Memorial Day Weekend

May 26

I’ve had a lot on my plate, nothing out of the ordinary. Lately, these girls do the best job of making me slow down without even trying. Like, when I’m trying to catch up on bills or write month-late thank you cards and we decide to make art. Live it. Love it. Go with the flow.
Art Girls



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Happy Mother’s Day.

May 11

Hey mamas, it’s no use crying over spilled milk. This stuff is wacky, difficult, up and down. But it’s damn good. Soak up the amazing.

Spilled Milk Mother's Day_2013



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Happy New Year

Jan 01

I started a traditional reflective post last night, trying to conjure up the highlights and lowlights of 2012 before the ball dropped. But it just seemed like so much happened over the past year and I couldn’t articulate everything in quite the right way. Needless to say, my night was calm, quiet and uneventful. I played word games and watched Ryan Seacrest – enjoying a glass of cheap champagne for posterity. I thought today might bring a fresh perspective, but today is already coming to a close – a sure sign of another busy year. So I’ll leave with this visual delight – my girls having their very first “sled ride” today. It only lasted about 5 sweet minutes, but Audrey and Paige needed some fresh air.

First Sled Ride

Unhappy Sled Ride!

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Free Yourself.

Nov 12

I always find it unfortunate and a bit jarring when it takes a major storm or event to bring people, myself most humbly included, back down to earth. Life has only kept going and with it – the earth spinning. But this space has grown quiet for far too long minus a few bits of random thought firings. And as busy as I am, trying to beat that alarm and pour my next cup of coffee, perhaps my next glass of wine, other things are slowing down. I’m losing someone really dear to me. I’ve always been a writer, never short on words and thoughts, a serial over-sharer. Yet, these types of posts remain a bit cryptic by nature. Still, I suppose I’ve felt the need for a bit of blood-letting so here we are, shambles.
Let’s do it old school. Bullets? Anyone?

1. Getting back to the barn and riding weekly has proven (as I both feared and prayed) to be a saving grace for my sanity. What a breath of fresh air. I can’t wait to start showing again. Adrenaline. Air. Large mammals. Pretty posture. Jumping.

2. My little girls just had their 18 month check-up. They are strong as ever, and only 19 pounds each. So precious and full of fire.

3. I’ve steered away from being particularly self reflective for the past, I don’t know, year or so? It’s happening again, and I’m choosing (today) to ride it out and let it just be. If you’re here, I figure…you fell in love with it, so, right.

4. Thinking about going from platinum to ginger this week…no big deal.

5. I hate when people ask me what I “do”. It’s getting a bit too fuzzy. Seriously, how do women answer that question? (I wanted to write “women of my caliber” but realized that would read only one way – PRETENTIOUS. But there, see what I did? I guess we’ve just killed two birds?)

6. I absolutely love MRIs. I spent 2 hours in an MRI machine recently and it was the most blissful 2 hours of my recent history. Apparently, such response is atypical. My sports medicine specialist thinks I’m pretty fly.

7. Work has provided me the “luxury” of an iPhone 5. It’s scary, and I like it.

8. I still eat oatmeal every single day, just in case you were wondering (hey, I said we were going old school here with the blogging…)

9. I still am on an old vine Zinfandel kick with seasonal beers tossed in between.

10. Being wordy is exhausting. I live for it. Sometimes they take it, sometimes they leave it. Seems like it matters most when it’s GONE.

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Coffee in the morning, Guinness in the evening.

Jul 30

Dark beverages. They provide a fair contrast to my brave attempts at a bright appearance these days. Many brick walls stand before me. Some hours I stand at them defiantly, carefully chipping away pieces with my fingertips. I have no tools made of wood or steel. Only small hands, big ideas and that ever-tenacious will to build WINDOWS. My best hours are in the morning. Early morning.

But suddenly, it’s July 30th. My twins are 15 months old, I wear more hats than I’d ever planned (and I planned for MANY), and my morning routine feels somewhat uprooted. Where is that missing piece?
I’ve got my eye on the prize.
Tearing down walls is what I plan to do.
Until I can make enough windows, enough light,
to create the calm.

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