normally would NEVER do.

I asked if I could take my picture with her.

For those of you who know me, you know that that is sooooo out of character for me--

I don't give a hoot about movie stars, sports stars, singers, or models.

I don't think I've asked for an autograph in my whole life.

But I must admit, I got a little verklempt at the first sight of her.

It was a MOMENT for me.

Isn't she beautiful?

(The fact that I'm even putting my wrinkled face up next to hers on this computer screen will tell you how starstruck I was.)

Am.

And her booth...sigh...

A little slice of heaven.

There were so many vendors that were so great, it was almost hard to believe.

Like this gal from Retreat.

Just look at the details,

right up to the tops of their tents.

(Did I just sound like Dr. Seuss?)

Take a look at these metallic Duncan Phype tables with upside-down galvanized trays on them.

Totally original.

I love it.

There was lots and lots of white and canvas and natural linen.

I was smitten.

The people watching was almost as much fun as antique shopping.

I enjoy thinking that I would have enough moxie to wear dresses and boots, like these cute girls, but I've decided that I would have to be a vendor to get away with it.

Hmmmmmm...now there's an idea...

And finally, the woman in the center of the photo below is Jo Packham, author of Where Women Create and Book of Inspiration, as well as editor-in-chief of Where Women Create magazine, and on the right is Serena Thompson, the author of The Farm Chicks in the Kitchen, A Farm Chicks Christmas (coming soon) and the original Farm Chicks founder. Jo was signing her new book and Serena just happened to be stopping by and was gracious enough to smile for a photo.

My final rockstar photo for this post:

Hiccup.

Jo's new book.

Signed.

Just for me.

Hiccup.

I'm verklempt.

Part One: How to become a Farm Chicks groupie

2010-06-12T21:15:00.000-06:00

First of all, you need to find the right, shall we say, parters in crime.

Not just anyone will do.

They need to be:

Lovers of all things old and crusty

and

possess bladders of steel.

It takes a special sort of person who will stop at nearly every little podunk town across three states to photograph obscure things like...

blue water towers,

old advertising on the sides of random buildings,

crusty motel signage,

and plastic adirondack chairs stacked against old houses.

Fortunately I have friends who are just as crazy as me.

Meet June and Lisa.

Or rather, meet their behinds.

We found some great little pastry shops and boutiques in Spokane.

Like this one called Rockwood Bakery.

Just look at that yummy red paint and espresso stained hardwood trim.

YUMMY.

I could just lick it right off the wall.

Okay, maybe not.

That would be gross.

We shopped for Miss Me jeans at a sweet little store called Lolo Boutique.

Which also had great stuff for the home like this little number and

a darling bare bulb chandelier that I really think I need.

Oh yeah, and this necklace.

Need, I say.

A sweet dress from Serenity.

June showing Lisa how wide I looked after trying on that last pair of Miss Me's.

Did I mention that June was just a little bit crazy?

And finally...

...what we drove 11 hours,

drank 8 gallons of diet coke,

(okay, Miss June drank 8 gallons of diet coke)

and stopped at every potty between Carey and Spokane for.

And that, my friends, was just the beginning of our beautiful Farm Chicks adventure.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "How to become a Farm Chicks groupie" coming your way soon!

What's the deal with burlap's funky smell?

2010-06-01T23:59:00.000-06:00

If anyone can answer that one, I'd appreciate it.

Somehow it always seems to have a...well...odor...about it.

A kind of petroleum, dieselish smell if you will.

In spite of this, I am quite taken with its textural quality. I think of ruddy cheeked French peasants when I see it and it makes me want to make

garbage can liners

out of it.

Wait a minute, garbage can liners?

Yes,

garbage can liners.

Beautiful, embellished, flowered garbage can liners.

Don't try to understand it.

Just go with it.

Oh yeah, and towel holders.

I can't help myself.

It's a sickness.

"List-maker, list-maker, make me a list..."

2010-05-26T04:55:00.002-06:00

Are you a list maker?

I am.

I live by my list. If I don't have half a dozen lists going at one time, I'm lost.

Here,

I will list my lists for you.

1. List of to-do's (lots of phone calls, cleaning, errands to run.)

Yawn.

2. Grocery list (short this week because we are trying to eat our way through the food in the fridge before we leave to go back to Idaho.)

3. List of projects to complete (includes putting together a chandelier that needs to be re-wired to plug into the wall, re-covering my ironing board with fabric that doesn't look like it has been barfed on, making another burlap garbage can liner (sounds weird, but I swear, it really is cute), repaint canvas on living room wall, make a key ring hook to replace the four nails pounded into the sheet rock currently serving as our key ring hook (we're high class around here, yessirree.)

4. List of photos I want to take.

5. List of places I want to go.

6. List of books I want to read in the near future (there are currently 81 books on this list and counting...I add to this list daily with no end in sight...Hello, my name is Michelle and I am a bookaholic...)

7. List of character flaws I want to eradicate (there's something along the line of obsessive list-making on there.)

8. List of things to take to Idaho.

9. List of things to bring back from Idaho.

and so on...

But I will share a little secret with you.

Sometimes...

when I'm really feeling especially frisky...

I ditch my list.

I do.

I go listless.

You should try it too.

It's positively...

EXHILARATING!

As for those of you who aren't list-makers,

well...

you don't know what you're missing out on.

The feeling of ditching your list, that is.

Art...books...a little slice of heaven.

2010-05-03T21:52:00.000-06:00

I was in one of my favorite haunts the other day, and I came across this sweet little book and I just wanted to share.

I thought it would make a great Mother's Day gift.

hint...hint...

This book begs a very important question...

Which I will answer now.

Mothers should make time to create art because...

...because that's what keeps us out of the looney bin!

That's why.

Besides the fact that this book is visually stunning, what I love most about it is that it approaches creativity in a way that is not at odds with the idea of being a mother (and a wife) first. It gives practical advice on how to fit in stolen moments of time to explore and create. I realize that not all women have the desire to paint or sew or craft, but I do believe that we are all endowed with the desire to create in some form or another.

After all, isn't that what mothers really are?

Creators.

It features several artist-mothers who share their secrets for integrating art into their normal, messy, laundry-laden lives. They too, have little unfinished masterpieces running around, demanding attention.

Thing is...

They mother.

They create.

But they don't feel guilty about it.

They don't have to.

They have priorities.

Wife.

Mother.

Artist.

Imagine that.

Wisdom...

2010-04-24T12:13:00.002-06:00

"I would rather have a small house and a big life,

than a big house and a small life...

wouldn't you, Mom?"

Ummmm.

"Would you say that again, Stockton?"

He sighs, and says a little louder, slower, for my benefit,

"I would rather have a small house and a big life,

than a big house and a small life...wouldn't you?"

He waits expectantly for my answer.

"Mom?"...still waiting...

"Yes, Stockton," I say with an awed voice, "I would."

We continue driving.

Satisfied, Stockton plays with an action figure in the back seat.

I drive on, contemplating our exchange.

How is it that a seven year old can have more wisdom than a full grown, been-through-lots-of-life-experiences adult?

Sometimes I wonder,

who is raising who?

I've got a thing for clipboards.

2010-03-22T11:30:00.000-06:00

My love affair with them began a couple of years ago when I discovered how inexpensive and useful these little guys could be. I started out making message boards decoupaged with paper and cork, moved on to wanna-be picture frames and now:

Family home evening/chore chart boards.

Needless to say, my family is thrilled.

They can run, but they can't hide...

from

THE CHORE CHART.

Despite what they may think, it really was made with

100%

Pure

Unadulterated

Love.

So, there.

I have good news and bad news...

2010-03-19T11:27:00.001-06:00

The good news is that Senecca was admitted to BYU Hawaii.

The bad news is that Senecca was admitted to BYU Hawaii.

When she opened her acceptance letter and shrieked with joy at the good news, I did a little happy dance in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Then I did what any self respecting mother would do.

I locked myself in my bedroom and cried my eyes out for a couple of days.

What will I do without my funny girl?

Who will I laugh at with?

Who will I binge on ice cream with?

Who will sit in my studio and drink gallons of hot cocoa with me?

And then crash on the couch while I remain on a sugar high.

Listening to Abba.

Still jabbering in their ear.

At 2 a.m.

Who tolerates stuff like that?

My sweet Senecca.

That's who.

Honestly, I don't know if I can stand it.

What I would say, if only I were eloquent...

2010-03-07T02:51:00.005-07:00

"If you haven't got all the things you want, be grateful for the things you don't have, that you don't want."

author unknown

"If I take the wings of the morning, & dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me." Psalm 139

"Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness, and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again."

Og Mandino

"Go into the world and do well, but more importantly, go into the world and do good."

Minor Myers Jr.

I take no credit for the following:

2010-03-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

Well...there was that small matter of birthing them.

Want to have a fun family home evening?

2010-02-21T05:16:00.004-07:00

Have a tie-tying lesson.

With people who know nothing about tying ties.

Laugh at them.

Take pictures.

Put them on your blog.

Laugh some more.

Just don't make them mad.

Myyy, that's a long tie you've got there, mister.

.....

Every month we get together with our friends Richard and Loraine and their son Kyler, who is Alec's age, for a family home evening lesson out of the Preach My Gospel manual to prepare our boys for serving a mission. Last month we thought it would be fun to learn how to tie ties, now that the boys are to the age where clip-on ties just don't hold the same appeal. We all gave it a go, but soon I retreated behind the lens of my camera to document this "coming of age" ritual for posterity.

Not because I couldn't tie a tie or anything.

It's not like it's rocket science.

It went something like...the rabbit goes around the trunk of the tree, down into the hole, up and around again...

Oh fiddle.

Welcome to Casa Alberdi, I will be your tour guide today...

2010-02-17T14:41:00.007-07:00

After numerous requests to see what the "digs" in Hawaii look like, I finally pulled my act together and moved the lawn furniture, plastic storage shelves, and foam mattresses out of sight so that we could snap a few pictures.

Just kidding...

sort of.

Anyway, this is our spacious living/home-school/office/storage unit/library/playroom.

Same room, different view. These sliding glass doors are the sole reason we rented this place. I mean, look at them. Look how much light pours through them. This is a very important feature for a light freak like me.

Who needs bedrooms with light like this?

Now we will rotate 90 degrees and view the kitchen.

The heart of the home...

The height of culinary advancement...

Riiiiiiiight.

Let's be real.

This is the place where peanut butter and jelly sandwiches get slapped together and called a meal.

My desk.

All mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

(From 4 to 5 a.m. and from 11 to 12 p.m.)

Stuff I love.

Can you stand it? Are these striped pencils not the sassiest thing you've ever seen?

Isadora in Bellevue.

Get you some.

More stuff I love.

A chair, actually. Can you really love a chair? Well, if you can, I do. Not because it is super comfortable or anything, just because it makes a great backdrop for other cute stuff. Like my favorite quilt. That I made myself. Okay, okay, the ONLY quilt I have ever made. And probably ever will. Oh yeah, and my favorite pillow.

That I bought myself.

Really.

All by myself.

My mama would be proud.

My sweet friend Sariah called the other day to tell me she was moving to a much smaller house (like me!) and she wondered where she was going to put everything (like me!) and would she go completely insane with too many people in too small of a space (like me!)?

Okay, maybe she doesn't want to be just like me.

But here's what I've learned:

It's all about hidden storage.

And going vertical,

which I'll explain later.

Allow me to introduce you to my coffee table.

Er, tables.

I bought these ottomans from the Country Living line at KMart. Who would have guessed?

Linen. Tufted. Nailhead trim. Dreamy.

And the best part is that they have hinged with storage capacity.

I should be their spokesperson.

Seriously.

(This is the going vertical part.)

Garage?

Who needs a garage?

Not when you are married to a man who can wield a saw and a drill and a couple of two by fours like nobody's business.

Screw those puppies together, slap on a little white paint and...voila!

A storage unit in your living room.

.....

Are you jealous?

Don't you wish you had one in your living room too?

.....

(Oh yeah, and that's Senecca's adorable bike that she repainted herself--it used to be pepto-bismol pink--that she never rides. We live at the top of a steep hill. Need I say more?)

But it sure is cute.

And that's all that matters.

This will surprise you I know, but there are absolutely no closets in this condo other than one in each bedroom for clothing, so I have enlisted the help of a basket (the one on the left) as my linen closet. I guess the builder assumed that a bunch of minimalists who never showered or changed their bedding would be living here.

I have learned to adapt by having very few towels (1 per person), and no extra bedding. I do wash our bedding regularly, I swear, but then I just put it right back on.

***

On that note, here's a bit of trivia to brighten your day and make me sound like Cliff Claven...Did you know that in Hawaii, they are not called lice, but ukus? (pronounced ookoos) Funny, huh? It somehow really describes what they are. And no, we don't have them.

***

What's that you say?

You say I've worn you out?

You're ready to go now?

Was it something I said?

Dang.

Just when I was getting my groove on.

Prepare yourself...

2010-02-13T05:29:00.008-07:00

...for a torrent of blogarrhea.

(It's been a while)

It's February, and I'm back on Maui and back to the routine.

You know the drill:

Get up.

Get dressed.

Go to the beach.

Lay around all day in the sun.

Sip frozen drinks.

Work on my tan.

Go home.

Go to bed.

Repeat.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

"That is rich." (To quote the Grinch).

Only in my fantasy world.

Want to know what "a day in the life" for Michelle really looks like?

Well....the fun begins at 4:55 a.m., when I drag myself out of bed to get ready to take the two oldest kids to seminary, which starts at 5:25. Seriously? 5:25 a.m.? Who's masochistic idea is this anyway? And who in their right mind can feel the spirit at 5:25 a.m.?

To stay awake (and to pretend like I still care what I look like in a bathing suit) I go on a walk with an equally insane motivated friend while we are waiting for our teenagers. Incidentally, the most "worked out" part of our bodies are our jaws.

Then it's a race home to wake up Austen so that he can catch his bus at 6:55. Austen is what I call a "popper". When it's time to get up, he pops out of bed and gets moving. Stockton, on the other hand, is a "dragger". I don't think this requires an explanation, does it? Needless to say, I often end up driving him to school, which starts at 8:25 a.m.

Now it's back home to start round two of breakfast. Then the morning clean-up. Laundry, dishes, etc., and at some point, I manage to climb in the shower. At last, we're ready for some studying at the Alberdi School of Excellence, which two very "excellent" students attend, for the next few to several hours, depending on the day and the stamina of the teacher and students.

(In case anyone cares, subjects studied so far this year are: math, history, economics, art, constitutional studies, writing, grammar, spelling, chemistry, literature, geography, graphic design, HTML, photography, silk-screening, surfing and some stuff I've forgotten already.)

Any guesses as to which ones are our favorites?

Lunch gets crammed in there somewhere, and the two younger boys are home just minutes after they left.

Snacks, noise, and chaos ensue.

By now it is 3:30 p.m. and the begging begins. Them, for me to take them to the beach, and I, for them to do their homework and chores so we won't have to do it at night. It's about a 50/50 win/lose proposition. So sometimes we end up at the beach and sometimes we don't. Currently, no one is involved in an organized sport, other than arguing with each other, although we've had paddling practice, tennis lessons, and scouts to work around previously. Senecca works at a restaurant in Kihei (a lot) and drives herself to dance every afternoon in Wailuku--about a 20 minute drive each way.

By six-ish, we're back from the beach or homework-land. Either way, we're sweating. Now it's time to figure out dinner. Why do you people think you need to eat three times a day anyway? Okay. Cold cereal it is. Wait. Never mind. That's just another fantasy of mine. You say you want something healthy AND tasty? I'll make it when I find a recipe for that. In the meantime, have some spaghetti and turn that T.V. off!

Time for dishes, showers, scripture study, and prayer, kiddos.

Hello?

Hello?

Is anybody home?

Find everyone, accomplish most of the above, then bribe, wrestle or cajole the kids into bed.

Well, sort of.

Give up and put myself to bed instead.

The next day, it starts all over again.

Lucky me.

Heard in our house this morning...

2009-11-17T11:46:00.003-07:00

"Hurry up, Stockton. You don't want to be late for school today."

"Yes, I do."

"Oh."

Duh...

Out of the mouths of babes...

2009-11-09T13:44:00.006-07:00

Stockton is learning to read and it's been a bit rough for both of us. After a particularly frustrating practice session, he turned to me and growled, "My wife WILL NOT know how to read!"

"Why on earth would you say that?" I asked him.

"So she can't say," he replied, adopting a high-pitched nasally girly voice, "My husband doesn't know how to read!"

He then proceeded to stomp out of the room.

After picking myself up off the floor where I collapsed in a fit of laughter, I knelt down to say a little prayer of thanks for funny little people and to petition the reading gods for a some help in this matter.

(More on how it's going later)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

2009-10-19T12:46:00.000-06:00

Because it is SOOOOO hard to get into the holiday spirit in a place that feels like a truly endless summer (not complaining), I'm living vicariously through last years photos of last year's Halloween decorating extravaganza.

Somehow it just doesn't seem like Halloween without skulls, spiders, and brain-shaped rocks lying about the house.

Go figure.

This guy looks pretty real, doesn't he?

He scared a few people.

He would move in the wind.

(Not that it's windy very often in Idaho.)

I lied about not having any spiders here in Hawaii.

Actually there are spiders around here that look just like this, only they're brown and they're bigger.

Much BIGGER.

Creepy.

Wishing you all a spooktacular Halloween...

BOO!

What I've been up to...

2009-10-10T03:20:00.004-06:00

It's no secret that I've been in a bit of a creative lull lately.

I blame it on the fact that my studio has shrunk to miniscule proportions.

(As in, it doesn't exist.)

And the fact that my poor man's studio--dining room table--will hold 3 dinner plates at a time with no room to spare, doesn't help. Seeing no change on the horizon, I finally schlepped my supplies out into the middle of the living room, stopped making excuses, and started sewing.

Several hours (and much sweat and tears, but no blood thank goodness) later, my new pillows were born.

I'm quite smitten with them. Of course, I'd be smitten with anything made out of linen. Especially white linen.

"It's my favorite," says the ten year old in me.

I love how it is wrinkly and heavy and drapes beautifully.

I'd eat it for breakfast if I could.

Oh yes, and buttons.

I love buttons too. Especially mother of pearl buttons.

I used buttons of all different sizes and shapes and shades because...

Well...

Because I could.

That's why.

That and the fact that I really hate things that match.

(It could explain why my fashion-conscious sixteen year old refuses to walk next to me at times.)

Kleenex and character...

2009-10-02T13:39:00.009-06:00

I cried last night for a long time. Cried and cried. I laid down on my bed with tears streaming down my temples and puddling in my ears. I went through a half a box of Kleenex crying. My eleven year old laid on the bed next to me with tears running down his cheeks, trying not to let me see that he was crying too.

It was wonderful.

There are moments in life that one wouldn't trade for anything. Among my favorites are the sweet, stolen moments, serendipitously found between the yellowed, dog-eared pages of a book.

We shared one of these last night, my sweet boy and I. We were reading the book "A Day No Pigs Would Die" by Robert Newton Peck. In a hurry to finish a book report for school, we picked the shortest book we could find in our bookshelf and launched into what we thought would be a quick and easy foray into the life of a backward Shaker boy in the early 1900's.

What we got was something completely different. True, the story was about a backward Shaker boy in the 1900's, but what we learned, felt and shared was so much more than that. We learned that it is more than age that makes a man out of a boy. We learned that some things just have to be done no matter how hard or painful it is to do them. We learned that life is not always fair, but that the character built in a man in the face of unfairness is the hard-won prize.

And we learned that reading and crying together creates a bond. I loved my son more after sharing that time together than before. And I like to think he loved his teary-eyed, runny-nosed mom just a little bit more too.

These are the moments I will never trade.

Oh, yes she did...

2009-09-08T03:41:00.009-06:00

Darn right, I did.

Blogged twice in one day.

Must mean You-know-who is coming home and there will be other activities keeping me busy for a while.

You know, activities like cooking...and cleaning...and darning socks and such.

Mmhmm...that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

So...

I've been experimenting with Photoshop and I must say, "WOW!" What a difference it can make in a photo. Given my technological handicaps and less than stellar photography skills, I'm amazed at what it can do. Okay, okay, you all know this already. I'm a little slow in the cool new stuff and gadgets department, but I must comment on it, simply because it's news to me.

I'm boosting color and increasing exposure and contrast like crazy around here. I'm especially fond of the effects toolbar that lets me see it in antique and sepia and black and white all at one time.

A little slice of heaven on earth.

By the way, the magazine in the photo above is one of my favorite publications. It is published by Somerset Hill who has a number of really unique magazines that it puts out quarterly. They're a little pricey, but worth every penny if they feature a favorite artist or two.

"Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities."

(Frank Lloyd Wright)

Amen.

Stacks of lovely white color-boosted linen and computer faded florals.

Even glitter looks better in high contrast.

It's the little things, really.

Now go ahead and do what the sign says.

Laugh it up.

When in Rome...

2009-09-08T02:04:00.011-06:00

You know what they say, "When in Rome, do what the Romans do..."

Well, in Maui, they paddle.

That's right, paddling.

Unlike canoeing, which is done in murky ponds and mountain lakes in Idaho.

Not one to be left out of all the fun, Child No. 3 has taken up paddling.

(He's the little brown speck in the 2nd seat from the front of the canoe.)

Take a look at the size of those paddles, would ya?

Awwwww, a hug from his coach for a job well done.

It was fascinating to see all of the canoes lined up and the teams warming up and getting ready to go out. The regatta was held in Lahaina and there were teams of all ages competing, from middle school age to adults.

You should have seen the guns on some of those big guys paddle teams...

I'm thinking of signing up to get in shape...

Yeah, right.

I'm signing up just to watch!!!

Early morning thoughts...

2009-08-22T12:24:00.004-06:00

I woke up this morning at 5:00 a.m. for no good reason at all. No seminary today. No walking buddy waiting on me. Just awake. Thinking. You know, that dreamy, guazy, can't-get-back-to- sleep thinking. I like it. Some of my best ideas, most profound thoughts, and greatest epiphanies come during these times. I can't share what I thought specifically about this morning, it's too personal, but I can share what it made me feel.

I feel so incredibly grateful for motherhood. What an incredible gift we have been given as women. The ability to create life. A little God-like science experiment going on inside our bellies for 9 months--and then, presto! A real-live human being. Ten little fingers, ten little toes. A body and spirit--ours to mould into a beautiful, moral, intelligent soul. Powerful and heady stuff.

What I am most grateful for is that knowing that even when things don't turn out perfectly, when things don't go according to our plan, it will be okay. Because there is Someone who is in charge of the real plan. The best plan. Not everyone can say that they know this. I feel lucky to know what I know and to have been tutored at the knee of humble parents who knew and loved me enough to share this gift with me. Blessings to them.

SHE"S BAAAAAACK!!!

2009-08-17T02:33:00.007-06:00

Back to blogging, back to Maui, and back in the saddle. Yessirree.

My only excuse for not having blogged for so long is that I have been so busy living life, that I haven't had time to chronicle it. Clearly, I could NEVER be a scrap-booker. I would have piles and piles of photos laying around languishing in heaps, waiting to be scrapped. The guilt and shame of it would kill me. No, an empty blog is enough.

So you wanna know what I've been doing? Well, most of you who care enough to read this blog already know, but here goes. A summer spent in Idaho included: Rain, a dusting and cob-web-ridding binge, swimming and canoeing in the pond, COLD early morning walks, thunder and lightning storms, girl's days (although not enough), dinner with friends, trips to Alturas, lots of mosquito-slapping, play-time in my studio, a family reunion, antiquing, dirt-bike riding, 4th of July parade, bbq, and fireworks, airplane rides, a trip to Blackfoot, a girls only trip to SLC, gardening (or as I like to put it "playing in the dirt"), swinging in the hammock, a community picnic, water-skiing on the Snake, dr. and dentist appointments, sewing, weeding, trips to KB's, 24th of July parade, oh yeah, and enough cleaning of the homestead to satisfy this neat-freak for a long time. Needless to say, it was immensely satisfying and waaaaaaaay too short. Kind of like eating an ice-cream cone in the summer-time. I already miss it.

Sigh...

I think I'll go have some shave ice.

What really matters...

2009-05-06T04:08:00.008-06:00

You know how when something bad happens, all the unimportant stuff in life seems to just melt away?

And you remember that the only things that REALLY matter aren't things at all.

In the end, it's all about people.

And love, of course.

The Beatles were right about that one.

I've been thinking...

There are a lot of things that I love about my sweetheart, and I don't think I've told him lately.

So...

I thought I'd make a list:

E-

You are the perfect left-brained compliment to my right-brain-ness.
You like ice cream and so do I.
You pay our bills faithfully and on time, avoiding the late payment notices that would probably fill our mailbox if I were in charge of that task.
You fix stuff.
Especially stuff that involves keyboards and cords and anything electronic.
You allow me to decorate our bedroom with flowers, pastels, and ruffles.
You have great taste in cars and bathroom faucets.
You make difficult phone calls that make me sweat if I have to make them.
You take our kids to the beach to skim board and body surf with them, even though moving the next day may take an act of Congress.
You tolerate my stopping at every flower-stand we pass to drool and take a picture. ( See below.)

You are good at not getting lost in strange countries.
You appreciate art, and I appreciate that you appreciate it too.
You give our children blessings when they are sick or scared.
You forgive and ask for forgiveness quickly.
You don't hold grudges.
You think that I'm beautiful first thing in the morning when I haven't showered, brushed my teeth, or put make-up on.
You keep an excellently groomed lawn when we have one.
You dazzle me with your eloquence when speaking in front of a group, whether it be your Gospel Doctrine class or a city council meeting.
You take me to the temple.
You take me to other beautiful places. (See below.)

You pretend not to notice when I buy yet another purse.
You take me to Barnes and Noble late at night on our dates to inhale the delicious smell of coffee and books.
You aren't mad that I haven't "taken" to golf like I know you would like me to.
You love my parents as much as I do. (And I yours.)
You know how to build pretty much anything.
You never think I'm fat, even when I'm pregnant and I've just eaten my way through a box of powdered donuts.
You like my girlfriends ALMOST as much as I do.
You're not embarrassed when pictures like this show up of me on the internet. (See below.)

You know how to work hard and play hard.
You cry when you bear your testimony.
You plow out our driveway all day on Christmas day so my family can come visit, even though I know you would rather be inside taking a nap.
You're not embarrassed to tell strangers that you're the janitor when you're fixing the toilets in the building that you own.
You're generous to a fault when somebody we know needs help.
You're funny and you just get funnier when you're on a roll. (See below.)

You have some of the world's sexiest legs.
You still call me your "Girlfriend" even though we've been married for fifteen years.
You willingly move me and our children to a tropical island because you knew how tired I was of being cold.
You fly overnight every month, staying awake for nearly 40 hours in a stretch, and work hard in both places we live in order to feed our family.
You REALLY DO like romantic walks on the beach.
You like to take me places alone--without short little demanding people around.
You trust my judgement when it comes to educating our offspring, even when there's utter chaos in the living room as a result.
You like to shop in The Body Shoppe right along side of me.
You are curious about all kinds of things.
You are smart--where did you learn everything you know?
In short, YOU ARE AWESOME...

I know you've had a bummer week, with big, bad things happening. I agree with Aristotle:

"The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears

with composure one heavy mischance after another,

not because he does not feel them,

but because he is a man of high and heroic temper."

You are my hero.

Who says all French men are rude?

2009-04-04T05:45:00.004-06:00

I'm sorry.

I can't help myself any longer. I simply MUST share a few of my favorite photos of France with you.

Eric and I have discovered the perfect antidote for guests that stay too long:

a slide show of our trip to Europe.

We learned this after having unintentionally run off or put to sleep a number of close friends and relatives. Lucky for you, I'm only going to share a few at a time. I'll bore you to death in small doses.

Kind of me, no?

I had this thing for flower shops in Paris.

London too.

Oh yeah, and in Switzerland.

Alright, alright. In ALL of Europe.

I have more pictures of flowers than I do of my children growing up.

(Forgive me kids.)

Sweet Sixteen in front of one of her favorite finds in Paris.

Look at the light fixtures in the window. They're tutu's! Have you ever seen anything more adorable?

And take a closer look at the rows and rows of pointe shoes in the cubbies in the store. Dreamy colors of pink and peach and ivory.

One word.

Yummy.

The French have such incredible style. So many storefronts looked like they came right out of a photo-shoot.

Can I be French?

Please?

That's me on the left. Fat, dumb, and happy. Silly grin on my face. Content to just soak it all in.

That's my girl on the right. Studiously and seriously getting down to the business of making art in the city of light. Doing what truly creative people do when surrounded by hundreds of years of art and architecture and culture.

Who's happiest?

We're still arguing that point.

How can I not include a picture of the Eiffel Tower in our little tour of France?

And just in case you're wondering, there really is only one bathroom in the huge park surrounding this famous landmark. And yes, they do shut it down to clean it for about an hour each day.

The French are not really big on public facilities, if you know what I mean.

Not only do they possess incredible style, but they have the largest bladders on the planet.

Living proof that not all French men are rude.

(Or short and fat and smelling of garlic, Marty!)

This guy was VERY friendly.

He was our waiter at a cute little cafe near Notre Dame.

I seriously contemplated having Christmas cards made up of this one.

But I decided against it.

Far too much explaining to do later.