a favorite thing

The little moments that make my day lately are the times when Eamon grins widely up at me before I have a chance to even send a smile his way. He's such a sweetie and so happy.

Just hanging out on our bed.

Bowling for the first time.
He turned four months old on this day.
If he looks a little out of it, it's because he was;
the shots he got earlier at his doctor's appointment subdued him.
Poor little guy. I hate hearing his sad sad cry after they poke him.

it's kind of evil,

but it fills me with a little ounce of glee:

running,
pushing Eamon in the stroller,
and passing someone on an uphill.

Like I said, kind of evil. So I guess that makes me kind of evil.

Which reminds me of this quote for some reason:

"I wouldn't marry anyone who was really wicked, but I think I'd like it if he could be wicked and wouldn't."

-Anne to Marilla in "Anne of Avonlea"

Oh, if only I could get Andrew to watch Anne with me. I don't think it's going to happen, though. I've already asked him a few times, and he's answered in the negative each time. Guya? You wanna sometime? I miss Katherine saying, "Well, mine's full."

Anyway, this has turned very tangential. Back to worky work.

Image taken from here.

it's late

and i'm tired. not really into capitalizing things at the moment.

today has been ok. i'm ready to crash into bed, but thought i'd write for at least a few minutes.

want to remember how much i love spring. love how a day can start drizzly and cloudy and turn into sunshine lighting up new and fragrant blossoms.

want to remember how strapping e into his stroller calms him. how big he smiles when he gets enough naptime. how he turned himself around a full 180. he squawked for the last 90 of it, but he was working it.

want to remember how mr. manly cleaned up so i could get some other work done. how he got us a beautiful Easter (i will capitalize that) book for fhe last night. how he brought me down a bird's nest (a bowl full of desserty treats) tonight.

want to remember how it feels to rush down bannock on my bike. because i did that tonight. it's been a year since i've cruised on my bike. and oh how delicious it was. i could almost hear my legs screaming, though, on the return trip. i was tempted, oh so sorely, to get off and walk, but i kept spinning, upward and breathlessly.

want to remember the good despite how weary i am.

as i look back to the beginning of this post, i see i wrote that today was ok, but the act of remembering has changed it from ok to good.

remember remember. it's good for me.

lucky

I lucked out on my morning run. The two nickels I found faced the sky heads up.

Today I'm lucky, blessed and thankful. I'm grateful for:

• runs in shorts and a tee
• Eamon's smiles, squawks, and laughs
• sleep
• Andrew's hugs
• sunshine
• late afternoon walks with Eamon, Tawna, and Ember
• hope that Eamon will sleep through the night

Goodnighty!

sabbath thoughts

After two unbelievably warm days, the great outdoors had a foot of snow waiting for me this morning. I love shoveling. I love shoveling even more when the morning is more than gorgeous. White clouds layer upon the blue sky as it turns golden with the rising sun. Perfection.

Sadness, though, is the big tree branch that was felled at my parents'. They've been in California for several days and won't get back until tonight, so I headed down the hill to give their driveway a good shoveling as well. The snow must have been too heavy for the branch. I guess it's more of a limb. It was the second biggest limb and now it has broken off, leaving the tree looking wounded and lopsided.

Today, some years ago, my best friend was born to my grandma. I still get a kick out of the fact that my best friend is my aunt. What does "best friend" mean anyway? I have several best friends. So I hope none of my best friends feel slighted when they hear me call someone else my best friend. Sierra and I go back the longest, though. She's only eight months older than I am and always put up with my bossiness. She's a gorgeous woman inside and out. She's hilarious and I love her latest stunt about challenging spring. I miss her too much. I wish she, and her cute, blossoming family, didn't live all the way across the country. But I still wish her happy birthday all the way from here. I hope spring comes soon for her.

Looking forward to more wonderful Conference participation. Laters.

movement

the raising of hands
the freedom of it
the spontaneity of it

the folding of arms
the instinct of it
the comfort of it

the closing of eyes
the desire of it
the necessity of it

the kneeling of knees
the humility of it
the pause of it

to write

How many notebooks and journals have I filled? Numerous. I used to live to write. I would sequester myself in my room, light all my candles (at least 15), turn off my lights, burn a little incense, crack open my current "tablet," and put pen to paper. Sometimes I would rushwrite--write whatever came as fast as it came. Other times I would do character sketches, jot beautiful couplets unattached to anything else, or simply vent frustrations. When I felt especially down or when I lacked energy or spark, I would crank up some Tori Amos and just write her lyrics down as she sang them out.

And now? Time's a luxury. Time to write even more so. I know I can "make" time, but right now I feel I'm just scraping by. I try to write as much as I can, but when I've grabbed a few moments I usually can only think of how tired I am or how much stuff I have to do.

But I'm still trying. I'm still pushing my pen to paper. I don't know what will ever come of it. I'm not saying anything grand has to come of it. For me, for now, simply feeling good about creating is a dandy enough reason for me. So I'm grateful for the twenty minutes I took to write this post in addition to this one (nothing much, very off the top of my head). I'm hoping to put something up over there at least once a month. I think that's a goal I can achieve. We'll see.

Anyhow, happy new week to whomever happens to read these babblings of mine.