How Did I Miss This...

“A yellow dot is looming on the horizon and coming toward the banks. His arrival causes big gatherings and astonishment. “The Duck” does not have any border, it does not discriminate between people and does not convey any political message. He only represents a friendly figure shining forth with its bright yellow, all along its journeys to calm down the world tensions”
– Florentjin Hofman

Title: Rubber duck
Year: 2007
Location: river the Loire, France
Dimensions: 26 x 20 x 32 meters
Materials: inflatable, rubber coated PVC, pontoon and generator
Production: le Lieu Unique and the Biennial Estuaire

I just discovered Florentjin Hofman and wonder how I could miss something this, well, large and yellow. I mean, a duck is news to me. Well, a duck of this size, to be precise. If it weren't for random posts I would miss out...but then again, am I missing out. Is a duck news?

I feel myself rather torn. Am I missing out because I spend to much time doing this. Sometimes I find myself thinking: Why haven't they updated, it feels like forever. And other times it is more like: How can they post so much. I can't find time to sit and write, how do they do it, and do it so well? Torn. You get it.

I had to laugh when I found this graphic...ok, I get it. It can be isolating, but it feels so connecting. And I have to admit I like to see my inbox full; it's just friendlier. And it doesn't feel so fake keeping up with friends. But sometimes I wonder if I should stop and put my energy into a more tangible journal. Do you ever wonder, or is it just me?

No Way...

You Gotta Be Kidding Me!

I just adore this kid! He cracks me up -- constantly! And after he said this to me (to translate: no way, you gotta kidding me), he called my brother "Ridiculous!" Oh, and as for the rooster, Chase has carried it around for three days straight. He was born the year of the Rooster (James is studying the Chinese New Year) and it is now his most prized possesion.

Jewish Penicillin

A friend brought over the real deal - Matzah Ball Soup. And after a more complicated surgery than I had hoped, followed by adverse side effects to the general anesthesia, the soup was perfect. Becky told me it was "Jewish Penicillin," (she would know) and boy was she right.

An entirely tangential side note: before surgery you usually have to fast for 12 hours. You can't even chew gum (they didn't tell me this - and almost had to reschedule). I was simply thinking that after not eating my breath was probably less than fresh, so in went the gum. Fortunately, it worked out...but thought I would pass it on. I feel like it is the sort of thing that could come up for someone else, too.

Thank you for all your well wishes! I so appreciated them.

Rhyme Time

The only word I can think of to rhyme with surgery is perjury...what does this tell me? Well, they are both ugly words...and if nothing good rhymes with surgery it can't be a good thing...and I have surgery tomorrow.

Follow my reasoning out...rake rhymes with bake, take, steak, and cake! So, rakes must be good.

"Transporting" is Right

Leslie found this beautiful picture by Irene Suchocki over at Etsy. I had to tell you about it because first, it's beautiful, and second, Leslie is famous. She is guest blogging at Design Mom this week.

And if you are newer to blogging, let me translate. My friend that I lived in London with (you can click on her name and go to her sight), was browsing Etsy (a web site that is like a virtual arts and crafts fair - all sorts of people make things and sell things - you can search by color or object - and its all pretty affordable) and found a painting by some talented lady. In addition, she is writing blogs over at a really popular website - I think its a top 3 "mom" blog site - anyhow, that makes her famous to me!

Oh, and with my stone, pain, and nausea I could use a little transporting...I know, still!

LalalaLondon

My littlest sister, Abbie, is off...to study abroad in London...I already miss her...and desperately want to be her right now...she just did her first post at AndtheFreshness.blogspot.com -- hooray!

She has so much loveliness ahead, but I can't help but think back. Living in London was one of my happiest times. There is just something magical about a place with so much rich history. In fact, when my mind drifts I often find myself somewhere in England - usually the North (Chatsworth maybe). Do you ever do that? Anyhow, it wasn't just the places, it was the people I was with.

Stream of Consciousness

Warning: this stream of consciousness might not make sense...so read on at your own risk

i swear self-doubt is a creaping creature i can not rid myself of. [deep breath] i went back to the doctor because i'm not producing any treasures, but at the same time, i'm not in that much pain. in fact, at some moments during the day i don't feel a thing. so, as i sat down with the doctor i expected him to say something like, you never had a kidney stone, you must have imagined it all. the pain. the emergency room. never happened. and because i have a vivid imagination, i was prepared to say, something like, woops. i was afraid i was wrong. [deep breath] but, thankfully i'm not delusional (or maybe i'd rather be wrong because then i wouldn't have to keep medicating and hoping and drowning myself in water), there is indeed a pea size stone inside my body. so, i was right. it did hurt. and sometimes still does. and its ok. and might take two weeks. and that's just what happens...but what are the kinds of things i do imagine? what am i wrong about. i seem to ask myself and doubt myself more than i should. i'll find an awesome book and then a month later i'll read about it somewhere and think, why didn't i tell everyone about that -why didn't i trust myself and my taste. perhaps i am just in a self-doubting phase that comes about when the rug is ripped from underneath you. or perhaps, my self-esteem isn't what it should be. no, that's not it. i fancy myself too much, truth be told. maybe its just what makes us human - questions, that is (not doubt). sigh. i can't think about this any longer, tomorrow. i'll think about it tomorrow. and for now, i'll remind myself that there are stones i like: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires (i just love sapphires), and obsidian with its jet black and shiny surface. yes, i'll just think about that now.

the real E.R.

I hate it when my blog titles are right, because it indeed "Could Be Worse" and it has been. I've been spending my time between the bathroom and the hospital...don't you wish going to the hospital was a little bit more like tv: the fast dialog and pace of ER or the beautiful faces of Grey's Anatomy or I'd even take the the sarcastic rudness of Dr. House because at least his hospital seems clean. If only...


I've been having back pain, and when it became intolerable I knew it wasn't just a strained muscle. I knew that something was really wrong. After an emergency visit that lasted eight hours, an IV, a CT scan, and a good deal of morphine I learned that I have a kidney stone.


A kidney stone; doesn't that sound horribly daunting. Doesn't that sound like something that happens to other people and not you. Aren't I too young - or rather, I wish I was too young. What I learned is that it's just about managing the pain until it passes. Passes - ugh. Moving forward, I won't be using the term passes because its just sounds so terribly wrong. We use "pass" for gas and death - and I would rather not use it for little rocks forming inside my body. Because what business do little rocks have in my body?!

And as for the pain, I can only compare it to labor - truly. But, there won't be a cute little baby at the end which makes it all worthwhile. Yuck...

It Could Be Worse

My obsession started with a dress. A green dress.

First Cee wore black, then pink, then decided upon green --well, that's what happened in the book.


In the movie, she only changes once. But thankfully still ends up wearing green. This green dress.


I can imagine myself walking down Scarlett O'Hara's stairs, or running through Anne's fields wearing this very dress. Or I could be Cee - because I do love a tragedy. Sigh.


What do you think about a girl (me) who obsesses with a dress? I know what I think...I think that there could be worse things to obsess over, and that at least she has nice posture (well, nicer posture then I).

Resolution 2008

I do not make resolutions; therefore, I do not fail at resolutions. Its that simple - don't make 'em, you can't break 'em. Besides, everyone seems to resolve to eat less and exercise more -- how boring is that?! Pretty boring. Anyhow, we all know we should, so there's no reason to give it an austere title like: RESOLUTION.

But, about four months ago I thought of one. A real one. A good one. Something I really need to work on. But did I start working on it then, in my moment of epiphany? No! If I had done that, there would be no resolution for 2008. So, here it is, my Resolution for real...

I've got to work on my posture.

I will work on my posture.

But, I still don't know how. Apparently, the resolving isn't enough. I need a game plan. The only thing I can think of is to set my phone at various times throughout the day to check myself. Sigh. I'm afraid I'm already doomed.

No, I'll work on it. You'll see. I resolved, for Pete's sake!

Don't Forget the Reindeer

This year was all about the Reindeer; the boys put out veggies for Rudolph and the gang. And Chase was certain that Santa wanted Soy Milk - like him. I'd like to report that everything was eaten.

Merry Christmas!

Henry Theodore Robinson

At the funeral my dad told this story, and I can't help but feel grateful for the wisdom from the story and its metaphor. When my dad was younger he went to shear sheep with his father. After working all day (literally sweating and struggling and wrestling) my dad was able to shear 13 sheep; in the same amount of time my grandpa had sheared 113 sheep--one hundred sheep more. My dad felt timorous with his small offering, but my grandpa cheerfully accepted his part and said, "Well, that's 13 I didn't have to do."

There are times in our life that we have more to give and others we simply have less. When our offering is 13 do we feel ashamed by our part, heaping pressure and judgement upon ourselves? Or do we see it as a vital part; an important part needed to make the whole? At other times, when we offer 113 how do we perceive the smaller offerings? Do we begrudge those who have a smaller part? Do we judge them against ourselves. Or do we take one another's offerings as rich and vital?

I'm thankful for this moment, for my grandpa henry validating my father's offering.

Give Aways...

So, I learned about Oneity recently. You can read about them here. But, basically they are a small boutique that gets fabric all over the world, and then gives back to the communities that make the fabric...pretty good.

Anyhow, they've asked me to do occasional book reviews...and this week they are doing give aways. A lot of places do giveaways, but with 450 comments over at Design Mom the chances of being chosen are pretty small. But, very few people know about Oneity so far! So, I just thought I'd share. Because you can't go wrong with cute and free giveaways (a new one tomorrow).

UPDATE 1/3 - They are doing give aways each week - I'm telling you, its so fun to win something!

Once there was a Snowman

My Grandpa Henry passed away last week and we all went to Utah for the funeral. Funerals are always such a mix of emotion. Highs and lows, laughter and tears.

One of the highlights was the snow...I'd like to draw your attention to the Dora Boots. I've always said, it takes a real man to wear pink!

The Birthday Boy

Every good sports party needs a football cake complete with goal posts and green coconut for grass. And it is requisite that your favorite team (NY Giants) are winning against your least favorite team (SF 49ers).

A party can only be better when you are dressed in your Uncle Ben's XXL jersey, shorts, and hu-normous shoes -- for the sake of relay.

Best friends are a must! Justin on his right and Christian on his left.

Happy 6th Birthday, James!

Bookclub Top Five

At book clubs across America, I am sure some of the choicest, strangest, and funniest sentiments are uttered...I am going to share my top five from last night; Letterman style.

5. Women writers write round and flowing, like a uterus...or so says an unnamed professor.
4. As I was filling out papers at the bank with my pregnant tummy and two year old sitting on my lap, they asked my occupation and I answered, "Nothing."
3. Did I spill orange juice? (the answer was no, lactation can just be that fun)
2. Lets go toilet paper his house...with pitchforks and torches...in true Medieval style.
1. In response to the infamous Jerry McGuire quote: If he had you at hello, you should run the other way.

The Cutest Little Shepherd & Joseph

Little Faces I Love the Mostest

Trees, etc.

This morning at James' school, we were being presented to the class. He is sunshiner of the week and got to bring his family today. All of the children were asking us questions. One little boy asked, "What is your favorite tree?" James said redwood without thinking twice. I said any willow; but truthfully need more time to answer such a question. Grammy said oak. And Chase said, "orange." He-Hee, I thought, what's an orange tree. I pictured an orange trunk, well something like this:

but when I went searching for an image of an imaginary orange colored tree, this is what I found:

duh! Of course I know oranges do grow on trees...orange trees; but that's not what I thought of, at all...well, in my defense, an orange colored tree could be lovely. Sometimes I look straight to the obvious and not beyond.

Do you have a favorite tree? (Is that something people have favorites of, anyway?)

I Have a Muscle

I am a rock climber. Ok, that's a little bold. I am more of a rock climbing wannabe. But, in either case, I recently looked down at my bicept and, well...I had one. Its easier to feel than see. But, there in Planet Granite, I saw it. A real live arm muscle. This is new to me and my arms and quite exciting.


But, because no one wants to see pictures of adults in harnesses, I'm posting a picture of cute James recently climbing. Now, he does look cute in a harness!

Birthday Blues

So James turns 6 in about a week and a half. I'm blue that he's getting older, but I'm also just blue about the party. He keeps talking about these grand birthday ideas - inviting his whole school class and such. And I'm not really up to a big bash - nor do I want to spend billions on a party. Not to mention the fact I haven't planned anything yet. So, what should I do? Any fun, cheap, semi-social ideas?

Snoozer

I'll admit it, I'm a snoozer, as in someone who doesn't get right up at the sound of an alarm. As in, someone who doesn't pop right up with sunshine in her soul. As in, someone who really shouldn't be talked to until post-shower. It takes a little work to get me going. But, I haven't given up on me.

I think it makes it harder when the laws of nature are againt you...isn't Newton's Third Law of Motion something like: Objects at rest tend to stay at rest. Well, I submit, it's true with people. Once I'm going, I'm good. But, the getting going is so tough sometimes.

So, what gets me going...two little voices sweetly pleading for books or cereal. That's the main thing.

But sometimes I feel stuck. For example, someone asked a great question about motivation at Ask Angie. I couldn't even start to think of a response. So, I do what I often do when I am stuck, I ask a friend. In this case I asked my dear friend Hannah to help. She is a wonderful teacher and parent and woman. And she was able to answer the question a way I couldn't, with a perspective I totally needed. And although, I'm not an unmotivated six year old, it really got me thinking. I realized that IDEAS are what inpsire me. And just reading her ideas I was able to think of some myself. Anyhow, you'll really have to read her words because they are beautiful!

Call Me Smurfette

I wore bright blue tights yesterday with a simple black dress...and I felt fabulous. I don't know if I looked fabulous, but I've been talking about colored tights all season and I finally worked up the courage to do it! No compliments, but a lot of eye attention (the nice way to say shocked glances).

iTunes - Jason Mraz

Last night I had to find a family picture for James to take to school. The task was much harder than it sounds, much harder than it should be. As I started sifting through pictures, the tears that are always just beneath the surface came. The hard part was that the pictures were all so happy. Times of laughter and goodness. I love what we built...but that didn't prevent the cheating and the pain it still causes me. And although a good angry-chick-song is great to run to...this one captures my sorrow of a good thing lost.

You and I by Jason Mraz

...Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just read of
Others only read of the love,
the love that I love.

See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages for words
More words then I had ever heard
...
And if you could see me now,Oh love, no
You and I, you and I
Not so little you and I anymore, mmm...

And if you could see me now
Well I'm almost finally out of
I'm finally out of
Well I'm almost finally, finally
Well I'm free, oh, I'm ...
I'm almost finally, finally, out of words.

But, if you do know a good angry song, I really do run better...and would love something new!

Run, Do Not Walk

I repeat. Run, do not walk to your nearest Trader Joe's. I wasn't in time to try them last year. But now that I have, they are all I can think about. Candy cane cookies - who knew?! Now all I need is a scoop of the seasonal Dreyer's/Eddy's Peppermint ice cream with these cookies crumbled on top. Peppermint Heaven.

2, 4, 6, 8...

Who do we appreciate?
The Jay Hawks, (clap, clap) The Jay Hawks!

Now, you may be wondering if there is a real school in Arizona that is referred to as the The Jay Hawks. The answer is no. But, after watching a few college football games he came to me with an idea,


"Mom, can we make up our own colleges? You know, with posters so that people will want to come to our school?"


"Sure, James, that's a great idea. Can we work on something together, though?"


"Okay. I'm going to make the sports poster for the Arizona Jay Hawks. You make a list of all the classes...make 'em hard, mom, because, you know, college is a higher level of learning."


A higher level of learning? I think this kid has seen one too many a college commercial. Every Saturday he has a new school he has to go to (and we don't watch that much football). So far he wants to go to: Duke, Stanford, BYU, Kansas (the real Jay Hawks), and Marquette (he wants to be a Golden Eagle). The mascots are big deciding factors - and why not decide your college based on what costumed creature will be energizing your cheers...and fears, for that matter.

sytycd

i wish i could dance, but know that i can't. but, watching these people perform makes me want to get up and shake my groove thang. i missed them on tour last year, but not this year!

i only recorded a part of the dance, but its Hawk, Sarah, and Dominic doing a choreographed break dance routine...

I am Thankful for Verbs

For my birthday, I got a new camera that can actually capture action! So, here are my boys in full action at the Marine Reserve. And speaking of action, I'd like to wish you a Holiday full of some of my favorite verbs:

cooking, eating, laughing, smiling, hugging, helping, greeting, sauteing, reuniting, smelling, stirring, sipping, story-telling, and of course more eating

Think, Think, Think

I can't stop thinking about a recent article in the National Geographic. Joshua Foer explores memory and raises a serious question...

He suggests that "over the past millennuim, many of us have undergone a profound shift. We've gradually replaced our internal memory with what psychologists refer to as external memory, a vast superstructure of techonolgical crutches that we've invented so that we don't have to store information in our brains." Everything from computers, to calendars, to post-its allow us to remember awfully little.

I think he's got a point...I can still remember the phone numbers of girls I would call in eighth grade; but I've got no clue what my sisters' cell numbers are right now. The numbers are happily programmed into my phone; safely stored so that I don't have to use my head.

The great storytellers, like Homer, memorized the epics Iliad and Odyssey. I, quite frankly, don't think I could retell Goodnight Moon without forgetting the mittens or possibly the kittens.

And while I may remember every detail of this week's Gossip Girl, I can't possibly remember my own drama. The stories of who I am: freshman year antics, high school pranks, and even early mothering moments. Hearing things I said or did seem distant; familiar, but oddly separate sometimes.

I guess I am making a plea to myself. To stretch my brain. Realize that I have to make an effort to remember. That my re-remembering is up to me. And that ultimately "in the archives of [our] brain, our lives linger or disapper."

In the words of Winnie the Pooh: Think, think, think, think...and I just may memorize a phone number this week - to see if I still can!

Sculpture: The Thinker by Auguste Rodin

The Return of Mr. Potato

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who loved potatoes. He would eat potatoes. He would pile potatoes. He would mash potatoes.


On one crisp fall day, he found himself in tears. Books couldn't soothe him, cars and trucks couldn't soothe him, not even Thomas the famous Train could soothe him.


Fortunately, his mother had a bright idea. She remembered another very desperately sad day and the solution then. Could it work again? Certainly it couldn't. Or could it?


She tried. And taking Mr. Potato into the shower to wash and cradle and care for was the answer, again. So, here's to the little boy who loves potatoes so much he actually bathes with them.

The End.

Click here to see what happened last time.

Bravo for Bravo

Tonight the new season of Project Runway starts! I just can't wait - I've missed my weekly dose of design and drama. All I can say is, it's about time. I think they reran each season 9-10 times. Hooray for a breath of fresh fabric air!

(Oh, the sketches are Laura's - she wasn't my favorite designer, but she uses more color in her sketches than some of the others)

Barefoot at Bookclub

We read the play Barefoot in the Park for bookclub...and we discussed the Twilight Series to get it out of the system. But, let me just tell you that when I went to snap this photo (after noticing that most people were barefooted), the laments of chipped nail polish and unmanicured toes filled the room. Isn't it funny that we can feel silly about the silliest things. No one will even know whose toes are whose - but somehow we seem to care just enough...

At the end of the night I had a full stomach and a lighter heart. I just love chit-chatting and bookclubs.

Should I or Shouldn't I?

Someone recently asked me to do the flowers for her wedding...

I've done two wedding this year, but just for fun and favors. No one paid me - I just got to play flower shop. And truth be told, I'm getting all the credit but my mom deserves much of it.

So, here's the question: should I do it?

I've never done the boutonnieres (and I told her that). I'm not professional - opinionated and fine taste, yes - but professional I am not.

I am very good with my use of curly willow.

Oh, and she wants all green flowers - which would be a dream.
I don't know.

But, it's a pretty tough scene to fail at...

For Abbie

I Did It!

My first half marathon!

And They're Off

Wish me luck. My Asics and I are off to run the Big Sur Half Marathon I signed up for (I'm wondering why at about this moment). Anyhow, I'm about to be left in the dust by my sister, brother, brother's girlfriend, and father. My only goal: to finish.

Seniors Rule!

I met with some friends over burgers and fries. And chit-chatting with my high school friends, prompted something unexpected. I got out my high school yearbook and read the old notes. That's right - I walked down memory lane. And suddenly, a decade doesn't seem so far gone. The silliness still bubbles from within and I certainly haven't gotten any taller. I even examined the yearbook page we made with our memories -- and what memories. So many firsts.

Of course, now there are new and bigger trials; fragile babies, lost love, and future uncertainty. But, there is hope too. I admire these women and feel glad to know them; then and now.

Goodbye, Cheese House

Misty water-colored memories of the way we were...

When we went to The Village Cheese House yesterday to buy our old-fashioned turkey sandwiches on light rye, the owner told us that it was the last day...and with a bit of a stutter, I said, "Bbbbut your signs all say that you are remodeling."

"Well, the new owners didn't want the community to get upset or really even know."

"The new owners?!! Are they going to keep the imported chocolate treats? Are they going to make the sandwiches the same? Are they going to change the decor?"

"They have to keep the name the same, and the sandwiches."

But, with a shift in ambiance, I doubt the sandwiches will taste the same. I met the new owners and they miss the European flair and roots. I'm sorry, but uptight and snobby jeans just isn't the Cheese House style. Its closed until February. And the other people in the store and I were near tears (no joke). I am so sad about this. The Cheese House is just a part of Palo Alto - the part with character and yumminess.

I feel like I have been mourning so many of my lost dreams and hopes lately, that I just don't want to have to mourn my sandwiches. And if you think I am being facetious, I'm not. The Cheese House is the kind of place you miss when you are away, and think of it fondly every minute until you return.

Goodbye, Cheese House and the yummiest sandwiches I've known.

R.I.P.

James filled our windows with a graveyard of tombs...

~

Rest in Peace

~

Hannah Witchkins
1989-2001
Drowned in her Soup
~

Chase Ghoster
1807-1986
Got Tackled too Hard

~

James McWolf
1709-2001
Swallowed Nuclear Waste

~

Diggery Gholin
1600-1709
His Fake Teeth Bit him to Death

~

Justin Goulin
1956-1999
Ran into a Tree

To the Fullest

I have a favorite children's illustrator - her art is clearly not childish - delicate and moving are better words to describe Lisbeth Zwerger's creations. I was recently given The Selfish Giant by a woman I admire, but hardly know. What a gift. How can someone who doesn't know you give you the perfect treasure? I don't understand it - but I know that I want to be like this woman. Her husband passed away ten years ago and yet she seems to thrive and quietly enjoy life. I don't know much, but she is an inspiration. A piece of me wants to keep gathering and quietly collecting these books as a reminder of a goodness I can't describe, but I feel so deeply.

Naughty & Nice

I know that Santa's making a list and checking it twice. And I'm really concerned for my naughty child right now. He threw the remote at the nice one...and he's now sporting quite the shiner. Poor kid - as if being sick wasn't enough.

It's a good thing I can answer parenting questions as Ask Miss Angie - seeing as I have the perfect kids and all, oh wait...