sundays (36/52-39/52)

35/52

36/52

37/52

38/52

38/52

sunday, september the 1st: last barbecue of the summer.

sunday, september the 8th: comic book-making, b-ball handling.

sunday, september the 15th: details (port townsend, washington).

sunday, september the 22nd: the beginning of the rain.

sunday, september 29th: always an astronomy book in her lap, always.

(sundays sundays sundays) 

sundays (32/52-34/52)

32/52

33/52

34/52

sunday, august the 11th: another sunday shift at lodekka and my girl just before church.

sunday, august the 18th: that sweet boy of mine, straw flowers from that awesome girl shana, lemonade stand shenanigans at lodekka, legos promptly purchased from the profits of said lemonade stand shenanigans (plus saved allowance), that sweet girl of mine.

sunday, august the 25th: that time we spent the night in the giant fort we built in the backyard with a hundred old bed sheets and a thousand old clothes pins and every chair we could find plus some rope I bought from the dollar tree.

(every sunday in 2013 and before the year is over, I will catch up, I will)

sundays (51/52)

sunday, december the 22nd: neon candies, ward's little gingerbread house, christmas records on repeat, string lights in great abundance, ava's tiny gingerbread castle, the way I will remember the decorations, minecraft in full effect, ezra's military gingerbread fort (cherry sours= ammunition), a beloved childhood ornament along with sweet drawings from the kids, more happy-making, my gingerbread house, the little forest that comes out once a year to live on the mantle.

it's been three years since we've been in our own home for christmas. three years. as much as we miss family, it feels good to slow down for a second, feels good to be quiet. feels good to bake in my own kitchen, wake up in my own bed on christmas eve. didn't even know how much I missed it all until now.

(sundays sundays sundays) (wrapping up the project this week)

because, christmas

am currently steeped in that lovely thing they call christmas. am back to pinching the ends off christmas tree branches for the smell of the sap, falling asleep with all the christmas lights on. am sneaking bites of leftover red velvet birthday cake in the middle of the night, waking up with teeth tinged pink. am realizing just how much I love the smell of scotch tape. scotch tape= wrapped presents.

am teaching my kids the carols I grew up singing, the ones that celebrate the birth of jesus. the ones I used to sing so loud I thought my ears would pop off, thought my cheeks would burst from the happy. am remembering my big part in the church pageant, my one big line and how I tripped over the hem of my floor-length ivory dress on the way to the microphone stand. am remembering the way I popped right back up, how the adults in the audience struggled to stifle their laughter while tears burned my eyes. I delivered that line anyway. LIKE A CHAMP. nothing could destroy my christmas spirit, I tell you. nothing.

am not suppressing the sadness. but I'm not swimming in it either. am setting out her little trees, baking her cookies, singing her songs. am remembering just how special she made each christmas, how much of a gift that was. am doing everything I can to keep that part of her alive. am celebrating even when I feel like crying because, christmas. christmas.

five years!

(la maison rose, le vélo, clés, paris)

well, folks. my little etsy shop is officially five years-old. which is sort of funny, since I hemmed and hawed like a crazy person about even opening it in the first place. exactly six hundred sales later, here I am. and I have no one but you all to thank. no better way to celebrate than with a good ole super happy 2-for-1 anniversary sale (with newly listed parisian prints in le shoppe, to boot). five day sale, friends-- five days for five years-- five is the magic number.

if you're new to this, here's how it works: buy one print, get one free. buy two, get two. three, four, five and so on and so forth (of equal or lesser value, of course yadda yadda yadda). order the print (or prints) you'd like and then, in that super duper handy dandy 'message to the seller' box, state which print (or prints) you'd like to receive gratis. voila. sale runs thursday, december 5th through monday, december 9th, midnight PST. 

(all the super happy 2-for-1 anniversary sale fun can be found here and again, I thank you, friends-- I thank you from the bottom of my super happy, super swollen love-filled heart)

december, december

over at habit this month, sharing photographs and a few words daily. hop on over, if you like.

done

nablopomo, done. for the first time ever, done. I am maybe not cut out for this daily posting thing but I love how it pushes me. maybe I'll ride this habit a lil longer. maybe I'll see what comes of it.

december is calling, friends. 2014 is not far behind.

just about perfect

am now home from yurtsgiving 2013. am tired but happy and my hair smells like smoky campfire deliciousness. am happy to report copious amounts of mashed potatoes were consumed (as was a piece of joy's sour apple pie). I remembered my coat but did not need it. surprise of all surprises, the sun came out and we all ran around willy nilly, coatless. well, until the sun went down. thankfully, we did not forget the jiffy pop or the stevie wonder record. the twinkly lights did not make it. next time, maybe. I did not get that late afternoon walk in but I did stare wide-eyed at starry, starry night skies. I could not get over all the stars, I just could not. and I thought about my mom so much. she would have been so proud of our humble little thanksgiving picnic table. she probably would not have understood a thanksgiving yurt camping trip but she would have loved that table. and she would have loved hearing all the stories. and I would have loved telling her.

if you're reading this

it means I'm crossing number four off the list. I'm hunkered down in a yurt somewhere, with no internet access. and miraculously, had the foresight to schedule this to post. because I am winning at nablopomo, I tell you. winning.

come thursday night, I hope I am looking up at a wide open sky full of stars. that I am full of mashed potatoes. I hope I got a piece of joy's sour apple pie before it got snatched up and I hope I remembered my coat. I hope we remembered the jiffy pop and the stevie wonder record and the twinkly lights. I hope that I didn't talk myself out of a late afternoon walk. because I am really, really going to need that walk. I hope the kids are having the best time, the kind they'll talk about for decades to come. I hope I am feeling my mom all around me. I hope I am comforted by that. I hope I hope I hope.

mashed potatoes

today, I am thankful for mashed potatoes. and little flowers. and about a hundred thousand other things.

but mostly, mashed potatoes.

happy thanksgiving, y'all.

sundays (31/52)

sunday, august the 4th: fleamarket sky (my kind of sky), jenny (with one heck of a vintage dress), alix (with one heck of a vintage pennant), a few lamps I wanted to take home (but didn't), jenny! at the alameda flea! also, fleamarket donuts! followed by a barbeque at greg and alix's house featuring: jenny's pretty salad, alix's sweet drinks,  wolfie/henry/ezra (plus one iphone) and mah girls. not pictured: the rest of the crew (aka greg, ward, ava) plus mildly sunburnt skin, piles of really really good things. (really really good things= stellar fleamarket scores).

back story: jenny. after all these years, jenny. whom I've been following online since 2005 and then somewhere along the way, we became friends. then she introduced me to alix and dang it if I didn't love her too. 2013 will be our year, jenny told me. just you wait and see. 2013 is when we will meet. and dang it if that's not how it played out. one whirlwind road trip to oakland and there we all were. and it was so good I can barely even stand to talk about it. so good I wanted to cry.

(sundays, sundays, sundays)

pictures of people

taking pictures. pictures of people taking pictures. this is something I like to do, this is something that makes me happy.

in other news, a few workshops are in the works. I might be coming to a city near you, 2014 might be a busy year. I am excited.

4 to the 5

celebrated mister wardomatic's birthday today with the spreading of a little bit of confetti downtown portland. because you only turn forty-five once. and a little confetti never hurt anyone.

optimism

as it turns out, I have finite amounts of optimism. it has not always been this way. in my younger years, the optimism was overflowing, limitless in supply. but now, each day provides me with a specific amount and when it runs out, that's it. everything starts to look a little differently around eight p.m., every idea, every project, everything in life, in the world. everything takes a hit. I used to fight it, used to push back with epic force until I realized the best thing I could do was to give in. let it wash over me like sleep. come morning, a fresh supply is waiting. I'm ready to take on the world again and everything in life looks a little brighter. everything (well, almost everything) seems possible.

photobooth friday

(san francisco, musee mecanique, june 2008)


(san francisco, rayko photo center, june 2013)

five years, just like that. there are differences, yes, but the big one: I did not have to pay a nine year-old ezra to sit still in the booth. I did not have to ply him with money. progress, people.