My Fondness Of The Sprit: Dedicated to Lindsey

The "Anatomy of the Spirit" is a book beautifully written by Carolyn Myss PH.D. It creatively entails information about the meticulous layout of all your bodies energy circuits woven together with the same thread to create your seven chakras. Naturally, we are all biologically designed on some parallel level, with each charge of energy in our lives (both positive and negative) ultimately effecting our health's destiny. In other words, if you choose to let your mind go to this place, we are in more ways than you may realize, in complete power of our overall well being. Digging deep into, and learning about your chakras can be a gift of alternative medicine, one that I believe is extremely effective and highly fascinating. When you stop to think about what our bodies are scientifically made out of: matter, cells, tissue, atoms, etc., it's no wonder that our actual everyday life experiences and emotions that bring positive and negative charges into our bodies is truly the driving force. The good old saying "it's all in your head", is both annoying when we are at our most vulnerable and desperate stages, and slightly, if not mostly, true. The beauty of becoming aware of your seven chakras, is the beauty of becoming more 'aware'. Basically, our chakras hold a regulated balance of all that is good in life. When negative energy comes in contact with our perfect scale, our whole body can be thrown into a state of panic. And believe me, my body knows panic. I've never felt more un-alligned in my life at times. Moments of physical and mental dispair. They always compliment each other brilliantly, in the most witty format. Example: the week after my husband, son, and I moved into a new house, I was also taking on the demands of my small business, running around like a chicken without a head. My left ankle that had re-constructive surgery over 9 years ago randomly starts hurting with sharp, unmanageable pain. I'm limping like a gimp once again. The energy anatomy of the seven chakras diagnosis states this: my first chakra is directly related to my legs and bones. It's emotional issues involve the ability to "feel at home" and the left side of your body is entirely associated with the female trait of nuturing and domestic responsibility. Conclusion and remedy is this: I have just moved to unfamiliar surroundings, while taking on too many demands that leave me absent in the role taking care of my home and family. My first chakra is way out of wack, and eventually has sent my leg into a panicked state. Is this just too wacky and spiritually blown out of proportion, or extremely coincidental and in need of a serious look deep within? I strongly believe in this 'new to me' form of energy medicine. How could I not? A couple weeks after my pain, it slowly subsided as I adjusted to my new change, and made more time to contribute to my feminine side of nuturing my beautiful family. Wow. For me, it's been quite a gift to have formed a new outlook on life that deeper defines the need to have personal power. Personal power over ones mind, body, heart, and soul. We all know the need to have some sort of power in our lives, but the right power is ultimately the healthiest.

vicariously through him

The subject matter is taekwondo. The best form of discipline for any student, but especially my student. An art that teaches the respectful use of the bodies strongest muscle, the brain. A class that sends my son's focus into new profound levels of intensity. A reminder to live life like a lion, be strong like a tree, and to never melt like a candle. The kick is round, side, and front. The punch is followed by a kiyah, and the stance is horse or jumbi. But today, the student's eyes wonder, as a new boy enters the room. The new kid is distracting, and not at all interested in respecting the teacher or it's brilliant students. He is running around the room and rolling all over the floor, telling the teacher "No", and "I'm tired". I am watching this little piece of distruction make havoc of this usually sharply orchestrated class, trying not to let the others see steam rising out of my head. He is disrupting the vibe of that which is taekwondo, nonetheless waisting my money as the teacher now focuses all of his energy on the rebel in the corner. Finally, it is my favorite part of class, judo sweep tournament has begun. My son is paired with four different students, gloriously defeating them all one by one. As each student drops to the mat with the sweep of my son's leg, they are picked back up by his helping hand to make sure that they are okay. The new kid now decides he would like a turn at this, as if he is at pre-school accepting a paint brush to now paint a picture. He foolishly wiggles over to my son, rolling his eyes with his tongue out, giggling like a joke. I'm not sure what's about to happen, but I know deep down inside what I would like the outcome to be. It is time for this kid to rule out child's play and practice respect. Time for him to get judo sweeped like lint on the floor and open his eyes to wax on, wax off. Instructor says, "Judo sweep, GO". And BAM. My son wraps his leg under his and sends the kids' body 3 feet into the air with a THUD for a landing. A quiet before the storm fills the air. I look far far away from the mother of this child. I am stoked my son is such a stud, with a kind heart. With no intentions of malicious defeat, my son is not boastful or proud. Just playing his role as a resilient student. Perhaps tomorrow the new kid will show up to class walking taller, showing respect to both teacher and student, interested in a new way of learning. Or perhaps not, and I will have to cruelly think of other ways he can be put into his place. (Ouch. Did I just make that thought public?)

knot comes loose

"Can't you see that I'm smiling?
Can't you see there's a part of me that 's brand new?
Used to be, was a part of me felt like hiding
but now it comes through.

Deep in my heart, that's where the knot comes loose.
Deep in my heart, I will remember you.

All my lovely life I've been waiting,
hot heels aniticipating.
Another love I found, not to let it down."

-Jim James

this blue house

I like the smell of my new town when I go out for a walk. Not too far up the road, past the first farm, sits fields of country calmly tucked away in the views of dusted mountains. The scents are different now, it's a whiff that brings me back to my childhood. From a small handful of visits to the stock show and to the barn where my mom took care of her cousins horses when I was a kid, I feel settled in the hearty smell of hay and horse droppings that shelter the meadows tucked behind old gates. On a cold, cloudy, and drizzling day, you can inhale the smell of bathed, oraganic, Earth as it steams off of the mud. There's something natural about being here. I am growing fond of this new place called home that gives me constant vibes of down to earth wholesomeness. Everyone deserves a piece of that...

consumed

When you look at a child, what do you see? If I am graced with such presence, the rest of the world and everything in view peacefully disappears and all I see is the innocent and mysterious life that stands in front of me. Being a mother has given me the gift of empathy. While I've always had a sensitive soul, more often than not I ponder that root. I've recently been reading a book about teaching tolerance to children about the world's differences as well as being empathetic to any child's background. But can empathy be taught? I definitely feel that a person is born with a leveled amount of compassion and empathy, but through life circumstances that trait either grows or fades. Empathy can come in many forms. It is silent by the way someone feels deep in thier heart. It is loud by the way someone acts and creates awareness through beliefs, that untimately, are driven by a persons true empathy. The more I dig deep, the more I realize that children are the true divine root of all empathy in the world. As children ourselves at one point in our lives, we were young and innocently blinded to the world's prejudice's. We were interested in people's differences whether it be color, shapes, or sizes. Curious in a way that demonstrated compassion and empathy. Unconditional love shined as little children, when we wanted to understand when someone was hurt or sad, and not judge them. A time when we wanted the whole Universe to be on our same page, and if they weren't, it was up to us to make them feel welcome, as if everyone belonged. I see it happen everyday. As I recently was given the amazing opportunity to teach, being an early educator has opened my eyes even more. As an example, the children don't see color as a form of labeling, but more as a fact and a trait to be recognized. When asked to color in thier traced hands on paper the color of their skin, they came up with genuine colors such as red, gray, and 'dark'. I think the best thing to take away from a child's view on the world is their freedom. The freedom and excuse to be curious and compassionate as young, empathetic, beings. Questioning everything, then on a quest to understand.

my story about Lucy

She was the backbone of all tradition in our family. Memories will never fade of walking up to her iron cast door when I was small, and entering a small house made to fit 8 filled with 30. The smell of tamles, green chile, and my favorite smell to this day, frijoles in the crockpot. All the women in the kitchen, elbow to elbow helping my Auntie pull dishes out of one of her ovens, setting tables and eating merrily in between to feed the hungry men and kids waiting in the dining room. When it was time to eat, it wasn't just a meal, it was an all night event. The dining room was a vision and smell I will never forget. A long table like the last supper, furry carpet, cabintes filled with glasses and fine china we never used. The buffet table showcasing all my Aunties hard days work was at least 12 feet long (at least in my childhood memory), with enough food to feed an army, or at least to last through night. To this day, one of my cherished treasures is a concept, not an item. The beauty of leaving the spread out all night long, to tastfully go back for more to sit down and eat again, stuffing myself with food and great consversations with my Auntie Lucy and Uncle Ernie. Even as a little girl, it's been in my blood to eat, a lot. When the Silva family came together with food, there was no messing around. It was the way to hand out love. Either in the form of bizcochos and cans of pepsi when you just stopped by, or huge plates of heavy sinful mexican delights oozing out of saran wrap on plastic plates to be re-visited later that night when we got home. Auntie never had judgement, always had love. The builder of family values and unconditional love in my heart. Like a mother of my father, and truly the host with the most. The parties and celebrations will live on forever. I strive to be just half of what an amazing family woman she was. I will continue to open my door with handouts of love and food, never to be put away. Rest in Peace Auntie Lucy. It breaks my heart to have been loved by someone like you, because your presence can never be replaced.

quote of the day

"Boys have a penis. Girls have a lasagna."

Oasis

He's 5, not 4 anymore.

He's tall enough to reach the sink,

He's able to understand love, I think.

He's everything I want to be,

presently engaged with the world at his fingertips.

Loved unconditionley by those he touches.

Emmeresed in life, questions unfold with each wonder.

He picks out his own shirts.

He's going to tie his own converse, determined at first.

He teaches me things about myself that runs deep,

He'll never know his effect on me.

Through his amazing chocolate eyes, life I see.

From the moment we met, I'd give my life for him.

As he grows into a little man I'll nudge him to stand on the limb,

To be the man his dad has been to me,

To be the way my dad constantly loves me.

woah, deep man...

It's immensely scary and somehow peaceful too, to know that this universe is something bigger than just ourselves. This shocking piece of information is relevant at times when I least expect it. The thought of our connection to everything and the true unconditional love that everyone is capable of, seems to both cloud and clear my judgement on a regular basis. The tiniest of memory, or largest of beauty will make my mind do somersaults and completely flip into the realization that we really are connected, at all times. We are not that different, you and I. Our images precede us, but our mark on the world has no prize. Its affect is seen in the eyes of the beholder. The air I breathe is the air you have exhaled. The creation of mankind is truly divine. It's moment like these, when I realize that the universe is something bigger than just myself that I want to keep and share. Share with you, because I know you get this too. It's the unexplainable that keeps us going. Hopes. Fears. Questions. Dreams. Like a wise man once said in my all time fav movie Flashdance, "If you loose your dream, you die." Oh, what a feeling...

I wish...

all closure was like moving. You can send off the 'old' to the thrifty store and let someone else now 'deal'. You can wrap up your precious belongings and bring them with you wherever you go. You can clean up that dirty house, and walk away. Move into your new gorgeous castle and decorate all over again. The more I think about it, the more it is. Wow. That was easy...

our first dance

"since you rescued me, the whole world is there to see..."

yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery

Have you ever seen 'Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind'? I've seen it four times now, and have finally figured out what to make of the whole thing. First of all, Kate Winslet potrays a perfect airy type girl that guys hate to love, or love to hate. She's all over the place and tries hard to act unique and be alternative. (This is not a critque on acting in this film, just a commentary on the characters in it). And last and least, she's 'that' girl who gets bored of a dude then dumps him. ( I have never EVER done this. I am a girl who plays no games, and just gets married already). Jim Carrey takes it deep with a meloncholy attitude that makes you want to dump him for her. Oh, in case you haven't had the viewing pleasure of this flick, it's simply about a Dr. who can perform a proceedure on your brain to erase a memory you personally choose to forget. Boy meets girl, relationship goes south, and both want the pain of each other to go away. They get thier minds re-booted so they won't have a memory of each other again. What if you could erase a bad memory from your head along with every thing and place that leads you back to it? Are our memories really that bad, that we would even consider such a thing? I can think of times when at the present moment I would have had my brain warped and re-wired to remember nothing of what had been. But now, from afar, it all makes sense why that had to happen to me. It's obvious that when there's all positive in your life, those bad memories make the good, really really good, and the present moment makes complete sense why you suffered so. But when it gets dark, there's a lot to be said about not wishing it away. It really comes down to the timeless question of 'fate'. Are our lives pre-mapped to be exactly what they have become? Or, as humans, are we smart enough to look at our sufferings to then create a positive? I think I believe in both. There has to be angels out there, guiding us to this place of happiness. But there is also this strong trait called responsibility, where we have been in complete control to choose where we breathe our air, the tastes in our mouth, the people in our hearts, and the memories we can move on from, to live in this gift called the present.

a stack of magazines

What's up with guys and the '20 minute dump'? I am constantly getting bumped out of my tiny little corner in the bathroom, where all things are girlie and smell of lotion, to wait patiently while my men sit on the throne like it's a part time job. It takes a lot of patience to be a mama, but even more to share a bathroom with dudes.

Writer's Block

"And the question is 'was i more alive than I am now?' I happily have to disagree. I laugh more often now, I cry more often now, I am more free." -Peter Bjorn and John

a Double D Day

wow. Is BOOBS a bad word? I don't use the word breast, well, only when refering to chicken. However, apparently my son loves BOOBS, and big ones at that. I was ultra excited to scoop him up from school today, I missed him dearly during his 6 hours away. I waltzed into the classroom with a grin he could probably hear from outside. When, there it was...his teacher standing cross armed, waiting to 'speak' with me for a second. "Your son has had a hard day today." Okay... in what way? I think a thousands random thoughts about the possibilities of what constitutes a 'hard' day for a 4 year old, especially my 4 year old. The kid is a 13 year old trapped in a 4 year old's body. He blows me away with his witty mind and handsome maturity. So I know that the possibilities are endless as to what he could have possibly talked about in the classroom on this particular day. "Well, he told his friends that he wanted to read this book called 'Pickle' again so he could look at the picture of the girl with big BOOBS." At this point the teacher is concerned, I am concentrated on the fact that my smile will soon turn into hysterical laughter. What's the big deal? Seriously? We all have BOOBS. Some are small, and some are big. Some are just right. My question is not to the poor kid who noticed the enormous boobs in the picture in the first place, but to the illustrater who drew them. At what point does the illustrater think to themselves, 'this chic's gonna have huge boobs' and then execute. My son was just being him manly self, making a witty observation. Maybe I should work on his lingo...

swallowing the keys to my mind

sometimes i feel capable of unlocking my truths to the world, then i quickly put them back and feed them only to those who are hungry to know.

divine creation

As I arrive at the party of the summer, I now realize what it was I left behind. When the day has finally come, I think to myself, maybe so, maybe not. Yeah, I'm into this. It's you know who you know where, and I've one tracked my mind for so long to this moment, it feels numb when I finally arrive. It's really just another day, filled with moments that can be talked about tomorrow. I've had lots of those days. They come and go and leave impressions in my mind that create my personal make up to date. But something's different about this one. It's going to be a day when I will remember what it's like to bleed my heart out to a stage, and smile with everyone, because for a couple of hours, our passion is the same. A moment to see the reasons why I love this so much in the first place. Beautiful friends, no matter how long it's been. New friends, no matter how short our time. I look around and see that nothing's really changed. But everything is different. I think that my soul will explode when the music keeps on playing, but quickly I see that what's inside of me has quietly evolved. I used to love this 'moment' so much. My passion was living in that dream, moving blindly to get to the next one. My love was for the 'best show'. But now, I love something even more. I could never replace my new profound love with any note or chord. I couldn't bear the thought of loving my great new love for just one night, being caught up in one single moment. I want lots of these moments. Everyday, all night long. By my side, three and half feet tall and big brown eyes. Thank you my son, for putting that 'spark' back into my life. I didn't know it was missing, because it never really left.

how i got here

when my heart is there and my head is here, I'll follow my heart exclusively

read between the lines

If you were a cover to a book, which one would you be? Life is full of illustraters, trying to create a glamazon paperback cover. But why try so hard? My favorite people in life are the ones who don't just paint a picture, but who write the book. I admire people who are present, alive, and real. It gives me inspiration to run across a soul who posesses the essence of being truly present. You'll know when you meet them, it kindly smacks you right across the face to slow down and take it all in. It gives me motivation to have 'alive' people amongst me. Alive for a purpose, to get shit done, and shine like the sun. These kind of people are the ones that stick, hard to forget, positively lingering in your head. It gives me hope to have people in my life who are real. Real at being themselves and giving you the ultimate gift of friendship. Real, because they're just a person too. With eyes closed and voice still, just a beating heart, blood, and muscles, encased in a cage of ribs. So what does this have to do with how flashy and loud you are? Exactly.

koochie koo goo goo blah blah

What's up with baby talk? Come on, no matter how little your child or how small your dog, it's like hot sugar in my ears. I raise my boy to become a man. Not a wimp. When in the presence of parents who raise the tone of thier voice that could inundate a dog whistle and who add "ies" at the end of each word, I think to myself "would you want a snackie before or after you had poopies?". I guess from the beginning, I've always looked at my son like a tape recorder for my deep and poetic thoughts, as if he was going to write my book someday. And maybe he will. It's simply contemptible to limit your childs intellectual capabilities from the very beginning, so he or she looks at your head like a helium balloon with desires of finding a needle and popping it. So for goodness sake, give your child the gift of becoming that 'egg head'. And if he wants to crack it later in life, the yolk will be his own mess to clean.

thought of the day

if you've got pebbles in your mouth, spit them out.

crushin'

The sole purpose of writing this down is so I never EVER forget this. So, I'm sitting here cuddling with my son, telling him how much I love him. His reply, "Mom, I think that's why I love Annie (his new cute lady friend), because when I was coloring with her at school, she made me feel like I was coloring with you." Tears. Tears. Tears. Wow. That one hurt so good. My response, "they better all make you feel that way, or else..."

Love is a freedom we all know

I was booking up a trail by my house, trying to get in both excercise, peace and tranquility. I found this little path off the beaten trail and followed it to sit on top of this huge rock facing a valley with running water. Often, when I find myself alone in nature, I either contemplate almost everything but the kitchen sink, or nothing at all. I can become so deep in thought that I forget how I got here, or so spaced that I can hear the ants making tunnels in the dirt. Today, my head was filled with books of random thoughts, and I looked up into the sky to try to find some peace and quiet. And, I kid you not, I saw a whisp of clouds that at first read "LOVE". I looked back up again to convince myself this was just an illusion, and the whisp quickly read "LIVE", and then faded away into royal blue sky. All of the sudden, everything in my head became extremely quiet and I saw the purpose for everything in my life, or at least for the day. Love makes you live. So touche, but honestly true. As example, I was talking to a 'client' not to long ago, and apparantley I kept saying things such as "I love the way that looks", or "I love making that", and I quickly fell embarrassed when she replied back, "You just love everything, don't you Erin", then I wiped that shame away and said, "yeah, I do."

beans and cheese anytime of the day

So, let's talk soul food. In great hopes that everyone has some 'soul' to go home too, it's the best thing since sliced bread, I mean warm torts. I love love love the fact that when I go home to 'Pops' house, I get my dose everytime. My dad always shoving a bowl of green chile in my face with a bag of broken up corn chips, asking me my opinion on his new recipe. The funny thing is, it always tastes the same to me. The chiles are so hot that most of the time I can't tell the difference. And salsa, it's like a foodgroup. Without a doubt, always tubbed up in the fridge, paired delisciously with any meal. Seriously.
And, as it happens to be, I was in luck when I married my husband, a tall dark and handsome Phillipino, with a last name that granted me permission to still belong among my peeps. And the food that came with the package...off the hook. Not to mention when 'mom' is cooking, that woman is the real deal. No messing around, and all secrets about her recipes. When I once thought beans and cheese, torts and chips, were the essential in every kitchen, I now add to my list rice and meat, garlic and soy.

weekly horoscope

This week will bring much rice and meat. It's time to get out the air matress and slumber party like it's 1999.

I love...

a good man who knows how to work on cars. it's hot.

promise to repeat

I got some organic local rhubarb from my sis in-law, and couldn't wait to bake it up. Just got done licking the bowl of warm, sticky remnants from strawberry rhubarb crisp and can't stop thinking about it. The flavor or rhubarb is intensely unique, but if prepared with the right touches, it can set off a seemingly normal dessert and make it divine. If just one person makes this recipe of mine, and enjoys strawberry and rhubarb like yin and yang, sticky and sweet, fully satisfied with every bite, then I'll know you know what I know! Get you some! and don't forget the ice cream, a la mode!
Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

STRAWBERRY AND RHUBARB FILLING
a handful of rhubarb stalks, diced into 1/2" pieces
an even bigger handful of fresh chopped strawberries
2 c. powdered sugar
2 tablespoons butter

in a saute pan, combine rhubarb, powdered sugar, and butter. On med. low heat get the rhubarb going, stiring in powdered sugar until dissolved and butter until melted. Let it get cooking until rhubarb is slightly tender and sweetened from cooking in sugar. If your rhubarb is super tart, add MORE SUGAR! don't be afraid. Rhubarb is extremely tart and unlikely tasty unless it's sweetned correctly. You'll know it's done when you can enjoy it with mild tartness with balanced sweetness, and the texture will be like a cooked carrot in soup. Add freshly diced strawberries, and there you have your crisp filling, ready to go.

CRISP TOPPING
1 stick of cold butter diced into small cubes
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. flour
dash salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

combine flour, brown sugar, and butter into large bowl. Using the 'cut in' method, combine. When you 'cut in' something into a batter, you are making the batter flaky and crumbly, in this case so you can sprinkle on the crisp topping. Using a fork and knife, cut up butter in the bowl with flour and brown sugar until there is only small chunks of butter left in batter, and it resembles a strusel or coffee cake topping. Add salt and vanilla and stir to combine.

put strawberry rhubarb filling into a pie pan or baking dish, sprinkle the top with crisp topping, and toss into a 400 degree oven. Bake for about 15 minutes, until crisp topping is golden brown and fruit is bubbling hot. Eat immediately. Pair with vanilla ice cream, and enjoy the temperature contrast of sweet, buttery hot fruit crisp, and cold smoothe cream. awwwwwwwwhhhh daaaang...

HOROSCOPE

Expect greatness today. Your sun will shine, cakes will rise, the music will be good.

call me old fashioned

I believe in the simplicity of marriage. It is not overrated, a ball and chain, or a statistic waiting to fail. It is one of the most amazing commitments to give to yourself. It is no longer the strangeness of 'highs' and 'lows', but as I always tell people who ask "how's married life?", a smoothe, content, ride. You sit in different seats, maybe today you drive and tomorrow you shotgun, but individually it creates that divine road trip.

The thing about my dad is...

He knows EVERYONE. He's the 'mayor' in his own right. He likes to talk to everyone about anything. Godfather of 'shooting the shit'. He likes to talk to us (the fam) on the phone at least once, maybe twice a day. Our heads share some strange radar, I know exactly when he's going to call right before he does. He's the coolest dork. Really. It's not that he's dorky, he's just cool, if it's like 1970. And these days the 70's are cool, so my dad is finally making his comeback! He has taught me that family ALWAYS comes first in life, then football. I hate football. I pretend it's cool to spend 12 hours a day watching it, but "Come on DAD!" - me when I was a little girl. He always has green chile, beans, and torts when I come over for dinner. (mmmmm...what I would give for some of that). He's my dad, and he hasn't called once today, wait a minute...I think that's the phone ringing now.

quite a contradiction

I'm so not into smoking. But, my neighbor just lit up and the smell of the first drag is actually one of my all time favs. It reminds me of my Grandpa who had is own special smoking room in the garage with a metal stool and a black and white TV. When we were kids, I have memories of walking past the garage door, going in and sitting down to talk with him. The smell of him lighting up a cigarette, with his big smile and huge ears is like home to me. Now my Grandpa is gone, but I get to see him every summer. There is a hummingbird that perches himself on the same branch every year and spies on me from our deck. I have always thought from the beginning that this bird is him, coming to check up on me, with a cigarette in his mouth, blowing me the first light.

thought of Thursday...

he's the man who brings me roses, when I ain't got none

what to do today...

I want to spread the 'art' of my 'art' through the community. Kids are hands down the number one student in the kitchen and I want to create the opportunity for them to learn and for me to teach. Let's see how I can make THIS happen...

"Your business should be an extension of yourself" - a very wise man indeed.

QUESTION OF THE MORNING

"Will you wipe my butt?"

QUESTION OF THE DAY

Haven't we met before?

Capri Sun and Ritz Bitz

When teaching a 4yr. old the game of baseball...
Chalk drawn bases. 6 strikes and you're out. Okay, 10 strikes. Just hit the ball.
When you're the pitcher, don't run the bases. When you're the batter, don't run after the ball.
He knows the 'spit ball', and now he's coined his own 'buger bat'.
Just getting him ready for the little leaques, when I get to bring team snack and sit in a lawn chair with my mom butt shorts and visor. It's going to be hot and he's going to be good.

tis the season

I love summertime in the mountains. The uber chill people (first time ever, using the word 'uber'). Guys with knoty pony tails. Girls with knoty pits (not me, of course). Carhartt's and Chaco's. Patagonia and Keen's. It inspires me to cuddle up in a meadow and eat berries and squirrel meat. Be all natural. Do yoga in a tree and drink miso paste.

I HEART CONAN

i miss camping farts

It's summertime. Camping season. The smell of morning dew, ashy clothes, fired meat, and the person sleeping in your tent who just farted that smells like they ate a cigar. Seriously gross, but all natural. It must be the altitude, it must have been that bottle of tequilla, it must have been those cheetos, it must have been the corn on the cob eating contest, it must be camping season. I can't wait.

the talk

My son is curious why girls have bigger boobs than boys. Good question. But the answer is obvious to all women who are mothers, because they are milk 'jugs', of course. My son asks me if I used to put the milk from my jugs into sippee cups for him, at this point he is semi embarrassed and extremely intrigued. I try not to laugh, because this is a serious, not embarrassing, real-life, talk I am having with him, and he should not look at women and thier racks any other way than to believe that they are here for sustainable purposes only. I feel great about the relationship we are forming. My son can come to me about anything, and I will give him an honest answer he can understand that will help him become a good man someday. Then he laughs and points at my chest, calls them jellies and asks if gatorade can come out of them...

quote of the day

Impress your friends by your person,
not a person by quantity of friends.

Blu Skies

My 4 yr. old son is at Grandpa's house for the week. Damn I miss him. I miss the way he annoys me in the car with his open ended questions. I miss the way he walks around holding my hand, like he's the one taking care of me. I miss the way when he's caught in the act doing something very very bad, he interrupts my dirty glare by just stating " I love you mom", works everytime. I miss the milk mustache that glues the cookie crumbs. I miss that he thinks that fruit snacks are a food group. I miss my partner in crime and it's only been 5 hours...truly pathetic and madly in love.

owning it

As the aspen trees unfold, people around me are no longer kernels but have popped into corn. When people are turning their reality into a dream. I say it this way because turning a dream in to reality is played. It's turning that reality into a dream that you live on a daily basis that gets my head playing melodic notes.
I am inspired and in awwh about the way people choose to live thier lives. You are born with one lump three feet above your ass, so get the job done and use it. Time is running out on how many things you will create in this lifetime, and you have all the time in the world to figure out what it is exactly you want to create.