Thirteen - 4teen - Fifteen

Thankful for Tough days as a mom, they remind me how wonderful the good days are.


Thankful for Omara's (or Baileys) when added to hot cocoa. It helps me unwind after one of the previously mentioned tough days.


Thankful for friends and family supporting my passions in crafting and writing.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

You should be ASHAMED!

Image
Dear Mom-in-Fred-Meyers today. This is an open letter to you, and all moms (and dads) who think it's okay to teach your kids hate and judgment at a young age. Those who teach bullying, and discrimination because of looks. This is to you and your hateful, spiteful selves. You should be ASHAMED! You're the cause of most of the pain in the world. When I took my boys into the ladies bathroom to go potty before they went to Playland, and my 5-year-old complimented your daughter's teddy bear and she sneered at him. Not even a thank you. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it came when my boys were trying to wash their hands and your 3-4 yr old son pushed my 5-year-old aside, and in perfect Toddler-esque English told my son, "You can't be a real boy if you wear that on your hands. Boys don't do that." Excuse the FUCK outta me? Did I seriously just hear gender shaming from a 4 yr old? You know damn well that didn't come of his own v
Read more

Dirt Therapy

Image
A few months ago (okay, longer than that...) I wrote about the brown-ness of where I grew up. Now I need to be clear, I grew up on and around farmland, but very little GREEN grew there. It was brown (potatoes), brown (wheat), brown-sage (mint), and brown-yellow (alfalfa). You can't find berry bushes or more than a few handfuls of tomato plants in my home desert. (Photos courtesy of DD Ranch [My dad's neighbors] Terrebonne, OR) When I moved a couple years ago (renewing our 3rd lease) I realized how much GREEN we could have. I love the hustle and bustle of the city. I loved the fast-paced, everything within a few min drive...but as time has worn on, I miss dirt therapy. (Buckman Community Garden) I miss the animals, and the smell of rich compost (because you can't plant straight to soil in the desert) I miss the idea of the country, if not the actual country I grew up in. Images Courtesy of Croakers Crossing Farm I've felt an intense pull to
Read more

Writing Exercise - Eutopia

Image
My husband is taking a writing class for college, and his professor gave him a prompt that triggered my fascination. It was about the idea of Eutopia. Not to be confused with Utopia (a space of perfection), a Eutopia is a place  in which you experienced a feeling of perfect euphoria. He was asked to write a piece that invoked all 5 senses to describe a moment of perfect Euphoria. *** The chill on my shoulders creates goosebumps along my arms, and I pull the soft wool wrap tighter to keep in the warmth. The salty wind tussles my hair, flinging the ponytail every which way. I close my eyes against the blowing sand, turning my back to the oncoming wind. I can feel the static in the air singing of the oncoming storm. It's about time to head indoors, but I stay a few minutes longer. The frigid surf washes up debris knocked loose from the rocks out to sea. Long tangled bull kelp, rafts of seagrass covered in itty bitty crawling things. The ocean air smell different than no
Read more