Bull Run Writings

"All Set With That"

2011-12-21T05:38:00.000-08:00

The other day at church, a young woman with three children between the ages of four and seven (I'm guessing), was trying to keep them from running amok through the fellowship hall which has all kinds of neat things that basements offer--like those support poles that we all swung around and tried to climb when we were that age. (Well, I know I did, anyway.) I just smiled that "I understand" smile I offer harried parents, to which she responded, "Free to good home!"

"No thanks, I'm all set with that," I laughed. And boy is it true.

As much fun as it is to hold a baby, look at my children's toddler pictures and read through their old schoolwork, I am glad they aren't kiddies any more. I have nil desire to give birth again, to wake up to cries for food, diaper changes and/or attention, to chase creatures that by right should not have the ability to run so fast at such a young age or to terrify myself trying to take a pre-schooler to a mall around Christmas. Accuse me of being heartless, if you will, but I speak the truth. I am happy to be where I am, which happens to be a place that allows me to be super-sentimental whenever I wish without being interrupted by the crash and burn of normal household items.

This doesn't mean I don't have to get up in the middle of the night, deal with puke, fret over those who require my care or assume the Christmas tree is safe. I do have two cats, two dogs and two fish, after all (though the two fish probably can't do anything worse than dying). When my students, who seem to require a lot of mothering that I am more than willing to provide, ask if I have kids, I say, "I've got you and my pets. Isn't that enough?" I am not sure how they feel about being equated with the animals, but to me, it's all the same since my animals are my kids, too. No one has ever burst into tears over my response, so I guess they understand, think I am kidding or am once again proving I've lost my mind.

All this demonstrates that mothering isn't just hormonal, which our society already acknowledges. The drive and ability to mother come from other sources than the ovaries--they come from living in a mother-rich, nurturing environment.

My mother is the archetypal "mother of the world." She has spent years working with children, her own, those in the public school system and those in her religious education classes. She has worked with every level and age of child, but she has also mothered hundreds of adults. This is the woman who, in her second job as a Sam's Club greeter, hugs strangers no matter how much she loathes the way Sam's operates and treats its employees. My mother gives food to the hungry and necessities to anyone who needs them, even when she can't afford to do so--which is always. She is the consummate care-giver, and she talks about the people she meets.

When you are raised with someone like this, you might end up despising working with people or loathing people in general. But when you're me, you end up being drawn to work that requires caring for others. When my kids were young, I couldn't work much outside the home in that capacity. My kids had to come first, and that has its own kind of rewards, especially when I see how (usually) loving they themselves are now. And it's not that you ever stop caring for your kids. It's just that their needs change as they age. I fully expect I will be parenting for the rest of my life. I might even be grand-parenting at some point, but I'm not in a hurry for that in the least.

I have more time to give now, though, and I am thriving on it, loving others in a way that allows me to serve. My mother taught me the importance of serving and how dedicating a life to it makes living meaningful. She never had to come out and say that making the world a better place is important. I saw it in her actions. And while she is very Christian (Catholic, specifically) and believes in an afterlife that rewards or punishes, I know she would serve no matter what religion she was or was not because she grew up watching her father struggle to take care of five kids on his own when he was extremely poor. "He always provided for us," she says proudly.

My mother tells us the story of her father moving the family "by gig," which meant using a cart to carry all their belongings to the next tenement. He didn't have a car even though car ownership was common by then. She tells us how she picked up where her absent mother left off, caring for her four brothers, two of which have died now.

My mother doesn't live in the kind of poverty she did as a child, though she still lives far below the poverty line. She works two jobs just to make it, and as she nears the ability to retire, she worries about having to live on a fixed income. And she needs to slow down and better care for herself. I wish I could help her more.

I'm kind of rambling this morning, not paying too much attention to organization, but I will leave off with some semblance of having had a thesis. I believe we come back to the Earth we have created. I believe we literally reap what we sow. I believe we can love the world enough to heal it.

Mothering is in my blood, and while I'm all set with having little ones, I'm not all set with mothering. That's a good thing, because as it stands, there are not enough mothers to keep the world functioning. That's how needy we all are.

Fiona, My Desk Kitty and Editor

2011-07-23T04:29:00.000-07:00

Parenting? Priceless.

2011-07-06T05:10:00.000-07:00

Erika's Anime Creation

2011-06-24T14:36:00.000-07:00

Poem by Alexandra when she was just about 8

2011-05-15T13:47:00.000-07:00

Swimming

I like swimming.

Swimming is fun.

We swim round in circles.

We go round and round and round.

When I go round and round,

I look like a fish

under the water,

soft and smooth

my arms move,

my legs push,

my hair waves

under the water.

When my mom calls me

we go home.

It was fun! I want

to go back again.

June 26, 2006

Poetry by Erika when she was only 11

2011-05-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

Love
Love makes you feel explodingly glad
In your mouth you taste the sweetest of honey
You smell the delicious aroma of snapdragons
See your heart’s most desire
And feel the soft skin of your lover

Fear
Fear is the worst enemy of your body
It leaves a vile taste on your tongue
Smells like the scent of death
Feels like a ghostly menace is near
The sound of fear is a deathly silence
The sight of fear is a blanket of night

Lonely
Left by the light of friends
To taste ash on your tongue
To feel the lost wind on your face
To see no living thing
And to smell the scent of the wild-like wilderness

Hope
Like the swish of a bird at night
Feels like the joy of an adventure
To see the light in a whole new way
To hear the sound of the wind carrying a miracle
To smell the aroma of peace
To taste the sweet tone of water

Hatred

Hatred makes your body feel all tight

It feels like you’re having a fight

Hatred tastes like heated metal

Steaming like a kettle

All you can hear is an ear-splitting scream in your head

And you feel as if you were dead

All that you can see is the blackness of hate

Blacker than the blackest rotten date

May 15, 2008

Erika's Valentine Poem to Us

2011-02-13T16:54:00.000-08:00

L is for lots of laughter
O is for only you
V is for valuable for all time

E is for everlasting and true

A+ in Pack-Ratting (I prefer to call it "archiving.")

2010-11-14T05:41:00.000-08:00

My only excuse here is that I am trying to immortalize my children's childhood and teachers. No one is buying it so far.

Talented Haiku by Erika

2010-10-22T10:20:00.000-07:00

My daughter tells me she is going to write a book of Haiku. Of course, I am thrilled!

Below is the start of her book. Whether or not she finishes is irrelevant. Her soul is soaring either way.

------------------------------------

Clouds

Clouds are great white steeds

Galloping across the sky

Great hooves bring down rain

Shadow

Dark and motionless

Covering the morning grass

Devouring light

Moon

Bright and beautiful

A glowing light in the night

Shinning forever

School

A place of laughter

A place of wonderful things

The student learns all

Hope

The light in the dark

The light that fills us all

The key to pure peace

Snow

Softly it falls down

White and shining in the sun

Like a great diamond

Tree

Tall and stands alone

In a clearing by the sea

Dancing in the breeze

Fire

Flickering flames dance

Dancing a never ending dance

Till the morning light

Water

Flowing gracefully

Over rock and under tree

Singing lonely songs

Earth

Rocks tumbling down

Showering like ice and hailstones

Then sudden silence

Wind

Whispering to me

Telling me its own story

Caressing my hair

Storm

Black clouds fill the sky

Lightning clashing their great swords

Thunder’s mighty roar

Ice

Cold and glistening

Gleaming and reflecting light

Till the sunrise comes

Cat

Meowing softly

Purring on the window sill

Lying in the sun

Rain

Dancing on the roof

Pitter patter pitter pat

Waltzing on the roof

Time

Never seen by man

Cannot be captured by man

Time is forever

To Be a Mom

2010-10-12T06:19:00.000-07:00

Erika and Alexandra, baby pictures

(sorry for the orientation--these are scanned images).

I don't think they will ever understand how much I love them. It's actually painful.

Curious Things About Shiba

2010-07-24T17:32:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking for awhile that I want to start a little memory log of Shiba, especially now that she is getting older (14 this year). Sure, I have some pictures from her puppy hood on up, but you know how pictures only tell part of the story. There are things I want to remember that can't be shown with pictures, especially when you have a dog that is frightened of digital cameras. I am not sure why she is--perhaps it's the high-pitched sound of the camera turning on. In any event, here are some things I want to remember, and I will add to them as I do with my kids' quotes.

--Shiba used to sit on my belly when I was pregnant with Erika in 2006-07. Shiba is six months older than Erika.

--Shiba used to try to lick Erika's diaper (a sure sign it was time for Erika to be changed).

--Shiba wore a diaper herself the first time she went into heat. I cut a hole out for her curly tail. Poor thing wouldn't even walk with it.

--When one of my best friends, Jorge, lived downstairs from us, he would knock at our door. I would yell, "Get in here!" in this hag-like voice. Shiba would always bark. Up until about last year, even when no one knocked, if I yelled "Get in here!" in that voice, she would still bark.

--Shiba used to get on her hind legs and slurp Alexandra's messy hands when Alexandra was eating in her high chair. She did the same thing to Erika. I've got photos of the girls crying a couple of times because they didn't want to share their food.

--Shiba doesn't just play. She prances, jumping sideways from two feet to two feet, left to right. One day, she pranced like that in a diagonal direction all the way across the room.

--Sometimes, Shiba sits with her paws folded in front of her. She looks like a fawn.

--Shiba likes to sit on the top of the couch and look out the front window.

--Shiba loves cheese more than anything in the world. Don't ever say "cheese."

--As noted above, Shiba hates the camera, so it's hard to get a nice photo of her with us. She shakes and shivers and runs out of the room when we turn the camera on. This has gotten worse the older she has grown.

--Shiba had terrible breath, so we took her to the vet when she was 12. She had 14 teeth removed. Even so, she tries to bite Sallie, our much younger, much bigger dog. Sallie just wags her tail.

--Shiba plays "dominatrix" with Sallie. She whips her but around, hitting Sallie on the side of her body and on the side of her face. We call this "numchuck butt." Sallie just stands there. Sallie had the same reaction when Shiba mounts her face.

--When my brother Michael used to live with us, Shiba would steal his underwear. Michael didn't like this.

--Shiba likes us to chop up her meat and biscuits into smaller pieces. If we don't, she carries the larger pieces around the house and whines. She has done this all her life, even before she had bad teeth.

--Shiba once or twice buried a hot dog under our bedroom pillow.

--For some reason, I started this thing that I say in a bad English accent: "There is a new religion spreading across South Africa, one in which we worship the Goddess Inu. Let us prostrate ourselves before her and recite the mantra: (in super high pitched voice) INU! INU!" When she was younger, Shiba used to prance when we did this.

--The "Inu bark" is a particular sound reserved for begging when we are eating on the couch in the kitchen. Shiba will stare at us as we eat, and if we ignore her, she abruptly does the "Inu bark."

--In the summer when Shiba sheds, she forms clumps on her hind legs and on her butt. These are fun collections to pull out. They come out easily, and they are easy to dispose of. However, she doesn't really like our grooming her. Neither does she enjoy being brushed.

--Shiba doesn't like baths. In fact, she just doesn't like getting wet. Usually, I shower with her. After I let her out of the shower, she prances around and then runs all over the house. She is very excited because she knows she will be rewarded for her patience, usually with cheese.

--Shiba has always been a runner. When we lived in Massachusetts, she frequently would get off a leash or find a way out of the fence and take off. She would return a few hours later. She did the same thing when we moved to Virginia. The longest time she was ever gone was over night a couple of years ago. That night, it poured rain (Shiba hates to be wet, remember) and the next day, we frantically hunted the neighborhood for her. This evil lady yelled at us to get off her farm property, and I told her we were looking for our dog. She kept yelling. (I wanted to smack her, but I was with the kids, so I behaved.) Someone in an adjoining neighborhood sent us in the right direction, and when we caught up to her, she came right to us. I picked her up, hugged her and cried, even though she smelled like horse manure, she was filthy and I was wearing a nice blouse. She never tried to run away again, even though she got a thorough bath afterward.

--Shiba's only other attempt to run out after the episode described above was when we had the massive snowstorms this past winter. She and Sallie had been cooped up for days with literally only a thin path allowing them into the backyard. We left the front door open for a minute, and Shiba casually walked out. She made her way to the end of the sidewalks and "did her business." Alexandra ran out and Shiba came right to her instead of her usual running further off. I think she really was just having some cabin fever.

--Shiba sleeps at the end of our bed by my feet. She is often the reason I get a terrible night's sleep, since I am always worried about accidentally kicking her off the bed.

--Shiba is mostly blind. We keep a light on all night long so she can see where to get on and off the bed. She usually jumps on a stool at the end of the bed, and then she jumps onto the bed. One night, she got confused and jumped onto a chair near the sewing machine. She looked around and whined, not knowing where she was. Poor baby! I had to rescue her.

--Shiba has always been terrified of storm drains. Whenever we walk her and pass by a storm drain, she pulls hard enough to choke herself in an effort to cross the street. We don't know why.

--Before going to sleep, Shiba has to groom the quilt.

--Shiba has to shake after anyone pets her. And she's like a cat. She only wants you when she wants you.

--One of Shiba's favorite places is David's parents' house. She loves their backyard. Her other favorite place to visit is David's brother's house where there is also a big yard. In each place, there are other dogs, so Shiba can feel superior as she is wont to do.

--One night in bed, my husband farted so loud that Shiba growled at him.

Erika's Poem

2010-05-09T07:47:00.000-07:00

My elder daughter Erika is showing signs of becoming a great poet! Check out this imagery.

Storm

Black clouds fill the sky,
rain lashed the trees,
thunder threatened the earth,
lightening clashed its bright blades,
the wind was like a banshee
screaming in the night.
The trees were bent over,
cowering and hiding their faces.
The storm has come.

Contrast the last post with this one!

2010-04-30T06:26:00.000-07:00

Our spring break with family in Historic Williamsburg and Maymont Japanese gardens and wildlife center in Richmond. It was about 75 degrees each day. Amazing!

The Year Disappears

2010-04-29T17:01:00.000-07:00

How on Earth is it the end of April 2010 already??

These pics were taken in February.

The months go by in a blur.

Weekend in Shenandoah

2010-03-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

Enlarge the photos by clicking on the collages.

To celebrate 9 years together (that is, 9 years since our first date), we rented "Trackside Cabin" in Shenandoah, VA.

When I made the reservations, I enjoyed the irony.

The first time David and I confessed our love for each other, we stayed at a motel in Williamsburg---with a train track right beside our room.

We were woken at least three times by the blaring whistle and vibration that shook our room windows.

It was one of those extreme annoyances that you have to laugh at, and certainly, it's not something we have forgotten. So having a train track beside our getaway this weekend made us nostalgic and silly.

The cabin train actually only came by once per night, but it was enough to make us giggle.

The cabin itself is absolutely gorgeous with a breathtaking view of the mountains. The owners have gone out of their way to decorate the place in country and primitive decor, emanating a natural beauty and coziness that hotels can't provide.

The owners left us a bottle of wine with chocolates and a little welcome sign with our names on it.

The place smelled like cinnamon.

Spring had finally decided it was time to meander in, so on Saturday, we walked along the river in Luray. The air was warm--about 70 degrees--and the water clear from the too-ample rain we had earlier in the month. People brought their dogs and babies out, children rode their bikes, and I believe some anglers even were fortunate enough to catch trout.

David and I decided that when we retire, we want to live in a peaceful, simple place like this.

Too bad we have to wait until we retire, of course.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-14T16:55:00.000-08:00

Alexandra set the table using our best silverware and antique wine glasses. She put out the candle we lit at our wedding and my wedding bouquet, as well as a plaque with a love poem on it.

We all celebrated with a delicious Valentine roast, sweet potatoes and broccoli. For dessert: dark chocolate.

We went around the dinner table and had to name one thing we love about each member of our family. Everyone had more than one thing to love, and everyone just had to include the pets.

We ate way too much chocolate.

Happy Valentine's Day, folks!

30 inches of snow!

2010-02-06T17:03:00.001-08:00

Here are all the trees behind our townhouse. You can't see the detail, but they have cracked and are actually leaning over people's fences and into the yards.

Alexandra is upset because the "fort" she made in the "woods" is now destroyed. Poor baby!

Our back porch.

We tried to shovel the porch, but there was nowhere to put all the snow.

Opened the front door, and this is what I met. Mind you, we don't have a screen or storm door.

Christmas Eve

2009-12-26T07:12:00.000-08:00

We spent our Christmas Eve with family as Alexandra took photos of the Christmas decor.

Later that day, I carried on my father's tradition of visiting the
beach in winter. We also enjoyed the splendor of my inlaws' backyard feeding ground.

Winter and Christmas Scenes

2009-12-26T06:59:00.000-08:00

The Big Storm and then, Christmas.

Above is the top of Grandma and Grandpa's wedding cake. They have been married 50 years.

Here they are in early love.

They have a separate, small tree with wedding memorabilia and a romantic theme. The tree sits in front of a bay window facing the water.

More of Alex's Art

2009-12-21T11:07:00.000-08:00

Alex's Owl and Super Bunny

A REAL Winter in NOVA

2009-12-19T15:34:00.001-08:00

Not our Inu, but still....

2009-11-29T14:12:00.000-08:00

How cute is this???

2009-11-29T08:48:00.001-08:00

It is a gorgeous day out, which means today is definitely the day to put up Christmas lights before it starts to freeze.

I've finished Volume I of my 2009 scrapbook and will soon begin Volume II. Here's a sample of what's coming up.

We love our pets!

Time for orthodontic work?

2009-11-28T05:14:00.001-08:00

2009-11-22T17:05:00.000-08:00

My daughter, Alexandra, the budding photographer, loves to take photos of herself. She also tends to take interesting photos of items we have in the home.

And of course, as you will see by her picture of her sister's feet, she enjoys taking....well, I will let you be the judge.

She actually has interesting perspective. We're trying to encourage her photo taking.

Alex has learned how to crop photos and adjust the brightness. We will work on color and placement next.

I am quite sure she will be a better photographer than I am.

More Fun Photos

2009-11-13T11:30:00.000-08:00

In order:

Smithsonian
Bull Run Regional Park
Bull Run Regional Park
Cosmo and Sallie: Buds

October Camping at Bull Run

2009-10-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

There is absolutely nothing more invigorating than camping and hiking in the fall. It's cool and crisp, especially in the bath house.

I highly recommend cabin camping for the spoiled rotten--which we are. Heating and air conditioning make us wimps, but that doesn't detract from the splendor of autumn and the joy of family.

Ironically, the first thing the girls did was their homework! I guess the cabin bedroom somehow motivated them. Maybe we should go there more often, eh?

Check out the old man tree and the caterpillar!

Not all the members of our party appreciated have pictures taken. The exception was my cute nephew. He loves the camera, and it loves him. I might suggest to his mom that she put him in modeling.

Guess who read the blogs?

2009-09-09T17:53:00.000-07:00

Wow. I have neglected this blog. I suddenly remembered it because lo and behold, I found Erika reading my blogs. She was laughing at the "quotes from the kids" section and said she wanted to add some quotes to it.

When I asked her how she found my blog, she said she went there from my website home page which happens to be the home page on her computer. I am going to have to tell her which parts are appropriate to read.

Initially, I told her not to read anything else besides the kids quotes because other parts of the blog have adult content. For sure, now, she will read it more. I know I would if my mother told me something like that. In fact, I would be looking for every bad word on that blog. But I never would have had the opportunity. My mother didn't have the Internet and never used bad language.

I'm not too bad, in general, and I hardly ever cuss in front of the kids. When I do, the most they hear from me is "crap" or very rarely, "shit." I've learned to edit myself. I want the kids to grow up with a better vocabulary than that. And I certainly don't want them blurting stuff like that out any old place!

It's hard to explain to kids that putting nasty things into fiction, poetry and even some blog postings isn't the same as saying nasty things or writing nasty things to people. There's a fine line that even adults trip over a lot. I am sure as the kids get older and study literature, they will understand this concept more, however. They already understand that when they hear bad language in movies, they shouldn't emulate it, and they don't. But it would be different reading something that Ma wrote, something that has bad language. At least, I guess it would be different. Like I said, my mother never would have given me the opportunity to read such things, even if she HAD the Internet.

So, I added a couple of things to the "quotes" section and will add more later. The quotes are a safe bet. And in general, this blog is appropriate for the kids. I would rate this blog "G." The other one? I don't know. Probably PG16. But maybe I'm a prude.

Anyway, above is a lovely pic of the new splash park, Atlantis, at Bull Run Regional. We went there a few times this summer. We also camped in a cabin for Alexandra's birthday. We'll be going back to a cabin with my sis-in-law and her son in a few weeks. Bull Run is a great park!

Fluttering by

2009-06-14T04:20:00.000-07:00

Found these pics while perusing my old photo files. Couldn't remember if I had posted or scrap-booked them or not.

Perhaps in time for Memorial Day

2009-05-24T17:09:00.000-07:00

On a
recent
trip to
Manassas
Battlefield...

Who is the real blogging you?

2009-04-20T05:53:00.000-07:00

So continues the discussion of who the blogger is. If you really care to read my previous thoughts on this subject, go to the right of this page, scroll down and click on the label that says "blogging." Most likely, you will have to search the 2006-2008 archives, which I have no ambition to do, so I assume neither will anyone else.

I maintain that a blog shows only a portion of a person and often, not even the real person. Bloggers are often just writers expressing thoughts, moods, philosophy and anything else that interests them at the time. But the blogger is not the person--s/he is the blogger.

What's interesting is that bloggers who post under a different name are rarely confused with the actual person behind the postings. It's only we bloggers who use our own names that become associated with our blogs and not our true, full personhood.

As a writer, I find this discouraging. It's like the reader who always confuses the narrator with the story or poem author. While there is truth in fiction, poetry and blogging, there is only part of the complex thing we call personality, as someone put it, a "caricature."

Especially as bloggers, it's what we do outside of our blogs that is important.

Blogs are exercises in free speech and expression. They have turned the Internet into a wide world of the written word and by themselves, do not have the ability to expose any full truth about an issue, the author or the commentators. Even the most vile blogs do not reveal an absolute truth about anyone.

When bloggers come out of the blogosphere and even out of the worlds of email and creative writing, their truer personality and beliefs emerge. How do bloggers act in the real world? What do they publicly and privately endorse? How do they treat one another? What do they do with their free time? What do they stand for and why? These are the questions readers should always ask themselves.

To confuse the blogger with the real person is a logical fallacy. For example, when bloggers rant and rave, rage against the machine, fictionalize their lives and the lives of others, readers are getting no better picture of the author than if the author were writing creative nonfiction, fiction, drama or poetry.

The real question is, how would the author address an issue or a person in real life? How would the blogger approach situations discussed in blogs? What tone of voice would they use? What language would they use? Do they use different language when they are angry compared to when they are calm? Do they communicate their ideas differently? Are they as emotional or hasty or mean spirited or spiritual or loving or anything else that they are on their blogs? There is not way of telling without knowing the blogger him/herself.

We all have various manifestations of our personalities. Bloggers are no different. Professional writers and/or creative writers have even a bigger burden because they translate reality into their personal artistic expressions. Most blog readers and many readers in general do not see the person behind the writing.

So who are we, we bloggers?

If you really want to know, get to know one personally or at least examine his/her public life.

Otherwise, you probably are making invalid assumptions.

Bull Run Bluebells

2009-04-19T20:58:00.000-07:00

Virginia Bluebells are Prince William County's official flower.

The plants only bloom for two or three weeks in April.

They freely offer more spiritual beauty in less than a month than some people do in a lifetime.

Pics of the in-laws' front yard

2009-03-22T14:03:00.000-07:00

My in-laws know how to create peace and beauty.

Click on the photo to get an enlarged, detailed view.

Animal Farm!

2009-03-11T16:46:00.000-07:00

Taken at a local farm...

Attic Treasures

2009-02-19T18:33:00.000-08:00

I was doing a story on a manor that is now used for events. Here are a couple of things I saw up there.

There really is nothing better than an old attic!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-20T14:36:00.001-08:00

She's Home!

2008-12-04T09:00:00.001-08:00

Well, Sallie baby came home yesterday. She slept a lot but did eat and drink, which were good signs.

Shiba was missing her, wandering around the house looking for her, sniffing her bed, never really settling down until I brought Sallie back. Shiba knows Sallie is still recouping. Dogs are smart.

This morning, Sallie is back to her loving self, but we are trying to keep her calm so her stitches can heal.

She's a love. Walk up to her, and the tail starts wagging. What more could we ask for?

Okay, well, we could ask for her to be house trained (which she is), not to bark too much (which she doesn't), to be patient and loving with the kids and the other pets (which she is) and not to barf (which she has done only once and that was in the car).

So I ask again, what more could we ask for?

This is an unpaid advertisement for adopting a shelter dog!

(p.s. Sallie's eyes aren't really orange like they appear in the pic. For some reason, the "red eye" tool won't remove that. I just ordered a program that should be able to take care of "pet eye" so you can see how lovely and black Sallie's eyes really are!)

Poor Sallie, You Know Not What Your Are In For....

2008-12-02T03:55:00.000-08:00

My poor baby (Sallie, not Erika) is going in to be spayed today. She doesn't know it (Sallie, that is, because Erika DOES know).

Right now, Sallie is pouncing around with the cat who, wonder of wonders, seems to be having a good time. Sallie is playing with him like he's a dog, and he's such a good boy, he is returning the favor letting her chase him and then coming back for more!

Of course, Cosmo is high on catnip, so all this might be attributed to intoxication on his part.

More Sallie Pics

2008-11-22T17:23:00.000-08:00

Baby is eating hard food now, barked her first bark, and napped on the couch. Sniff....she's growing up so fast....

More Sallie Pics

2008-11-16T06:55:00.000-08:00

Sallie after her first bath....Inu!!!!!....Sallie Baby, Inu!!!!! We love you!

Sallie, Our New Baby

2008-11-15T18:10:00.000-08:00

Sallie is a 22 month old, sweet Sheltie mix we got from the PWC Animal Shelter today.

The girls and I had seen the poor baby this past Thursday. She was huddled in a corner, shaking, all alone in a cage. I thought she had been abused and didn't think we could take her home. After all, we wanted a companion for our aging Shiba Inu, and we also have Fiona and Cosmo, the kitties.

We all went back today, and there was Sallie, timidly sticking her nose out to sniff. When the attendant brought her outside for us to pet, she came right up to us. Her tail, which I'd only seen between her legs before, actually started to wag.

We learned she had recently had puppies and that the owners had brought the puppies. All the puppies were adopted, and then they brought in Sallie this past Thursday. Poor baby had just lost her own babies and then was sitting in that horrible place! No wonder she had been shaking so much!

How happy she got when we left that building, walked her around the lot and let her poop and pee wherever she wanted. In the car, she was content to sit on the floor in the back seat with the girls.

After getting out of there and feeling like we had saved Sallie, both David and I were pretty emotional.

I was so worried Shiba would be jealous and wouldn't adjust right away. Needless worry. Shiba acted just like she does when our in-laws' dogs come to visit, only getting cranky when Sallie tried to put her face in Shiba's. Shiba gave that "back off!" growl and Sallie just moved on. She didn't chase the cats. She came when she was called. And for the past three hours she has been asleep near her new cedar dog bed. The poor thing is exhausted! I bet she didn't sleep a wink in that shelter.

David once said to me if he ever got rich, he would open his own no-kill shelter. I really hope we do get rich some day. The thought of all those poor animals who will never have homes or a life.......

Thank God we got Sallie, the newest member of our loving family!

Raibow Over Bristow

2008-11-15T18:08:00.000-08:00

Pics from the Battlefield

2008-11-10T19:03:00.000-08:00

Battlefield Pics

Click on the pic to see all the photos. This was a lot faster than trying to upload everything to Blogger!

The Sun Also Rises...In Bristow VA

2008-10-19T05:10:00.000-07:00

Skyline Drive: Part II

2008-10-15T18:05:00.001-07:00

Skyline Drive Pics Part I

2008-10-15T17:32:00.001-07:00

It was
only two
days
away,
but
that was
enough
to re-charge.

Skyline Caverns: A Gorgeous (and phallic?) Experience

2008-10-15T07:19:00.001-07:00

We had a fabulous guide named Joseph who made the one hour tour completely family-friendly. He's obviously a better person than I am. Still....God obviously has a sense of humor, don't you think?

More Great Pics by the Kids (some cropped)

2008-10-15T05:10:00.001-07:00

Pics from the Battlefield, Manassas

2008-10-10T13:12:00.001-07:00

Great
pics
the kids
took!

The kids had their own cameras and took their own pics. It was fun having a family photo shoot. Doing it again this weekend in Front Royal. I love fall!

Here are our pics:

Secret Agents

2008-09-16T04:49:00.001-07:00

How fun is THIS???

How We Managed to Annoy the Cat

2008-09-07T19:41:00.001-07:00

But Fiona held her ground.

Beautiful Occoquan

2008-09-07T19:25:00.000-07:00

Though I've been told the people are snotty there, you've gotta love the looks of the place!

Family Visit: Half Moon Beach

2008-08-15T16:18:00.000-07:00

Less than an hour away, Half Moon Beach has become one of our favorite places to spend a hot summer's day. It's a quarry that is always cool and typically teal. Our house-guests loved it! And I'm glad we got there early, because by 1:00 or so, three bus-loads of day camp kids had staked claim to wide portions of the soft, white sand.

Here's a fun, funky weed with even funkier flash effects.

Playing around with color removal...this is a tad dark.

Views from the sand.....

No pics of the family per request of the family....."They who must not be blogged."

Family Visit: Manassas Museum Pics

2008-08-14T14:09:00.001-07:00

Scenes from our visit to Manassas Museum....

After Briefly Attending a BOCS Meeting

2008-07-28T08:20:00.000-07:00

We were only there for twenty minutes or so, but from the testimony and the compassion they hold for others, the girls have formed their own conclusions about the immigration debate here in PWC. As part of their home-summer-school experience, they reported back their thoughts on the meeting (though like many adults, they admit being confused by the process).

Kids don't naturally hate, discriminate, or care about borders. They inherently want peace, security and love in their lives. It is up to us to provide those things for them.
__________________________

"I think that all people can have rights . So all people have to be nice to them . If you do not be nice they might lose hope because there is a war going on . So let them stay in the United States."

by Alexandra, age 10

__________________________

"I just have two things to say. Why are you doing this and what drives you to do this abomination? Why treat immigrants so poorly? I know that some came here illegally but that does not mean to treat them like dog dung! You sir have to learn like we all learned in preschool--always be kind to one another!"

by Erika, age 11

Summer School Writing

2008-07-18T07:32:00.000-07:00

We are on day 12 of home-summer-school. Once again, I have a new appreciation for teachers and their ability to keep students on task, especially first thing in the morning when everyone is less than awake. Still, we are making progress, focusing on language arts. We do daily reading and comprehension activities. The girls have written quite a few pieces, some more successful than others. I have had them hand-write and type their work, giving them opportunity to work on handwriting and keyboarding.

Both girls loathe editing, my younger daughter in particular. We all struggle with spelling, but her struggles are more particular and fiercer because of her learning disability. This morning, she typed:

"I do not like spelling because it's hard to me. I cannot hear the letters. I cry when I spell. But, I try and try again. So, kids, keep on trying."

While I have not actually seen her cry at home, I do get daily doses of her frustration. We use tools like the spelling dictionary and spell-check to help. We have spelling bees and play Scrabble. And of course, we read. I am seeing progress in her reading which makes us both proud.

My older daughter has really thrown herself into reading which thrills me! Her comprehension is not always what it should be (probably because she guesses at the meaning of some words), but she has delved head first into the Little House series I have been hoping she would read.

On Monday, we watched the Civil War production at Manassas Battlefield Park. I intended to have them write about the movie as soon as it finished; however, the film proved to be more emotionally challenging than we anticipated. I prefaced the movie by having them review an interactive CD at home. The movie was nothing like the CD. The full color, re-living of Bull Run, not just black and white photos with narration or graves in the fields themselves, depicted war in ways I have shielded from the girls and limited for myself. I wish the park had posted a "sensitive viewer" warning on the film so we at least could have prepared.

I did have the girls write about the experience the following day when we were less emotional. My older daughter wrote:

"What I learned from the video on the 14th of July is that the volunteers to fight in the civil war were very young and they thought that the war would only last for a day. But they were proven wrong, many of the volunteers never returned home. The southern army, or the confederates, was under the command of Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson. The northern army, or the union, was under the command of U.S. Grant. The battle of Manassas was the most bloodiest battle of the civil war.

"The stone house that is in the battle grounds was used as a hospital. When the injured soldiers were in the stone house hospital the men would carve there names on the wood floor. Many men died do to infected wounds. But most of the men both north and south were captives to the opposite side that they were on. It is tragic that so many honest men had to die and never return home to there families again."

Let's just say that this summer has been a learning experience for all of us.

Vacation Pics! Part II

2008-06-19T05:27:00.001-07:00

Our beautiful Inu in heaven with the big back yard to use ALL WEEK LONG....

April after being groomed....

GiGi After her grooming...

At Westmorland Berry Farm...these guys are always hungry!

Grandma and Grandpa's front porch...their flowers are always in bloom.

Out fishing in the boat....fun even if they didn't catch anything.

Alex's pic of "our" bedroom...

Grandma and Grandpa's glorious sitting room by the water...

Grandma's amazing paintings!

Vacation Pics! Part 1

2008-06-17T06:36:00.000-07:00

Celebrating Mothers' and Fathers' Day...just a little late for Mother's Day.

Swimming off the dock...

Water Plants?

No fish caught yet....sorry Hubby!

Love the Inu! LOVE HER!

Grandma and Grandpa's Sleepy Poodle, April...

More to come...it's only Tuesday!

Wasn't Tagged, But Still.....

2008-06-14T04:59:00.000-07:00

These are always so much FUN!

Courtesy of posting from Kate:

1. What were you doing five years ago? (That would be 2003, yes?)

Trying to get settled in our new house (that was a story in and of itself).

Trying to lose weight (did lose a lot, but it's back).

Trying to get the kids settled into a new school.

Hiking the Manassas Battlefields.

Teaching online. (Wow! What a busy year, as usual!)

2.What are five things on your to-do list for today?

Finish packing for vacation.

Finish cleaning before vacation.

Shut down this computer.

Drive to the in-laws' for vacation.

Attend nephew's graduation from high school. (Has it really been THAT long since he was just a kid???? WOW. Time flies!)

3. What are five snacks you enjoy?

Oatmeal (with Splenda and spray butter).

Cooked vegetables (with spray butter).

Popcorn (with spray butter).

Sugar free fudgicles (no spray butter).

Melted cheese on crackers (no spray butter.)

4. What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?

Give a ton of money away to causes of my choice.

Invest so I can keep giving it away.

Pay off this house, my mother's mortgage and my in-laws' mortgage. (Does that count as three? Who cares.)

Get cleaners on a regular basis.

Travel (with the best motion sickness med on the market).

5. What are five of your bad habits?

Eating.

Saying not-so-nice expressions that I grew up with and find myself repeating even now.

Worrying and having to talk myself out of worrying.

Forgetting to tone down my voice when the kids have given me back-talk for the fourth time in a row.

Aren't those enough?

6. What are five places you have lived?

Manassas VA

Vienna VA

Colorado Springs CO

Lowell, MA

Billerica MA

7. What are five jobs you've had?

Sandwich-making-food-services-customer-complaint-person

Educational middle management

Online and live college instructor

Avon/Mary Kay lady

House wife

8. Why do you love these me-mes? (I added this one.)

They make you think of where you have been and where you are now.

They are rather egocentric and self-indulgent.

They are relaxing.

They let the world know who you are and where you are coming from (assuming anyone reads them).

They warn off people who might be scared of who you are and where you are coming from.

Another Trip to Lake Brittle

2008-06-04T17:43:00.000-07:00

I can't help it. The place is so pretty, I have to take pictures. The girls didn't catch craw daddies this time, but they did catch some bugs and found some snails.

We brought one of the snails home and put it in the fish tank. This seemed to make our catfish happy. But then the snail died. I'm not sure if the catfish have realized yet that their snail friend is gone.

RIP, little snail. Here are some pics in your honor.

More Musings

2008-06-04T17:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, so every time I come visit this part of my blog life, I look at the title and say, "Hmmmm. Bull Run Writings. There isn't much writing here. Photos, yes. Kids art, yes. Writing, not really." Most of my writing is on the Poetry and Polemics blog. Both blogs are part of my fun little network called "Luxurious Choices."

Someone asked me what that name meant. If you've ever been to the Luxurious Choices home page and clicked on "about us" then you know the name came from my previous attempt to sell things like Mary Kay and Avon...you know, luxuries. But it's really difficult to get businesses like that going, especially if you don't do it full time, aren't into sales, and forget to collect money. Besides that, I always wanted to give my friends my discounts because I felt bad not passing my savings on to them. So this obviously was not the business for me to be in.

I "chose" to get out of that biz and work more on my writing, which is a "luxury" all its own. But as I wrote and got out more into the community, it became more apparent that we have choices all around us and that the worst choice is to close our eyes to these. Democracy--that's a choice. Values--those are choices. How we want to spend our time--choices. What we want our lives to mean--choices. What legacies we want to leave--choices. But what if we ignore all these choices? What happens then?

Feeling trapped is one of the most debilitating conditions we can ever have put on us or impose on ourselves. When we feel trapped, we make poor decisions or no decisions. When we believe we are out of choices, we panic and do things we might never do, and they are usually not productive things if they are based solely in panic.

So having choices and recognizing them really is a luxury. Hence the name. http://www.luxuriouschoices.net/

Here's to the luxuries of life! May we appreciate and contemplate every choice we have.

"The strongest principal of growth lies in human choice."

-George Eliot

Mother's Day at Harper's Ferry WV

2008-06-04T15:59:00.001-07:00

What I really wanted was a weekend away with the family. Harper's Ferry, historic town known for John Brown's anti-slavery uprising, sits among the hilltops looking over and at the Shenandoah river. The views and legacy make for an amazing time away from the present and the suburbs.
I wish we had been able to take pictures in the Wax Museum where realistic figures portray the events of Brown's times. It's a little eery, but the kids are old enough to understand it now, having studied the Civil War in school.

Now I know Dive will say how he has buildings like these all over his town, and then I will say I am jealous because Harper's Ferry is a bit of a drive for us. But it was worth the drive.

More of Erika's Artwork

2008-05-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

My favorite is the teapot painting. It was done on a kind of parchment paper and feels heavy.

Obsessive Cat Uploads

2008-03-18T18:59:00.000-07:00

EEEE-VIL!

Sexy.

Lazy.
Snuggly.
Playful.
Cat-nipping.
Still sexy.

Stop me before I upload cat pics again!

Cats....We're Kitty Cats...and We Meow Meow Meow!

2008-03-18T16:57:00.000-07:00

Starring Cosmo Kitty and Fiona-Cat-Cow

Sometimes we're irritated.

Sometimes we're cute.

Sometimes we're smug.

Sometimes we're creepy.

Sometimes we pose.

Sometimes we're addicts.

Did I mention sometimes we're creepy?

Cats! We're Kitty Cats! And we MEOW MEOW MEOW

and we MEOW MEOW MEOW!

Found Under Daughter's Bed

2008-03-18T13:36:00.000-07:00

Among other things....

1. One carved up piece of big, pink chalk, a large stone, and a dirty white sock tucked into a heart-shaped jewelry box.

"WHAT is THIS?" exclaim I, immediately calling the all-wise mother-in-law.

"Well obviously, she was using the rock as a chalkboard."

But of course! How could I be so entirely stupid??

Thank God for my MIL!

2. One note to parents:

"Please do not disturb Erika in her tent unless
1. It's an emergency.
2. You need to wake me up.
3. You need to check on me."

So in other words, I can disturb you whenever I like?

I just love this child!

Weekend at Littlepage Inn

2008-03-17T15:02:00.001-07:00

March 15, 2008 marked the anniversary of David and me together for seven years. We have been married for five years, but the 15th is special because that's when we had our official first date. On March 15, 2001, we went to a restaurant called Phillips in Tyson's Corner. I ordered the prawns, David had seafood Alfredo, and we talked about the Holocaust. Later, we went back to his place where we were good kids and didn't misbehave as much as much as you might want to think.

But now, seven years later on the 15th, we wanted a romantic getaway. We got one!

If you ever take a trip to Virginia, be sure to visit a little town called Mineral where the most amazing inn, Littlepage, will bring you back to the Federalist era. The plantation, called Prospect Hill, sits between little farm towns and Lake Anna. The main house, built in 1811, is almost all original. We were fortunate to have arrived early in the season when the main house was empty. So we got the grand tour, including all the bedrooms and bathrooms the place offers.

Below is the main hallway as we entered the house. The other photo shows the landing near one of the bedrooms.

The Inn has several lovely, original sitting rooms with furniture and artwork dating back to the early 1800's. The fireplaces and most of the woodwork are intact.

The owner explained how his family came to manage this place and how he grew up in this house. David and I couldn't even imagine growing up in a house like this, but we had fun trying! I wondered how a childhood in a home like this would affect one's future (outside of becoming an inn-owner, of course). We pictured the girls running up the long stairs, bouncing from room to room, the house creaking under their feet.

One of the sitting rooms has photo books showing the various renovations. I was completely taken in by the contract to build the place, written up by the Holladays, the original owners. But even more amazing were the letters, one in particular from Mrs. Holladay to Mr. Holladay while he was traveling to New York. In the letter, she laments his absence and reminds him she is slightly jealous of his visiting exciting places.

The other piece that caught my attention was a poem Mr. Holladay wrote about missing his home on Prospect Hill. The handwriting and diction were very much still 18th century feeling, so I stumbled through my reading of both.

This incredible piano is original. Below is one of the bedrooms and gorgeous furniture in one of the sitting rooms. The trinkets and many of the books on the shelves date back to the 18-1900's.

The inn is surrounded by pasture and gardens. There are also "out buildings" including a full cottage. Below is one of the outbuildings.

Beside the pool, we discovered the family cemetery. Among the other family members, three infants are buried there. Most of the Holladays, though, seemed destined for longer lives, living well into their sixties, seventies, and eighties.

Below is the East Barn, where we stayed. The barn has been renovated into three suites. Ours was called the "Lady's Suite." The bedroom is upstairs, the sitting area with fireplace downstairs. This was a great setup because it afforded much more privacy than the usual bed and breakfast arrangement.

Between the suites, guests share a kitchen where the owners supply breakfast food for cooking. We liked this because there was no need to be at the main house at a specified time. It also meant we could bring in our own food to store and cook.

Our bedroom...very cute and "period." The beams and framework of the barn are original.

Behind the outbuildings are the most wonderful pastures and...COWS! Now, I love cows. I actually asked the owner if I could pet them. He looked at me in that way some people do that I have gotten used to. The calves were still young, and the moms didn't like people getting near the calves. I told him I understood. I still wanted to pet the cows, though. I didn't. If angry moms didn't make sure of that, the bull DID!

They were talkative things, mooing to one another all night long. Their moos echoed across the pastures. Saturday morning, we walked out there, and they stared at us, then started to complain to one another. I don't think they liked the camera pointed at them.

This is a stable in the pasture behind the East Barn.
We visited the pump-house packed inside with antique tools and bowls made from dried squash skins. A steep wooden ladder leads to the next floor. In spite of my knee problems, I HAD to go check it out. Hubby indulged me with a picture from the window I opened above.
Among other attractions in the garden are ivy clad arbors. The Inn is a popular place for weddings; the arbors, no doubt, make for lovely photos!

The dinner bell near the pasture and the early blooming gardens.....

Sometimes, you don't know how much stress you have been under until you go away on a little trip like this one. The plethora of birds---bluebirds, cardinals, hawks, blue jays, woodpeckers, mockingbirds---the ancient trees, and the calm pastures soothed me in ways I forgot I could be. And of course, the company and celebration of being together made this a memorable weekend!

Remembering September 21, 2002

2008-03-01T16:37:00.000-08:00

Pulling out the wedding pictures, remembering that beautiful day at Placid Bay, Colonial Beach, the day hubby and I sewed our lives together...the perfect sky, the warm sun, the homemade cake, music, and food, the dresses my mother-in-law made me and the girls, my family visiting for the event, how little my girls, nieces, and nephew were, how Hubby's entire family contributed to making, baking, arranging.....how fortunate we are....

Left: Hubby, I and the girls with our new family.
Middle: Mommy, my Maid of Honor, and I.
Right: Hubby dressing for the water in goggles. (NO he didn't wear them during the ceremony!)

Hubby isn't too happy I am posting the pic of me dressing him in my veil. But it's payback for him wearing the goggles.

We were married by the water, less than a quarter mile from my in-laws' house. Married almost 50 years, they are role models and family anyone would be envious of.

Hubby and I had our first date March 15, 2001. Seven years together, five and half of them married. Time wears wings.

Here's to our family and decades of love!

My Older Daugher's Poem

2008-02-23T05:16:00.000-08:00

Today the clouds look pregnant

as if they had a heavy load

soon they dropped their fat hail

much more than they could hold

down

down

dropping their balls of ice

covering everything in sight

making trees hard to see

Today the clouds look pregnant

as if they had a heavy load.

by Erika E. Mooney
Draft 2
2/22/08
________________________________________

Understand my older daughter (turning 11 this week) hates writing. She physically hates writing (because she says no matter how hard she tries, it's always messy) and she intellectually hates writing (because she has so much difficulty spelling).

In the back seat of the van, she looked up at the gray clouds yesterday and said, "The clouds look pregnant today." I almost whirled around in shock, but since I was driving, thought better of it.

"Erika!" I exclaimed. "What did you say?"

"Never mind," she said. I don't know if she thought she was in trouble or not.

"No really, tell me. Please?"

"I said the clouds looked pregnant."

"Oh my gosh, Erika, that's an amazing simile for a poem!"

"Well actually, I heard it from my Eragon CD." She is fond of listening to stories on CD before bedtime.

"Find some paper back there! Write a poem about it!" (Geek mom was all excited.)

So she did. She did it willingly. She was really into it.

Her first draft was wordier than this final piece (without a doubt, my child). It had parts that were too prosaic. She repeated "heavy load" too many times. I wanted her to use her own words.

Parking and walking in for our appointment I told her, "Now it's time to edit the poem. We can do that on the way home."

Big sigh. "I HATE editing!"

"Why?"

"The worst part of editing? You have to go through and fix all your spelling and..."

"No," I told her. "It's creative writing. It's not that kind of editing. First, we go through and get rid of all the unnecessary words. Then we go through and make sure each word is the right one to say what you want to say. You use similes and metaphors like you did." She was picking up little rocks she had spotted en route to the front door. She loves rocks. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," she said. "You said we are going to go through and fix the words."

Kids are listening even when you think they aren't.

Once back in the van, I told her to pick it back up. She kind of sighed, but she did it. "This is going to be easy," I said. "Let's go line by line."

She read each line to me. I pointed out where she had repeated words, and I asked her to write another descriptive word in its place. It was painful recall for her, but she did it. "Wonderful!" I told her, each time she picked new words.

I explained what it means to not need a word and why. We axed the words she decided she didn't need. There were parts she refused to ax (she has artistic integrity, after all), but she crossed out a lot.

"Erika, that is so awesome! I'm going to put it on my blog!"

She beamed. Nothing like an audience as a reward for hard writing work.

By the time I reached the poem this morning, I could see her struggles with spelling and her downward slope of writing. The paper had no lines, and she had problems with her pen. If I could scan the original, I would. (Stupid scanner isn't working.) I removed only one word that didn't make sense (an extraneous "but). You have to understand what went into this poem.

The writing process, in action, in the imagination of my girl who is usually more literal--how awesome to see live and up close!

She's definitely getting older, my dear child steeped in Eragon.

Sights and Smells from the Holidays

2008-02-16T14:33:00.000-08:00

Christmas Colors in Colonial Beach

Alexandra took these shots on Thanksgiving Day.

Grandma's Awesome Cranberry Combo

Anna's Famous Spiced Cider

A Turkey Cooked by Us!

Vanessa's Greenbean Casserole with Rolls

Anna's Fancy Deviled Eggs

The really funny part is I gave Alexandra the camera and asked her and Erika to take pictures. When I downlowded their files, I had pictures of food and more pictures of the cat. So we are a little short on "people" pictures this year.

NEVER be vague with children.

October's Splendor

2008-01-28T06:32:00.001-08:00

In February, when the trees do not hold so much color, I like to go back and look at photos I took in the months before. It reminds me how the seasons change, how the cycle of life moves from one manifestation to another, and how there is so much we forget even in that brief time between one season and the next.

I took the courtyard picture from a room at church. I was waiting for my children to finish choir practice and I thought how beautiful the patios and porches are in Old Town Manassas. I opened the window and stuck my camera outside. Just another weirdo with a camera...that's me!

These photos were taken at Colonial Beach. The flower pot is actually in my in-laws' yard. They have the most gorgeous flowers blooming in various seasons.

Fabulous Photos by Alex

2008-01-13T17:37:00.001-08:00

Alex is only nine. She just might have a future in photography!

Thoughts on Art: Alexandra's Santa and Erika's Horse

2007-12-26T04:07:00.001-08:00

I feel like I cheated somehow. I used this new program my husband gave me on my birthday, which I finally installed on Christmas, three months after receiving the software.

The lovely edges and frame were not part of the original work. Of course, the girls could have mounted their coloring on black paper and just ripped the edges or used a gold frame. So maybe I'm over-reacting here in wanting to get this biographically correct, a raw representation of their product right now at age nine and ten.

That's a kind of obsession of mine...wanting to be biographically accurate. The obsession doesn't apply to my own art, poetry or fiction because those genres are not really "all me" or my life. I edit and edit and edit. Sure, there are auto-biographical parts, and you can deconstruct in whatever way you wish. But as we know from studying authors' lives, that's usually a waste of time. Poetry and fiction take on lives of their own.

Art does, too, but I want my children's art to be unedited. They work in first drafts. I want to remember that free-flow of ideas, the way they throw things down and are not afraid to call it art just because the details are missing. Sometimes, it's not their best work because they are tired or are under time constraints. I save only a few of those. But when they really try and have the right energy, that's when we get the best of their youthful minds.

The most interesting children's art says something about their thought process, and even in their first writing, I see extended metaphors and pertinent emotion. The characters in their stories mimic what is in their minds, as do the pictures they draw, paint and color. Not all the pictures they have drawn have been so pleasantly filled with kind men bearing gifts or horses running free in the wind. We learn a lot about children through their art, and it's not always what we want to learn.

I've always believed that expression is the best way to make sure children (and adults, for that matter) rid themselves of demons, celebrate the joy in their souls, explore imaginations, and share themselves with the world. I'm glad they have art and music programs and would like them to have even more. I give them art whenever I can....through projects and visits to museums as time allows. I am hoping time will allow this week, during the break. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day. Today, they want to spend time with their Christmas gifts. I can't blame them.

Art, creative writing and music provide so many skills that ordinary academic classes cannot: they develop coordination, senses of color and sound, vocabulary, math and spacial skills; understanding of both smaller parts and wholeness and how these all fit together. Dedicated art and music teachers are extraordinary people. The girls have had some excellent ones. Too bad these speciality teachers don't get paid enough. And it's even worse how often they are undermined, somehow deemed less equal partners in children's education. This is the plague of "specialty" teachers (and most educators) in general. 'It takes a CREATIVE village.'

I really didn't mean to get so philosophical here. Doing so is the antithesis of the child's mind which is a more concrete reflection of ideas and understanding. So I will shut up now and let their art speak for itself.

Here's me....."shutting up." LOL.

Oh Christmas Vine, Oh Chrismas Vine, How Lovely Are Your Branches

2007-12-24T05:27:00.000-08:00

The rule is, there will be no opening of gifts until after we--that is, my husband and I--have had our coffee. Because it's still Christmas Eve morning, we can get away with such formalities. It also gives me time to get the cats and fish fed, the dog put out, the teeth brushed and...you get the picture.

The girls decided this year that they didn't want to put up the six foot, $205.00 Christmas tree. They chose, instead, a thin little tree of five feet, one we have named "The Christmas Vine." We actually DO sing "Oh Christmas Tree" to it, except we replace the word "tree" with "vine."

When I bought the Christmas Vine from Family Dollar for something like $17.50, the girls and I were living in an apartment. I was separated from my first husband. The girls were practically babies, and money was scarce. I had not yet met David, my current husband, and we were in harder times.

But when I took that tree out of the box, fluffed up the branches, added some lights and some homemade ornaments, something happened to that tree. It became ours. It has since grown roots in my heart, and so I've never wanted to get rid of it. It's part of our family history, a history of not much money but of perseverance, appreciation of little joys, and a memorial to the past.

I like that the girls didn't feel the need for the huge tree, that they wanted to hear about our less fortunate times, and that they are growing an understanding of where we are now because of those stories. They know we are not wealthy, but thank God, they have never known hunger. And they always have had a Christmas, usually more than one because of all our separate family celebrations. There is a benefit to being divorced--our children are spoiled at least three times at Christmas!

Not everyone can say this. I look at the wealth we have, the things we have been given so that we may give as well, and I say, WOW. We've come a long way from that little apartment. I've come a long way from living in a dilapidated rooming house back in my college days.

Our Christmas Vine is lovely, and our family is lovelier. May we all be able to turn our memories into trees and plant our gifts beneath them.

What We Did on the Snow Day

2007-12-06T05:44:00.000-08:00

...an original poem typed up and emailed on an icy morning while off from school.... Understand how slowly she types and the concentration it requires to get the full effect of these efforts. Erika wrote this completely on the computer, and we edited together.

Snow by Erika Mooney

Snow is extremely cold.
It can be packed and thrown.
It also could be a snowman.
Snow can cancel school!
Snowflakes are in many shapes and sizes.
Snow, snow, snow, I just love snow.
DO YOU LOVE SNOW????????

...an original piece typed and emailed (an arduous task), Alexandra had worked on this at school. The piece describes our...um...plump cat, Fiona. Thank you to Alexandra's fabulous teachers for bringing out the best in her writing!

My Fat Cat

My cat is huge. Dad just thinks that my cat fat, but she is not fat. So we put her on a diet and she lost two pounds, but she is still fat. My Mom just likes to pick her up and make her run, but she’s still fat. Erika thinks she needs good food, but she's still fat. I think she is cute, and she will be my cat forever even if she’s fat.

The End.
by Alex

Sunday Morning Bliss

2007-11-11T05:10:00.000-08:00

Looking forward to escaping the madness of Northern Virginia swoops in pleasure only a few feel. You need to live in a high stress area to understand how very necessary it is to escape regularly, preferably at least once a month. Abandoning the messy house, the homework, the ringing phone, the work that takes place on this PC....if I don't get it, I miss an important part of my Zen.

The kids, the husband, the dog all feel it too, the anticipation of release, the hugs from Grandma and Grandpa, the drop-in family members, the Uncle who has a history of taking in strays (people), the time to work on scrapbook, sewing, reading, the celebration of birthdays and holidays. Something happens when love abounds, when peace is at its best. It begins with a healthy family.

When we go to Grandma and Grandpa's, my eldest often likes to dress up. This is not unusual for her, but what's unusual is her thinking it's a special occasion, which of course, it is, though we do it so often. In the summer, it's bathing suits, but she still prefers skorts to shorts and sandals or shoes to sneakers. Not so with the younger one, who lives in jeans and t-shirts. Getting her to wear shoes is a conversation I reserve only for holidays now. Choose your battles.

But at the moment, preparing is not so automatic. The routine of getting ready fragments with the excitement, and the kids forget they need to do things before we can leave. They must dress, brush their teeth, pack, eat breakfast...all the usual things plus extras.

I hear foot stomping upstairs. I better go check if we expect to get away!

Dragon, Salad Head and Sailing

2007-11-10T16:40:00.000-08:00

Erika's Dragon and Alexandra's "Salad Head."

Erika's Dragon took shape en route to home. It's a monster of her own creation, something she said would "be the scariest thing ever." Alexandra said, "You wouldn't want it in your room."

Alexandra's "Salad Head" is made up of fruits

and vegetables. See if you can identify which part is which!

Alexandra has also been doing a bit of painting with me. Here we see her sailboat.

Here is Alexandra's World.

Erika's Elicat is a crossbreed of an Eagle and a cat. It can climb or fly, and it obviously prefers trees.

Diving into Fall

2007-09-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

I got this "meme" from Dive over at Small Glass Planet and thought it would make a brilliant backdrop for the pics we took today in the park. It is finally fall here! I would have romped with the dog had it not been for this sinus infection I am fighting (yes....yet another one). But thank you, Dive...I now know what a meme is. It's a thing that's "all about me." Bloggers seem to be fond of them, as do some friends on email, so here goes. (BTW, if you visit Dive, bewares. He's raunchier than I am, AND he's British, which makes him automatically more talented at raunch.)

Hi, my name is Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt

Never in my life have I eaten tripe, sheep's eyes or tongue.

Never in my life have I been to any place outside of North America. Nor have I ever been to a vampire club. I always thought that would be an interesting kind of place to visit.

When I am nervous I say stupid things, stumble over my words, or crawl inside my head like a snail ducking for cover. Of course, sometimes I say stupid things when I am NOT nervous. And I often lose my words as well.

The last song I listened to was the theme from Scooby Doo.

If I were to get married right now, it would be to my husband. But we are already married. So I'm good.

My hair needs a coloring and maybe even a perm.

When I was four, I was younger than I am now. I was also smarter.

Last Christmas was a long time ago.

I should be smarter somehow.

When I look down I see a coffee stain on my t-shirt.

The happiest recent event was walking with hubby and doggy in the park today.

If I were a character in Friends, I would look fat next to them.

By this time next year, I will be a world famous blogger with millions of adoring fans and blocked pop-up ads.

My current distress is my stomach hurts from the antibiotics.

I have a hard time understanding math. Limitations. Supposedly intelligent people who are racist.

I want to buy time.

I plan on visiting my in-laws next weekend.

If I could spend the night at any house, it would be those castles in Scooby Doo episodes.

The world could do without hatred and stupidity. Violence. Petty people.

The most recent thing I bought myself is a dress (off ebay) and some prescriptions (not off ebay).

The most recent thing that someone else bought for me was groceries.

My middle name is Mercurio. It used to be Mary, but I changed it when I got married. I took my maiden name as my middle name.

In the morning I have to make sure the girls get ready for school. I need coffee. I like to write.

Last night I was sick.

There is this guy I know that needs his face slapped thoroughly.

If I was an animal, I would be a Canadian Goose.

A better name for me would be Wings.

Tomorrow, I will go to church. Don't I sound wholesome?

On Saturday mornings I like to write.

Tonight we will all be home together.

Lake Brittle, Part II

2007-09-02T05:38:00.000-07:00

The beauty of Lake Brittle, take two, this time on a longer hike with Hubby. We soon discovered that the trail does not go all the way around the lake. We made our way through webs and spiders that looked strong enough to eat us. Their webs caught us along the way, no normal webs, strong webs, the kind that feel like thin, nylon threads.

One of the first, cool days of the season, the kind of day that makes you high, breathing in fresh air instead of heat, spirited air, not the still air of late summer.

And a glorious day to fish.....everyone was out, though apparently, not many fish were caught by the reports. My husband says I am getting like his father, talking to everyone I run into....I love to ask, "Did you catch anything?" And a passer by with a German Shepherd..."Is your puppy friendly? Can I pet him?"

And I cannot seem to stop taking pictures. I am getting just like my mother. I wish I had taken a picture of the blond boy and girl searching for craw daddies, but I really never know how perfect strangers feel about that.

Soon, I might start hugging these strangers, the way my mother does. But that's what a cool day with flowers does to me. How I love the beauty of life!

A Few Hours at the Lake

2007-08-04T12:38:00.001-07:00

We are happy to have found yet another unexplored park and one with wonderful water...Lake Brittle. I have been wondering where all the real lakes are in Virginia.

We'd looked for this place before and never could find it. It's rather tucked away, and we needed the website directions to get there (not much signage). It was well worth it, and the drive is lovely...through sections of still preserved farmland and woods. What a breath of fresh, albeit hot, air! And I bet this place is gorgeous in the winter.

A sweet local boy shows us all how to catch crayfish and what frogs' eggs look like.

We find a hurt bird on the trail and try to ease its passing.

The walks and docks make this a perfect place for fishing and meandering.

Butterflies and dragonflies feast on t he shoreline.

Maybe next time, the boat rental office will be open and we will get to row in the water.

Looking forward to going back to visit the butterflies.

The Case for Camping

2007-06-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

Stirring up the mud from the creek, we waded through cool water, scanning the edges of underwater terrain for shadows of fish, polliwogs, or snakes. Rambunctious minnows dodged our feet which were still clad in sandals, leather moccasins, and one pair only in socks that will never again be white. After all, we wanted the experience, but we didn't want to risk intimacy with a stray broken bottle or orphaned fish hook. The socks didn't provide much protection, true, but they gave my younger daughter some relief from the "ick" of the most squishy mud.

But before all that, we had loaded the bikes into the van, three piled one on top another, a confusing pyramid in the limited space of the van's body, trying to keep pedals from locking into spokes and tires from scraping the children's knees. Though squished, the girls insisted that they could ride like this for hours, and I thanked fate the park is less than thirty minutes away. I didn't worry when taking right hand turns because the bikes and children were packed so tightly, there was no room for avalanche or injury, so the ride went rather well.

The road in Bull Run Regional Park is lovingly flat for those of us who are not often or avid riders, and even the youngest could keep up with her shiftless bicycle. Now and then rain sprinkled through an odd summer sun that was neither too warm nor too evasive, and the breeze, a gift for bike riders, added to our enjoyment. I will not pretend there was not a certain amount of whining ("My legs feel like jelly!" and "Mom...can I be second?" "MOM! I don't WANT to be last!") and I can't say some of the whining didn't come from me, but mine at least came much later when in the evening I was reminded once again that my behind does not fit the shape of a bike seat, even with a gel pad.

Still, we rode from the entrance up to the camp store where I had a sudden attack of, "I don't want to leave here!" and ran in to see if they had cabins available for this coming weekend. And miracle of miracles, or fate of fate, which ever you prefer, there were, even though the 4th of July is almost upon us. I made the reservation (grinning so much I am sure the young man behind the wooden counter was getting nervous), made sure we could get a rain check if for some reason it didn't work out, and then pondered how I was going to sell this wonderful idea to my husband AFTER I had already drooled on the camp map and paid for two nights for which I was charged under $150.00.

A bottle of water later, we took the bikes over to the playground where the girls slithered happily through huge, cement tubes surrounded by enough sand to host a beach. I lay on one of the benches under the shade, sucking in the sounds of playing children and the imagined sighs of my husband whom I pictured not wanting to go "away" this weekend. I played over and over again in my mind how I would present my case, recalling that he had promised we would do this SOME time over the summer....we just hadn't discussed doing it quite so soon. Besides, there were so many things we could do in the park: hike, play mini-golf, build camp fires, swim in the huge pool with slides and fountains, fish, even an air conditioned cabin.... And all so close by. What was not to love? And if really was too soon, well, we could always take the rain check and use the reservation another time.

Ruminations on hold, I walked over to see my daughters engaged and covered in sand, crouching in the cement tube in some childhood realm that we as adults no longer have access to. I asked them if they were ready to leave. They were, and being hot (since there are no trees covering the playground and sand), asked to wade in the creek. They were excited when I said yes and discovered we could ride the bikes there as well. So we parked the bikes near a steep, inclined access to the creek, and slipping somewhat on packed clay all the way to the base, had the water take away our sweat from the days' exertions. And now, my cell phone, still in the van, was only a hundred or so yards away.....

The bikes back in the van, the girls buckled in, I made the call. I made the case.

And he said...

"Yes."

YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Tick, Tick, Tick

2007-06-13T09:41:00.000-07:00

I got to go on a charming hike this morning. It was meant to be an hour or so in order to give me time to get some other things done. It ended up being two and a half hours, none of which I regret, but some of which were spent in the discomfort of knowing I was, once again, completely lost and that time was, indeed, passing.

Now I have several theories of being lost in the woods on trails, one of which I have held true since getting lost driving in the Boston area: so long as you are on Earth, you are never really lost. My husband says this is rather a broad theory to live by, and in some ways, especially on days like today, I have to agree with him. When I called him from the trail and reminded him of my other theory, "Well it has to come out SOMEWHERE," he reminded me that "somewhere" might be a very long way off and did I really have time for that? Today he also said I would have to face a lengthy lecture from him when he got home. I really didn't mean to worry him. But when you are alone and thinking you are lost and you have a cell phone, it does help to talk to one you love....and of course, one who can look up locations on the Internet.

I wandered around quite a bit more, recalling that "not all those who wander are lost," and it turns out I wasn't so VERY lost, as is usually the case (it's not like I am hiking in the Shenandoah Valley or the Rockies by myself...I was in a county park), and along with his other good advice (like "would you PLEASE get a compass???") my husband advised me after looking up a map, "Well, you are not in Quantico, which is good. You will either end up in the middle of county woods or in a housing development." A few more miles of hiking, I finally did hear vehicles on a road--it had been deliciously but then rather disturbingly silent from traffic until then. Traffic and construction are a given in this area unless you REALLY wander out, and I was back to the familiar sounds of dump trucks. Eager to end my trot at this point, I followed the echoes, and of course, lo and behold.....a subdivision in the distance.

They were still building, and I had to jump some partitions and waddle through high grass before I realized suddenly I was in the back yards of gazillion dollar homes with 10+ acres of land per lot. I breathed relief that no residents came out to question why a sweaty thirty-something carrying a camera was meandering across their property, as I would have been quite embarrassed to admit that once again, I was indeed turned around, and this time in a park I had visited only twice before.

I used to get lost in a park that no matter where you got went, you ended up by a road sooner than later, and you could always hear the traffic. Today's park was a little different, and there were absolutely no signs to indicate the trails or directions. My mother called, mid-adventure, and when I told her where I was (or wasn't), she treated me to her usual hysteria complete with reminders that "they are all crazy out there." Apparently, in her mind, everyone is crazy except those who reside in Orlando, which seems rather odd to me considering the number of people there dressed like cartoon characters and princesses.

So in the end, my theory that I would come out SOMEWHERE indeed proved true, and I headed back down the main road towards the park and the parking lot. On the way, I was treated to a goose with her little ones heading towards a small pond housed on some rich person's front lawn, and so I took a picture. I wondered after if the owner would run out and question me, but no...nothing. I think if someone were walking around taking pictures of the front of MY house, I would want to know why, but maybe no one saw me. I would have just told them the truth--that I wanted to take pictures of their Canadian Geese. If they asked why again, I would have to delve into my wish to come back as a Canadian Goose in my next life, but that I would not want to spend that lifetime in their front yard. This might have taken several hours of explaining, so I am glad no one came out.

No harm done, then, except I annoyed and worried my husband, elicited some typical panic from my mother, and got ample blisters on my unprepared feet. It struck me that perhaps, even if I do buy a compass, I should write to the county and ask them why there are no markers on their trails, and maybe I will at some point. But after I relax a little and search for ticks.

Yuck. I hope I don't find any.

Now is the Winter of Our Discontent

2007-06-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

Well, as always happens after I visit someone whose backyard is filled with space and trees, I have become seriously jealous of those who are not crammed into expensive subdivisions made more for profit than for human living. Now I really hate to be jealous. It's not an emotion or a quality I aspire to, yet I find myself feeling it all the time because as I noted before to Lilith, it's hard not to compare yourself to your own idea of perfection. This is true in writing, in the arts, and in life.

Still, I got up this morning and looked out my back porch at the little "woods" we DO have, and I was truly thankful for the summer birds and squirrels. The squirrels have learned to raid our porch supply of seed, climbing into the plastic bin by first nibbling a hole in the cover, removing the cover, and diving right in. We have had to relocate the bins back into the kitchen, but that has not stopped the squirrels from foraging through the pots of "plants" on our deck. What smart little creatures they are, and so full of mischief! I do wish, however, they would clean up after themselves, especially after they dump potting soil all over the deck.

But even while I am extremely grateful for everything we have including our squirrels, what makes me most jealous is beauty--beauty in the natural world, and to a point (only to a point) physical, bodily beauty. I go back and forth on envying bodily beauty because my concept of what is beautiful changes so often, and I do not wish at all to be beautiful in the commercial sense. I do wish I were healthier and thinner and that all the imperfections of things like my thighs and stretch marks would disappear. But all of this is purely secondary to my love of beautiful surroundings, namely, those decorated by the natural world.

I lust for trees. Yes, I want a yard, but more than anything, I want trees, big trees, the kind the kids can climb. When the children were small, I lived in a townhouse preempted by a huge tree right in the small front yard. It was lovely. I could see it from every front window, and it reached the third level. It turned colors with the seasons and it shed it ample leaves, enough to make scarecrows from. But the best part of this place, even though it was smaller and far less assuming than this place, was that there is a trail running in back of the development. The trail rambles first behind the other town homes, and eventually, behind the tennis courts, and then into the woods alongside a stream. Across the stream parallels Bull Run Regional Park. We could engage in a forested walk whenever we wanted, and the trail went on for miles. If we walked far enough, we would end up at Splash Down, a water park on the other side of town and practically in another county.

I first discovered this trail accidentally when my brother was living with me, prior to my re-marriage. My children were away visiting my ex-husband, and I convinced my brother to walk with me and my Shiba Inu. It was rather a warm day, but it was the first time I able to venture so far without my toddler and pre-schooler, and so we walked and walked, noting the ebbs and flow of the stream, the flowers, the huge trees, him sweating and complaining, the dog stopping to sniff anything remotely interesting to her.

At one point we came upon a miniature bamboo forest. Only having lived in this area for about a year, I was surprised that bamboo could grow here. My husband and I have walked back here a few times since then, and the bamboo forest has spread. He thinks probably someone planted one or two sprouts, and the stuff has spread with the moistness of that trail.

I remember one of the first times I walked there alone while the spring flowers were blooming. I don't know what these flowers were, but they were bright yellow, and a veritable field of them. I came to them from around a corner, and the shock of seeing them all.....and it amazed me to be so amazed by sudden yellow flowers.

That is when I decided the best place to live would be in a home with trees, but a home that backed up to a park that would never be developed. I would not have to maintain the trails (not really in the scope of my talents or budget) but I could traipse through the woods regularly and bathe in all that nature has to offer those of us who require beauty. In the meantime, I am sure I will have to be jealous.

Some summer or winter, I will be able to drop my jealousy and it will all seem like a stupid period of time in my life, one wasted with thoughts of "never." Until then, I do love my squirrels, and I remember a time when the woods were so at my fingertips, I felt like I could breathe.

Quotes from the Kids

2007-05-31T14:13:00.000-07:00

Erika, age 12, December 31, 2009

"I'm never going to wear makeup again."

We'll see how long that lasts.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Erika: I can't find my glasses! I've looked everywhere!
Us: Let us help.
Hours later with no success.....
Girls: Mom! Dad! Can we watch a movie?
Mom and Dad: Yes.
Five minutes later...
Girls: WE CAN'T GET THE TAPE IN! IT'S JAMMED!
Dad (fiddling with it for five minutes): I don't know what's wrong with this thing. The tape won't go in.
Five minutes later....
Daddy: ERRRRRRRIKA......what are your glasses doing INSIDE THE VCR????
Erika: I don't know! I don't know! I didn't put them there!
Daddy: Did you put them there Alex?
Alexandra: No.
Ten minutes later.....
Alexandra: Okay. Yes. I did put them there. I wanted to play at trick on Erika. (ages 10 and 11)
_______________________________-
Me: I have a lot of papers to grade. I don't know how I am ever going to get them done.

Alexandra (age 9): My teacher has to grade lots of papers. She has forty!

Me: Teachers have to do so much work! I don't know where they get the energy."

Alexandra: "They get it from food when they eat!"

______________________________________________________________

The geese had bands around their legs. "Oh!" I said, pointing to one male. "He has a band around his leg. Do you know what that means?" I asked the girls.

"Yes," said Erika, nine at the time. "That's for social security." (Erika, age 9)

___________________________

Daddy was holding Alexandra's stuffed bunny rabbit, and she wanted it back. Daddy pouted and held it close to his chest, pretending he didn't want to give it up. "Don't worry, Daddy," she said. "You have ME!" (age 7 at the time)

___________________________________

Erika, age nine at the time: "Some people say that butterflies are the souls of people."
What a lovely thought! (Erika, age 9)

___________________________________

"Alexandra, take chill pill," I said.

"A chill pill? Is that like amoxicillin?"
(age 8)

___________________________________

After watching the movie and listening to music from Phantom of the Opera: "The Phantom should watch Hunchback of Notre Dame. That would make him feel better. Quasimotto looked ugly, too, but his friends loved him and helped him and he didn't hate anyone. "

They might not have said this had they read the original book, but.....they have the right idea, don't they? (ages 9 and 10)

__________________________________

Erika shouting at the bus stop: "Bye Mom! Love you! Don't let Shiba eat cat puke today!"

I'm going to get her for that. (age 10)

__________________________________

Erika to her teacher at the teacher's conference: "Ms. M. You have bed head!"

After giving Erika my "look" : "It's okay. Sometimes I have bedhead too."

We're still working on those social skills. (age 10)

________________________________________

Erika (age 10): "I know how you met Daddy."
Mom: "How?"
Erika: "On e-Harmony.com"

Pause. Mom: (after fits of laughter, because it's just not the same world it used to be) "Well, you're kind of right. Except it was Yahoo Personals."

Kind of makes me wonder how THEY will meet their future loves.

__________________________________-

At three years old, Erika was accustomed to a baby gate across her door, giving her time to play quietly before she took a nap in her toddler bed.

One day, I decided to see if she would nap without the gate.

"Mommy!" I heard, as I walked down the hall.

"What honey?"

"I can't sleep without my nap-time cage!"

______________________________

Something to picture:

Alexandra, age ten, riding on her bike, holding a dead beaver by its tail.

"I wanted to bring it home to bury it."

_______________________________

Erika, age 12, talking to Sallie, the dog, who apparently felt her be-hind wasn't as clean as it could be: "Sallie--stop butt surfing!"

______________________________

Alexandra, age 11, upon seeing a wig: "That thing freaks me out. I'M KEEPING AN EYE ON YOU, WIG!"

Going to the Woods to Live Deliberately

2007-05-31T08:47:00.000-07:00

There are few things that give me so much pleasure as being in the woods.

Of course, there are bugs and pollen and sneezes, but these natural annoyances are parts and parcels of the forest and of me. I learned to live with these and love the woods at an early age, and some parts of the personality, thank goodness, never change.

I took a side trail in the park this morning, and decided to sit on a small mound of grass by the stream, one of my children's already used notebooks on my lap, sunglasses and fanny pack tossed aside for the moment. A thick limb overhung the stream, ric-rac reflections from the water casting images on bark, bright light on coarse brown, nothing but the banter of the birds and this light soothing my senses. I wonder if birds can see reflections.

A tiny fish surprised me, jumping out of the shallow water, the splash emanating ripples and quiet watery sounds, audio-visual treats from someone like me who is often overwhelmed in a busy audio-visual world. You see, I have ADD, and I often feel like a sensory sponge. But a sponge can hold only so much liquid. I tend to absorb most of what is around me, distracted by the external, and all at the same time. I come to the woods for a bit of a break. And in the woods, I get to think and write in ways I cannot at home.

I was soon distracted not by one but by three families of Canadian Geese gliding over the thin water, behind each adult, at least four goslings. They stopped at the base of a narrow, damp ribbon of a trail, one adult taking the lead climbing what must have been a steep challenge for the waddling goslings that followed. That was the pattern: adult, goslings, adult goslings, adult, goslings, a combined group of close to twenty.

Having made it to the top, they began to feed, and I thought about joining their family. This is a park, and they live in peace. The worms are plentiful and the people on this remote trail, sparse. I was the only one there, and I wondered who else had used the trail. It was a bit overrun and off the beaten path, just like I love a trail to be.

It is cool in the woods when the air is warm, and it is alive when our society feels dead. How I would love to be camping right now, more hours in the woods, living alongside birds.

Soon, I promise myself. We will take a camping trip soon.