interview

B: Well, hello, Mr. Squirrel. You are a mister, right?

S: {slight twitch}

B: Yes, I could tell. You know you are the first interview that I have done on my blog! Welcome, and thank you for joining me.

S: {clicking} (how does he do that?)

B: I remembered you from several weeks ago. You made quite an impression on our car-load of people. It had been a hard morning and I was grumpy from trying to get everyone out the door on time and I was scowling and the children were sulking in their seats. But after we saw you, we were all laughing for the rest of the car ride. What was your morning like?

S: squeak, squeek…squeek.

B: Mm hmmm. Had you been having trouble with the acorn all morning?

S: *nose wiggle*

B: I was wondering how the acorn escaped your grasp.

S: squeak, squeak. *running in circles*

B: Does that happen very often?

S: {staring}

B: Mmm. Well, that was quite a steep hill, so I’m sure the acorn got rolling really fast. You were about half way down the hill when we came upon you and it was such an unusual sight for us to witness a squirrel in pursuit of a runaway acorn.

Oh, there he goes. He’s a fast little bugger. I was just about to ask him if he actually caught up to the acorn before another car came upon the scene. It will have to wait until next time.

And there you have it! The first interview here on Whatever & Stuff.

Happy Sunday afternoon, friends!

embracing the light

Carmel, California

In the past few weeks I have been able to see the gift I have been given more clearly. I have been stretching on my tippie-toes to see the horizon and the beauty that is there. It can be easy to get all caught up in how hard *life* can be, but lately I have been able to see the good that comes from the opposition.

These children are in my keeping; for both of our goods.
They have and will continue to teach me.
They make me stretch myself into a better and stronger me.
Their strength is astounding.
Their wisdom is simple, but sure.
Their beauty radiates, especially when I focus on it.
They have helped me observe my habits and it’s as if I can see myself in a mirror, the good and the bad together.

I love being a mother. I am smitten with my children.

***

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

-Khalil Gibran

Sunday Scribblings {New Year}

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
-Nelson Mandela


This year I will not be afraid. I will live like I am powerful and full of light. Like I am brilliant and like I am brimming with glory, about to overflow with magnificence. I will be one with God’s will. I will be less selfish and find the joy in serving others more fully.

Except when I don’t. And then I will stand up and dust myself off and try again.

Sunday Scribblings {Misspent Youth}

The first thing I thought of when I read this prompt is the fact that when I was a teenager, I was deeply offended by my parents. They didn’t always trust me. To me that was so unfair and judgmental. I was good! I wasn’t drinking, smoking or doing drugs… How dare they make me feel like I shouldn’t be trusted?

Looking back, I realize now that they didn’t trust me because I wasn’t trust worthy. Silly me. I was so busy defending my trust worthiness that I forgot to recognize that someone who says one thing and does another, well, they can’t be trusted.

I felt like I understood that their rules were for my protection. But I knew myself better and I was the exception to the rule, so I made my own set of rules. I spent a lot of time lying, trying not to get caught being trustworthy of my own rules. Lying about riding in cars with boys, going on dates, sneaking out at night…

Sorry mom and dad, you were right. I wasn’t trustworthy. Funny how that works—no matter how offended you get that someone doesn’t trust you, it doesn’t make you trustworthy.

Sunday Scribblings {Left & Right}

Dear Left Brained Friend,

I wanted you to know that I appreciate you. You keep things going. Without you, things in this world would be much different. The only problem is, that you are so very organized and at the ready that you have been put in charge of the way things are run…like every time. So, I have to live in a left brained world. For most part, I have adjusted to your rules and regulations without complaint. I can see the usefulness and order. How can that be bad, I muse?

So I am writing to make a request of you. Please try to be more understanding of your right brained friends. We have many wonderful contributions, and if I were more like you, I would have a long and complete list of them right now to give you a thorough glimpse of our significant additions to society and every-day life. But I may just give you this list as an assignment since it would likely give you pleasure—perhaps if you alphabetize it, or color code it, or make a chart that categorizes the many improvements made to society by those of us who are right brained. I only suggest this at the thought that it would help you next time you’re expecting one of your right brained friends to be fully prepared, or to plan ahead, or to make a commitment. I realize that it gets on your nerves a bit that we have not adapted more absolutely to your way of living, but it does go two ways. I am merely here to gently persuade you to give back to your loyal friends: maybe to show us a little love you could do something spontaneous, or hold your tongue when you witness our messy desks. {Note: I’m not asking you to make a mess, which would be going to far, just merely to understand that our mess was not made to intentionally bother you.}

Thank you for your understanding,

Your Right Brained Friend

Sunday Scribblings

Jake grew up in a lobster/clamming community with the best fried clams on the North Shore a mile down the street and lobster men selling lobster from their houses like pie stands on the side of the road. When he had earned a couple bucks, he would hop on his bike after school and ride down the street and buy himself a live lobster and ride home again and steam that baby up and have himself a nice after-school treat.



Here, you can see his technique is still the same. Less is more (my kind of man). Here we are with Brooke and David over the summer enjoying a late-night lobster treat around the kitchen table.

Sunday Scribblings {Powerful}

Last week at Sunday Scribblings they posed the question: When in your life did you feel the most powerful? I read the prompt and then got busy and didn’t have time to write about it. Monday came and I thought maybe I’ll post it a little late…never happened (happens a lot lately). Because of traveling bloggers, there is no prompt this week, so I’m going to take the opportunity to write about last week’s promt.

As soon as I read that sentence, “When in your life did you feel the most powerful,” I knew the answer immediately, which surprized me since I had never contemplated it before.

I felt powerful as soon as I began to grasp, then understand, then know the concept that I am divine; that my soul is made from two parts: the body and the spirit.

I know that might sound simplistic or strange that something like that could make me feel powerful, but let me try to explain what it means to me. If I am made of two halves, and one of them is my spirit, then I am half divine, meaning God himself created my spirit. I am {half} offspring of GOD. What kind of potential does that give me? Unlimited.

Are you grasping that? Unlimited potential! That’s pretty powerful. I have within me the power to help others, to be forgiving, to gain infinate knowledge, to love boundlessly, to understand things that have no explanation, to have pure, simple faith that allows me to have a relationship with God, my Father through prayer and to communicate with Him spirit to spirit. I have the power to gain and improve talents indefinately, to become better in all my relationships—mother, wife, sister, daughter…I have the power to see beauty and know who to thank, to know where to go when I have a question and understand how to receive an answer. I have the potential to understand that I am not the only person who has this astounding piece within me; I can look around me and see the wieghty signifigance of each person and feel the strength of their power, or feel the sadness of loss when they can’t see their worth.

If the other half is human and we are taught that the natural man is an enemy to God, then, of course I have an inward battle. My potential depends on my behavior. That’s huge, but if I make my spirit the stronger half of my soul, then my potential is beyond my comprehension. That’s a powerful motivation, a powerful concept, powerful knowledge to posess.

Sunday Scribblings {Town and Country}

When I was in high school I would have described myself as a city girl. My cousins even called us “city slickers” at one point which always made me chuckle. But now there’s no denying my country bumpkin ways. I’ve quite embraced the country life. I can’t get enough of the trees and grass and gardening. How pleasant that my three-year-old took a little nap on the hammock the other day with nothing around but a couple cats, a nice breeze and the sound of the birds. I prefer fresh squeezed lemonade rather than running to the local lemonade-selling-type-store (see? I don’t even know where city folk buy their lemonade!). Water, ice, lemons and sugar. When the blueberries are in season, then I add a little homemade blueberry syrup. How yummy is that?




You have to admit that it is rather nice to have a cake made from scratch with little flowers from the yard to add the finishing touch…or is it just the bumpkin in me?



more Sunday scribblings here

edited to add the recipe:
*decoder at the bottom

Chocolate Cake
1 3/4 c. flour
2 c. sugar
3/4 c. cocoa powder
2 t. baking soda
1 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
2 eggs
1 c. hot chocolate
1 c. sour milk**
1/2 c. oil
1 t. vanilla

mix dry together. stir in liquids. beat til mixed thoroughly--will be thin. pour into greased and floured pans. bake at 350 for about 45 minutes. (when touched it should bounce back when it's done)

Chocolate Butter Cream Frosting

6 T. butter
2 2/3 c. powdered sugar
1/2 c. cocoa powder
1/3 c. milk
1 t. vanilla

beat butter, blend in sugar and cocoa alternately with milk until smooth. add vanilla

*t=teaspoon
T=tablespoon
c=cup

**when a recipe calls for sour milk or buttermilk, I usually add around a tablespoon of vinegar to the milk, give it a little stir, and let it sit for a few minutes, then it's ready to add in.

I always double this recipe--I'm big on three layer cakes. Make sure to leave at least 1/2" empty in your cake pans or they'll drip and use the leftover batter to make some cup cakes.

Sunday Scribblings {Wings}

This morning my littlest tiny girl came down the stairs and when she saw me her face lit up and she said, "I had a dream that I grew wings in my back and flew into the dark sky!" I repeated her, just to make sure that I had heard right, and she took a deep breath and shook her head vigorously, "yeah!" she yelled with a huge smile on her sleepy-eyed face.


sunday scribblings

Sunday Scribblings {In The Kitchen}

When we were ready to put an offer on the house we live in now, I was telling my mom about it and she said, “What’s the view from the kitchen sink window? …You’re going to be spending a lot of time there…”

Oh, how right she was. I have spent hours upon countless hours chopping, dicing and sautéing; sweeping and serving and wiping; watching children spin and chase and fall. I have come to know the changing of the seasons by the way the sun angles in through the windows rather than the pages on the calendar. I know which windows to open to enjoy the maximum amount of fresh air, and cross breezes; which month the Miss Kim blossoms, the lilac smell permeating the room making me swoon. I have started to place my flowers strategically in the garden, planning on how it will look from the inside looking out, rather than from the road passing by. My kitchen gets dirtied the fastest and most often of any other room in the house and cleaned multiple times daily. The dishes go in and out of the cupboards, the food rotates through its endless cycles, the days move from one to the next at a dizzying pace, and the kitchen is the setting of it all.

I love my kitchen. It is full of sunlight and love. Its’ floor is made from wide pine boards that are 200 years old. Someone has been preparing food, entertaining, sustaining life, and watching growth within its walls that whole time. Lucky for me, I’m that person today.

More Sunday Scribblings here.

Inspiration

I'm combining Sunday Scribblings {Inspiration} (yes, a little late.) and Self Portrait Challenge {online tools}.

The thing about inspiration is that if you don't act on it, then nothing comes from it...well, except for that good feeling which accompanies it. The other thing that I've noticed is that it comes more often when I'm already working at something so I'm already open to it.

Here are a few of the many things that inspire me (in no particular order, and leaving many things out):

• nature
• brainstorming
• good music
• prayer
• good photography
• details
• the smell of paint, graphite and adhesive of any kind
• nostalgia
• Nephi
• athletes
• working in the yard
• other peoples' examples
• lots of the blogs I read
• poetry
• sunshine
• so much more.....

Sunday Scribblings: Crush

When I was in third grade, I had a crush on Craig. (I was tempted for a moment to put his last name, but I’ve learned my lesson.) I used to stare at him with dreamy eyes and take in his blonde hair and clear blue eyes. When our pictures arrived from picture day, we made an exchange, and he gave me one of the large ones. I knew I had him then. When I say I “had him” I mean to say that he had a crush on me, too, for in third grade I didn’t communicate well, and there was no smooching to be had. So dreamy stares and silly giggles were what consumed me.

Then one day I heard that Craig held Courtney’s hand. My crushy world was shattered. Luckily for me, there was Whitney Houston on the radio singing “All At Once.” I still can remember how those lyrics touched my 8 year old heart.

All at once
I looked around and found that you were with another love
In someone else's arms,
And all my dreams were shattered, all at once
All at once
The smile that used to greet me brightened someone else's day
She took your smile away
And left me with just memories, all at once


Oh, Whitney, how you helped me through the hard times. I’ll always be grateful for your depth and wisdom. My tears were shed in the company of your vibrato. My mourning was made complete through your melody. My heart healed while your mouth formed the words of my soul.

I would go on to have crush after never ending crush. I was a professional crusher. I had multiple crushes going on at all times. It sometimes was hard to keep track. There were the celebrity boys, but they were separate from the real boys, and let me tell you, real boys were everywhere. I remember one night coming home from bungee jumping and practically freezing to death, I held the hands of two friends under a blanket in the back seat of a car, unbeknownst to either of them…until the next day—I’m sure, when they were telling each other how they each had stolen kisses with me. Luckily I don’t have to keep track any more. I like love better than loving a crush.

go here for more on crushes.

Sunday Scribblings

#1: Hey, let’s go on a hike. I love hikes.

Me: Me too. Hey, I have an idea—let’s have a hike day! How about: every Friday is Hike Day.

#1: Good idea.

{six weeks later, give or take}

#1: Hey, whatever happened to Hike Day?! I want to go on a hike!

Me: Oh, yeah! I forgot about that. Okay, let me put it on the calendar right now…

{please see results below}

Sunday Scribblings: Destination {Health}

My throat hurts. I am in a bad mood. I have been taking care of sick people for a month straight and have avoided catching it the whole time. I have one child in grade school, one in preschool and one in the nursery at church. Do you understand what this means? Let me tell you…….

One drink at the drinking fountain can do us in for a month! One child sucking on the plastic food, pretending to eat a germ-covered French fry, can just about make us bed ridden. One energy-filled little boy, chasing another can end up getting coughed on, and there you have it—the sickies are spread. If you haven’t picked up on the picture I’m trying to paint in my overwhelmed, white-blood-cell-driven state, then let me just tell you: I am only one person. I can’t be with three different people every second of the day, and I wouldn’t want to, either. There are a million ways for germs to spread, and in my house, that pretty much makes it three million. So I ask you, how can we avoid it? One person gets something, and then the whole house is weakened. With the immune system down, another [healthy] child brings home some kind of germ and the weakened child gets it. Next thing I know, I am living surround sound cough attacks. After weeks of coughing, hacking, phlegm everywhere, boxes of used tissues, wiping off puke from sweaty faces, holding shaking bodies, reducing 103 temperatures, trips to the doctor and pharmacy, pneumonia, being awakened in the night countless times for a myriad of reasons and non-stop fighting between the youngest two, and I am about to lose it.

So here I sit on New Year’s Eve, frustrated as I type with all the coughing shorties behind me watching Over the Hedge (and still fighting) and wonder if we should quarantine ourselves until our systems are strong again. I wonder when that will be. Hopefully it’s before they put me in the loony bin.

sunday scribblings

Sunday Scribblings: Anticipation {When Will the Joy Come?}

Me: You have been soooooo helpful! What a good boy you are being. Thank you so much! …You must really want Santa to come.

Little Guy: No, I want joy to come!

Me: {melting} well, it worked! I feel joy! I’m so glad you’re mine.

Little Guy: {snuggling in} Tell me about the thing with the line again…

Me: Well, if I had every little boy in the whole world all in a big line, and I could only choose one, I would look them all over and talk to all of them, and in the end I would choose you, ‘cause you’re my very favorite one.

Sunday Scribblings: In the last hour...

in the last hour

there is still warmth
to be found

there is still enough light
to see beauty

there is still enough time
to give thanks

http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/

I don't want to be a passenger in my own life.

(a pep talk for myself)


Sit down.

Just put your hands on the wheel.

You know where you want to go—just
put your foot on the gas
and steer.

It’s no longer enough to watch out the window
and sing the songs

hum the tune.

There is beauty in watching;
in being carefree—
along for the ride.

But there is also
beauty
in taking control;

being in the driver’s seat.

Soon,
the feeling will become natural
and you will start to
compose your destination;

To command the wheel
while enjoying the ride.

Sunday Scribblings

Sunday Scribblings: If I Could Stop Time...

The first thing I thought of (who knows why) when I read this prompt is when Joshua prays for more time to fight in his war and God stops the sun and the moon in the sky and the day is lengthened so that the Amorites are conquered.

If I could stop time, it most certainly would not be for fighting. It would be for a million moments of peace. First, I would start by catching up on my sleep, but without missing the wonderful moments at night when you finish all the little things and relax and walk outside to look at the sky; and without missing the early morning hours when no one else is awake and the sun is beginning to rise and the time is yours alone. Then after I felt well rested, I would stop time every time I felt inspired; every time I saw a beautiful sight, whether in nature or to stop and study the ones I love. I would stop time and sit with paints and a canvas and capture the fleeting moments. I would want to stop time during the precious moments so I could sear them into my memory.

There have been a million times I have wanted to do this. One time in particular, I was in the Denver airport, and I had to say goodbye to my mom and my sisters. We took the train to my terminal and as it pulled up, I suddenly realized that my time with them was over and I had to say goodbye in one moment and hop off before the doors closed on me. As I turned to look at them they were all smiling and waving through the glass and I took my hands as if I were holding a camera and snapped a “picture” as they were pulling away. It somehow worked. I have that “photograph” seared in my brain

Sunday Scribblings: Skin

If you peel away the armor is something underneath
If you look below for hidden treasure
underneath another layer
Are you hiding underneath the skin
If you peel away the skin is there anybody there
If you peel away the armor
is it too late to begin
Is there anybody hiding
if you peel away the skin
Now a spark has passed between us now
A momentary recognition
Something lost and something gained
And something shared that feels strange
Something cold that will not go away
There's a heart as cold as ice
In a vault that's made of stone
Over years the walls got higher
Over years the walls have grown
Is there anybody in there
in this self inflicted tomb
If you peel away the layers
is there someone in this room
If you peel away the skin
if you peel away the skin

Skin by Oingo Boingo

Many years ago I took a ride with my cousin in his cool car. He put on Oingo Boingo and I was enamored. I felt so old and mature. (What a laugh, looking back!) I went home and bought the album. These lyrics belong to that girl who rode in that car. What a deep concept for a naïve girl. As I walked through the halls of my little high school, I thought about each person I passed and wondered who they were underneath it all. I considered the possibility that I too am hiding out behind my own skin.

Over the years I have remained cognizant of the times I am hiding beneath my skin and not letting my whole self show. I have tried to get to know others in the same way. Some people are definitely more willing to share their soul, while others prefer hiding behind anything physical, whether it is their skin or their possessions. It is always hard for me to be patient with the latter (even if it’s me).



I do believe that there is indeed something underneath the skin. I’ve always been a big believer in the doctrine of the Soul—the spirit and the body combine to make a soul. Recognition does pass between souls; I have felt it. You can communicate spirit to spirit; I have done it. There is communication with God and answers to prayer; I have received it.

more scribblings here

Sunday Scribblings

Well, we have colds again. Usually #1 gets it first and then spreads it around to the rest of us. Her immune system seems pretty fragile. So, I googled it, and here is what I found:

There is no evidence that you can get a cold from exposure to cold weather or from getting chilled or overheated. Research does suggest, however, that psychological stress and allergies that affect your nose or throat may have an impact on your chances of catching a cold. (I found this interesting, since #1 feels stressed a lot, and I’ve been wondering if she has allergies like me.)

The germs are spread through the droplets that come from sneezing and coughing and ending up on desks, doorknobs, light switches, keyboards and your mouse—pretty much anything that has a surface that we touch regularly. The germs can live on these surfaces for up to 2 to 3 hours. If you come into contact with these germs and then touch your eyes, nose or mouth before we wash your hands, then whamo! You’ve been infected.

So, the suggested practice is to cover your mouth and nose when sneezing or coughing, and wash your hands regularly. Those alcohol-based products made for washing your hand without water work too.

more google magic here.