my garden has been calling me out with my camera first thing the last two mornings. My neighbors think I'm a little off. This was taken while wearing blue polka dot pjs, sitting on the rain wet ground with my camera.
It feels so good to start the day this way.
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Saturday, October 20, 2007
An Embarrassment of Riches
What a start to my weekend! On Wednesday, I told you about my freaky phone conversation with my long lost friend from my other life who is now a PTO mom just like me in our small town. That was one of those cool things that could have lasted me for at least a week or two.
But the goodness just kept going: on Thursday, Joe-Henry and I had dinner at our favorite spot in Portland with some dear friends who were up here scouting the area from LA. I met my friend Shannon when we were in the same theater company down there. She is one of those women: frighteningly gorgeous, amazingly talented and one of the most intuitive and loyal friends you will ever meet. She is one the friends who saved my life when we were getting ready to move here. She is one of the friends I missed like crazy when I got here. But now, NOW, oh, I'm almost too excited to type the words: they are moving to the Portland area. They have their reasons - his daily four hour commute, better schools at more affordable prices, and yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, they're moving up HERE! They had planned the rest of the weekend to scout Seattle, but they aren't even making it up there - they're going to hunt in earnest here! Wooooohoooooooooooooooo! And can I say, right here, right now, I am itching to help her on this end, because lapsed Lutheran girls are like elephants: we never forget a kindness, and returning the favor is a necessity.
As if THAT weren't enough to make me dance around like a freaky balloon on tainted helium, I got to go on a date with my husband last night! It was so perfect, and so needed. My week at school was trying, my cold still hanging on, my voice shot, and my last good nerve was twitching. He had worked late all week, and I was asleep before he got home almost every night, and darn it, I missed him!
So I called in the troups and my niece and her husband came over for pizza, they brought a movie, and entertained Joe-Henry while we headed out for a grown-up evening. And we got to go out for a quick dinner: it had to be quick, the movie started in an hour and the restaurant closed in 10 minutes, so we got it to go, took it to the car, turned on some good music and sat in the dark in the rain and talked about everything. We haven't steamed up the windows like that since we were dating. Then, we saw one of the best movies I've seen in YEARS. We went to see Michael Clayton. It had everything, it was a thriller AND a character study AND just a flippin' good story. Well written, brilliantly acted, and perfectly directed. So. damn. good. It reminded me of those movies from the seventies that took their time telling the story, and where you wind up at the end is miles from where you thought you would at the beginning. Oh, and did I mention it had George Clooney? In a suit? For the whole movie? If the movie wasn't so brilliant, I could have done my review in one word:
Damp.
But the movie WAS brilliant, so I am telling you - if you like grown up movies where the bad guys aren't stereotypes that you can spot in a crowd, and the good guys are morally ambiguous (and look like George Clooney), and the story will leave you thinking about it for days, then run, don't walk to see this movie.
This morning, I'm tucked in on the couch, great coffee, great music, my favorite almost seven year old playing with trucks on the floor, my handsome, smart, witty, sexy husband downstairs building a fire while the rain taps away on our roof, wondering how I got so lucky.
But the goodness just kept going: on Thursday, Joe-Henry and I had dinner at our favorite spot in Portland with some dear friends who were up here scouting the area from LA. I met my friend Shannon when we were in the same theater company down there. She is one of those women: frighteningly gorgeous, amazingly talented and one of the most intuitive and loyal friends you will ever meet. She is one the friends who saved my life when we were getting ready to move here. She is one of the friends I missed like crazy when I got here. But now, NOW, oh, I'm almost too excited to type the words: they are moving to the Portland area. They have their reasons - his daily four hour commute, better schools at more affordable prices, and yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, they're moving up HERE! They had planned the rest of the weekend to scout Seattle, but they aren't even making it up there - they're going to hunt in earnest here! Wooooohoooooooooooooooo! And can I say, right here, right now, I am itching to help her on this end, because lapsed Lutheran girls are like elephants: we never forget a kindness, and returning the favor is a necessity.
As if THAT weren't enough to make me dance around like a freaky balloon on tainted helium, I got to go on a date with my husband last night! It was so perfect, and so needed. My week at school was trying, my cold still hanging on, my voice shot, and my last good nerve was twitching. He had worked late all week, and I was asleep before he got home almost every night, and darn it, I missed him!
So I called in the troups and my niece and her husband came over for pizza, they brought a movie, and entertained Joe-Henry while we headed out for a grown-up evening. And we got to go out for a quick dinner: it had to be quick, the movie started in an hour and the restaurant closed in 10 minutes, so we got it to go, took it to the car, turned on some good music and sat in the dark in the rain and talked about everything. We haven't steamed up the windows like that since we were dating. Then, we saw one of the best movies I've seen in YEARS. We went to see Michael Clayton. It had everything, it was a thriller AND a character study AND just a flippin' good story. Well written, brilliantly acted, and perfectly directed. So. damn. good. It reminded me of those movies from the seventies that took their time telling the story, and where you wind up at the end is miles from where you thought you would at the beginning. Oh, and did I mention it had George Clooney? In a suit? For the whole movie? If the movie wasn't so brilliant, I could have done my review in one word:
Damp.
But the movie WAS brilliant, so I am telling you - if you like grown up movies where the bad guys aren't stereotypes that you can spot in a crowd, and the good guys are morally ambiguous (and look like George Clooney), and the story will leave you thinking about it for days, then run, don't walk to see this movie.
This morning, I'm tucked in on the couch, great coffee, great music, my favorite almost seven year old playing with trucks on the floor, my handsome, smart, witty, sexy husband downstairs building a fire while the rain taps away on our roof, wondering how I got so lucky.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
"thank you for the blessings"
That's the grace we say at our table. It's cobbled together out of my lapsed Lutheran upbringing (where we said grace before my mom died, and then sat in front of the tv with tv trays after she died and said nothing but pass the ketchup), my son's Fire and Brimstone Lutheran preschool grace, and my husband's deeply spiritual athiest beliefs. If we were a dog, we'd be a mutt - soulful, loyal and kind of mangy.
But last night, we said it at our table, holding hands, just as we do everytime we gather together at our table. And I felt deeply, humbly, grateful. I had a horrible flu yesterday, the kind where I actually slept during the day (which I NEVER can do unless I'm sick), I ached in my hair and my eyelashes, and coudn't get warm until I finally figured out to put my hands in the pockets of my robe, buried under down comforters. My husband called in to work, arranged to stay home, even though I told him he didn't have to. I would have crawled out of bed and walked Joe-Henry to the bus, and home again, but he wouldn't hear of it. He got Joe-Henry dressed and walked him to the bus stop in the sleeting rain, came back and did laundry, made me tea, and let me sleep the sleep of the drugged. He brought me flu medicine and the 50 lb. Vanity Fair, hunted all over for my reading glasses, made a delicious dinner and kept his sense of humor. I mention this, because I am not particularly a great nurse. I get things done, but I am efficient, in a Nurse Ratchet kind of way.
He inspired me. He is always a hardworking, loving, hysterically funny husband. And he wears a kilt! There are times when the wave we are riding seems to be too huge to believe that we won't be capsized, but we hang on - to each other, to the promise of the future, to this sweet, funny kid who could make a ride on the Titanic a lot more fun. Not that I'm comparing our marriage to the Titanic, but there have been some rough seas. But our little boat has been pretty sturdy so far.
So, Sweetheart, for no reason other than the fact that you did what you always do - you gave me your best self, selflessly - I love you. Thank you for the blessings.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
anticipation
I don't know which will be more difficult tonight - settling Joe-Henry down enough to get him to sleep, or sending me off to slumber land. My husband and I are both feeling quite elf-ish, and I've come to realize that the elf sleep cycle is quite different from my own. This past week, I've had a hard time sleeping. Either I can't go to sleep, or I can't stay asleep. It's mystified me. I'm not anxious, I'm not worried... why can't I sleep? I think I've figured it out.
I'm excited. I'm looking forward to Christmas in a new way this year. There have been so many changes this past year, and I don't think the reason I'm excited is because we will be spending it with most of my family (although I'm really really looking forward to that), rather than my husband's. I love his family dearly, and we will all miss them this year. Their Christmas' are a thing of wonder, and I have spent the last 15 years celebrating with them, and I will miss them and long for their laughter and love. So that's not it either. I think the reason I'm so excited is because Joe-Henry is six. It's a magical year. He is so happy and filled with sugarplums and wonder, it's hard not to eat him. He's also wound up like a little toy, with no signs of slowing down until about December 28th. That's when the crash will come for all of us, I expect.
There is also, I think, a real sense of this time passing. Of the need to appreciate all the gifts that are laying about my feet every day (along with toy trains and cars and stickers on my walls). I gaze at the lashes resting on his pink cheeks when he's asleep, the way his hand curls protectively around his stuffed animals, and can almost watch him grow. He's taller this year, his face is changing, the bone structure shifting to accomodate new molars, his brain resting up so that tomorrow he'll have energy to grasp even more complex theories. Like, maybe, the fact that Santa is really mom and dad.
Until then, my heart is open to now, to this wonder that is my life. But I'm still really, really excited.
Blessings and wonder and magic to you all.
Friday, December 15, 2006
counting my blessings, part II
As I was laying upstairs on the couch, nursing my ailing sinuses, I thought of a few more things I am truly grateful for.
My friend Dayna, who sent chocolate covered almond toffee. That's not the only reason I'm thankful for her though - she's the kind of pal who encourages you to shine at your brightest just by being her wonderful self. She's smart and thoughtful and beautiful, and I'm so lucky to know her.
My brother Jim and his girlfriend Judy. They've been so wonderful to us as we've made the adjustment of our move. Babysitting, wonderful visits and help with big stuff around our house. They even built our shed, with the help of Jim's friend Ray, and most especially Judy's brother Barry and his wife Kathy. They did a great job, too. It stood firm in a major windstorm last night. The fence made it too! They've been shoring us up and helping us to stand, too. Moving is a huge adjustment, and if we hadn't had them on this end, we might have fallen apart. Thank you so much.
My sister Jan and her family and my brother Dale: My big sister and other big brother. I am so grateful to have family that I love to be around. I know it's not always the case in families. I'm really lucky. We genuinely like each other. We don't always agree, but we get along. I'm grateful to my parents for raising us that way.
My husband Charley. He's committed to us - to his little family. He works hard at something he likes but doesn't love to put food on our table. He's determined and interested in the world and he's a great listener. He knows me so well, and is the best partner I could ask for in this life. He takes good care of himself, riding his bike to work, losing weight, and being himself. I am grateful to have such a loving husband who still makes me laugh and takes my breath away when he walks into a room.
My son, who is almost always happy. I am grateful for his health, for his beautiful, creative, bright mind, and for the way he helps me see the world in a new way. For the sound of his voice, for his amazing musical gifts, for his stubbornness, for his sense of humor and for his loving, forgiving nature. I am not always the mother I want to be. I get frustrated and angry, I get impatient and can be too much of a perfectionist. He can be a pill, pushing my buttons until I want to run screaming, if not to a life without children, at least to a Starbucks, where I can nurse a decaf soy latte and listen to my iPod. But we get back in the ring everyday. And when we're not duking it out, we're in each other's corner, coaxing, encouraging, offering up love and kisses. I am so incredibly lucky to be his mom.
There's so much more to be thankful for, but I"ll just mention this last thing. I'm grateful that my son is in school for two more hours, so that I can take a nap.
My friend Dayna, who sent chocolate covered almond toffee. That's not the only reason I'm thankful for her though - she's the kind of pal who encourages you to shine at your brightest just by being her wonderful self. She's smart and thoughtful and beautiful, and I'm so lucky to know her.
My brother Jim and his girlfriend Judy. They've been so wonderful to us as we've made the adjustment of our move. Babysitting, wonderful visits and help with big stuff around our house. They even built our shed, with the help of Jim's friend Ray, and most especially Judy's brother Barry and his wife Kathy. They did a great job, too. It stood firm in a major windstorm last night. The fence made it too! They've been shoring us up and helping us to stand, too. Moving is a huge adjustment, and if we hadn't had them on this end, we might have fallen apart. Thank you so much.
My sister Jan and her family and my brother Dale: My big sister and other big brother. I am so grateful to have family that I love to be around. I know it's not always the case in families. I'm really lucky. We genuinely like each other. We don't always agree, but we get along. I'm grateful to my parents for raising us that way.
My husband Charley. He's committed to us - to his little family. He works hard at something he likes but doesn't love to put food on our table. He's determined and interested in the world and he's a great listener. He knows me so well, and is the best partner I could ask for in this life. He takes good care of himself, riding his bike to work, losing weight, and being himself. I am grateful to have such a loving husband who still makes me laugh and takes my breath away when he walks into a room.
My son, who is almost always happy. I am grateful for his health, for his beautiful, creative, bright mind, and for the way he helps me see the world in a new way. For the sound of his voice, for his amazing musical gifts, for his stubbornness, for his sense of humor and for his loving, forgiving nature. I am not always the mother I want to be. I get frustrated and angry, I get impatient and can be too much of a perfectionist. He can be a pill, pushing my buttons until I want to run screaming, if not to a life without children, at least to a Starbucks, where I can nurse a decaf soy latte and listen to my iPod. But we get back in the ring everyday. And when we're not duking it out, we're in each other's corner, coaxing, encouraging, offering up love and kisses. I am so incredibly lucky to be his mom.
There's so much more to be thankful for, but I"ll just mention this last thing. I'm grateful that my son is in school for two more hours, so that I can take a nap.
Monday, December 4, 2006
counting my blessings
I am thankful for:
My husband, who believes I am as strong as I try to be.
My son, who knows I'm not, but loves me anyway.
My girlfriends, who let me vent, and cry and laugh with me and keep me sane.
Especially my friends who helped me move back in April.
Amy, who is organized and kind and steady, and through just showing up, again and again without my asking kept me alive. Really.
Shannon, who packed my kitchen, listened to me weep, and kept smiling through it all, even tucking away a lovely note in my coffee pot (which I eventually found!)
Erin, who showed up the night before the truck left, completely unasked and was there packing up my bathroom when I got back from buying more boxes.
Jana, who kept me tethered to the real world, and fed me every Tuesday night while the kids played and laughed.
Jackie, my amazing sister-in-law, who helped me pack that last night into the wee hours, and showed up the next morning with donuts for the movers.
My nephew Matt, who showed up on moving day and hauled some really big stuff to the goodwill, and was really sweet.
My mother-in-law and father-in-law and Sandy (especially them, they helped even though they REALLY DIDN'T WANT US TO MOVE), who helped us pack, and miss us like crazy, and love us because we're their kids, and want what's best for us.
Our realtor, Renu, who brought pie at 9:30 at night the night before our truck left, knowing I would be up until morning, and pie is good.
Our mover, Chuck, who made me breathe easier about everything, who was calm and incredibly detailed and great at what he did, and made me feel like even if I didn't arrive in one piece, everything else would.
I am standing now at a safe distance from that crazy time, but I'm feeling emotional about it today. Auld Lang Syne-ish.
Maybe it's because I'm writing my Christmas cards, and I'm feeling overwhelmed by this flood of love and goodwill I feel. Or maybe I'm on the sappy end of my hormone rush. It could be a wicked combination of both. Even so, it doesn't make it any less true.
I am so grateful. I am so blessed.
My husband, who believes I am as strong as I try to be.
My son, who knows I'm not, but loves me anyway.
My girlfriends, who let me vent, and cry and laugh with me and keep me sane.
Especially my friends who helped me move back in April.
Amy, who is organized and kind and steady, and through just showing up, again and again without my asking kept me alive. Really.
Shannon, who packed my kitchen, listened to me weep, and kept smiling through it all, even tucking away a lovely note in my coffee pot (which I eventually found!)
Erin, who showed up the night before the truck left, completely unasked and was there packing up my bathroom when I got back from buying more boxes.
Jana, who kept me tethered to the real world, and fed me every Tuesday night while the kids played and laughed.
Jackie, my amazing sister-in-law, who helped me pack that last night into the wee hours, and showed up the next morning with donuts for the movers.
My nephew Matt, who showed up on moving day and hauled some really big stuff to the goodwill, and was really sweet.
My mother-in-law and father-in-law and Sandy (especially them, they helped even though they REALLY DIDN'T WANT US TO MOVE), who helped us pack, and miss us like crazy, and love us because we're their kids, and want what's best for us.
Our realtor, Renu, who brought pie at 9:30 at night the night before our truck left, knowing I would be up until morning, and pie is good.
Our mover, Chuck, who made me breathe easier about everything, who was calm and incredibly detailed and great at what he did, and made me feel like even if I didn't arrive in one piece, everything else would.
I am standing now at a safe distance from that crazy time, but I'm feeling emotional about it today. Auld Lang Syne-ish.
Maybe it's because I'm writing my Christmas cards, and I'm feeling overwhelmed by this flood of love and goodwill I feel. Or maybe I'm on the sappy end of my hormone rush. It could be a wicked combination of both. Even so, it doesn't make it any less true.
I am so grateful. I am so blessed.
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