the lost boys

My baby brother turned 26 today. He graduated from college a couple of weeks ago. He still doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. I just hope he ends up in Carlsbad.

Family
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Thomas, more commonly known as "Lord of the Flies", is seldom seen these days. Standing at the back door of my parents house, I call his name and he appears from seemingly nowhere, a sweaty dirty, mongrel boy. I hope these few weeks as a ferrel child stick in his brain like the memories I have of growing up in the Outback of Australia.

the things they carried

"And the boy loved the tree very much and the tree was happy." - Shel Silverstein

Boo Radley Necklace

What tiny treasures rattle around in the bottom of your jewelry box? In your travels, have you ever picked up a shell, a cool pop top, a skipping stone? Do you keep your children's teeth as they fall out?

I find that for most of my life I have been a bit of a squirrel. I gather and stash all sorts of tiny things. To me, they are like the crumbs of bread that Hanzel and Gretel dropped to find their way back home. My little treasures lead me mentally back through the years, back to my childhood. When I am old, I will gather up all my whatnots and create the most meaningful work of art. It's on my life list.



A friend of mine suggested I start making a few pieces of jewelry that weren't priced as high as the pieces I have been making. I think it was good advice. Here is a little necklace for only $15.

North Shore Necklace

Postcards from Shangri-La

The first thing you must do is imagine you are four years old again. Think back to when you had no worries or cares. Picture a time in your life when you could easily do a back bend or jump on a trampoline without peeing your pants or throwing you back out. Now, think, really think about what kind of a place would have been paradise to you at that age.

My son has found his heaven on earth.

Almost thirty years ago, my parents bought a sprawling piece of land from my great-grandmother. After she died, her part of the property was sold and my great-grandfather's shed was drug onto my parents land. Originally, their lot was dotted with peach, cherry and apricot trees, but they have slowly been replaced by more modern landscaping.

The trees that have stayed have grown large and strong. The oak leafs are as large as a man's hand. The walnut drops enough nuts to feed an army of squirrels. These towering oldies afford copious shade for the playground below.

Upon entering my parent's backyard, one is meet with a rock fountain that happily burbles and slops and acts as if it had a personality all it's own. The children are allowed to play freely in the water with no danger. It was designed for small people.

The apple tree down the way proudly bears the weight of the tree house and has graciously grown a perfect branch for a swing. A trampoline is placed nearby making the sour apples available to jumpers during the early season.

As if a child might become board with nothing to do in such a fanciful place, my mother has added an airplane teeter-totter and a large cement pad with unlimited amounts of sidewalk chalk and a menagerie of various bikes.

Nestled in the far right corner of the property are my father's birds. A few years ago, my father placed fourth in the world for his kit of Birmingham Roller Pigeons. You may be asking yourself, what are rolling pigeons, and who would want to raise pigeons, I thought they were kind of like flying rats? Don't. Just go with the fact that he is way into his birds and his enthusiasm has leached into the grandchildren so that participation in feeding time has become an honor.

We will be here in Shangri-La for two whole weeks. There will be lots of Popsicles and sweets, smuggled to the boy on the sly, before meals because my mother has transformed into an entirely strange woman, who indulges children with sugar and sits for hours to play and color with crayons while the wash needs to be done. There will be forts built out of old blankets, and serious meetings held inside addressing things like how many daddy long leg spiders live in the yard and the official rules to kick-the-can. There will be hamburgers and a cherry pit spit contest and fireworks.

I'll keep you posted.

and so it begins

Some years ago, before the rodent came along, I worked in a bookstore. At the time, it was my fantasy job. I had worked in the dental field (a.k.a. the depths of hell) while Ben was in school. It paid well, but left me with a deep wrinkle between my eyebrows and the bad habit of judging people by the state of their teeth. So when Ben FINALLY graduated, I got a job at a little independently owned bookstore.

It was a lovely little shop with dark wood and a fireplace. We were allowed to take home any book we liked and read it, as long as it came back in mint condition. I read like a mad women during those years.

When I read Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, I distinctly remember thinking, I really wish I had a group of good friends like that. The kind that you can poor out your sorrows to over a Diet Coke. The kind of friends you see so often, they notice if your blouse is new or you changed your eyeshadow. The Ya Ya's spent long summer days at the beach. Their children played and they chatted. In essence, their families grew up together. It's a good book, pick it up.

Funny thing, my life is turning out a little like the Ya Ya's. I have a great group of friends who I see all the time. Our children have formed their own gang with a structure of command so complex, it rivals Microsoft. Now that Summer vacation is in full swing, we go to the beach every Thursday, and some Mondays. We sit, we eat, we complain, we compare, we honestly tell each other that, yes, that makes you look fat, give it away. We are growing up together.

If you live in the area, and feel so inclined, stop by some Thursday. Grab a Diet Coke, slather the kids with SPF, sit back and tell us your woes. We are always interested in fresh problems to mule over.

how to pleasantly shock your children

Okay, you are going to need:

* a very busy day

* a crowded store

* children who are tired and hungry

* a bark collar for each child

Very funny, I know. But don't act like you haven't thought of it before.

Imagine the look on your child's face as they come to the breakfast table, hair askew, eyes still puffy and jammies rumpled, and you lovingly offer them a Popsicle for breakfast. I don't know how this will go over in your house, but let me tell ya, my boy nearly killed over in amazment.

Tovolo Popsicle Molds are available on Amazon. They have a variety of shapes available. The flower petal pops are soooo cute and girly, you must order some, if that's how your family rolls.

Around here, homemade Popsicles are the best thing since sliced bread. I blend up all kinds of goodness and freeze it into pops. The boy doesn't seem to care that they are yogurt/juice/berry pops instead of high fructose corn syrup/benzoate/sulphite. If it's frozen into the shape of a rocket, it could be asparagus flavor for all he cares. Well, asparagus might be stretching it a bit, he does, however, love to eat frozen peas, not unlike a little koi fish.

My next batch will be yogurt/berry/granola blend. A true breakfast treat. There are lots of recipes online and most of them are fairly healthy.

It feels sooo good sometimes to say yes, instead of no, not that, no, not for breakfast, no that will rot your teeth. So when the little rodent stumbles down the stairs for breakfast these days I say, sure Thom, you can have a Popsicle, would you like a cookie to go with it?

un grandes partido y diseño grandes domingo

Well the wedding came and went. It seemed sooo long and so short all at the same time. I somehow became (who am I kidding? I deemed myself) official snap shot taker. We left at 10:00 pm, after the toasts were made and the cake was cut, only because the boy had fallen fast asleep in our arms. He was covered in dirt from head to foot and plum tuckered out from hours of play. All I can say is, WOW, those Mexicans sure can throw a party.

Today is my 14th wedding anniversary. We really, really wanted to go to the Santa Fe Indian Market. It is a once a year event that brings in thousands of Native American artist. I was so excited to meet some of the artist that I have admired. But it was not to be, not for this year at least. We literally couldn't find a flight into Santa Fe on any airline that weekend. So, we are already planning for next year.

In the meantime, we are both talking about getting a Nora Bill bracelet. Which leads me into my pick for Design Sunday.

Nora Bill and her husband, Emerson, live near Santa Fe. The Bill family is very well known throughout the Southwest. Nora's style is very distinguishable. She uses very heavy gauge silver and a cold press technique to create her amazing bracelets. I am so bummed that we aren't able to go to the market this year. I am positive she would be there. I just want to stand in the corner of her studio for one afternoon and watch her work.

Maybe someday I'll just get in my car, drive to her house and knock on her door. Would that be weird? Oh well, I'm already known as "Señora Blanca Loca" (Crazy White Lady) in Rosa's family. Evidently they aren't accustomed to my paparazzi style of photo taking.

an empty room

Last night I was weak and foolish. I allowed myself to look at blogs that speculate about the wait for Chinese adoption. One site estimated that we should receive a referral for our daughter in June 2015.

I tiptoed through the dark up to my boy's room. I stood and listened to him breathing. I smelled his hair and held his hand. Then I walked down the hall to the empty room. The crib is still up from when Thom slept in it. The sheets are on the mattress. Pink clothes are hanging in the closet. We are waiting. It is hard.

rosa' ducha nupcial de s

I have this really good friend. She is from Oaxaca, Mexico. I met her when she knocked on my door looking for house cleaning jobs. She speaks very little English. I speak very little Spanish. I think it is a tribute to our friendship that it has transcended the language barrier.

She and her husband have decided to get married in the Catholic church. Yesterday, I threw her a bridal shower. It was a little strange not really knowing what everyone was chattering about, but I got the main gist of the jokes and we laughed a lot.


I choose to use the peony as my theme, because I love them, and they are in season, but also because in Chinese culture, they are the symbol of happiness and prosperity.

I knew I wouldn't be able to coordinate shower games, not speaking Spanish and all, so I decided to have them each scrapbook a page for a album I bought Rosa. I choose Anna Griffin's whimsical papers which have a nice wedding feel to them. They are pretty formal, but the girls broke out the glitter and stickers and in no time, the album was "mexicanized" with bright colors and sparkle. It turned out great.

prime real estate

A swanky little bird has taken up residence in my fuschia plant.

I have decided to call her Tessy Lou. A fussy name for a fussy fowl. Now I just have to figure out how to water my plant without getting the nest wet and cooling the eggs.

is this normal?

Thom and I were driving around town the other day. Our conversation went something like this:

"Mom, we have to go to Tammy's right now and get my Speed Racer cars okay?"

"Well, I don't think Tammy is home right now. Maybe we can go over later tonight. Right now we have to go home and start making dinner. Daddy will be home soon."

"I think Tammy is probably home, so let's go now."

"We will get your cars, but I'm not going until I call Tammy and make sure she is home. What do you want for dinner?"

"I really think she is home."

"Thom, Tammy likes to run errands in the day and she is gone a lot. I am quite sure she is gone."

"That's nonsense."

Pause

"Did you just say 'That's nonsense'?"

"Yes, that's nonsense."

"Umm, I think you better not talk until we get home, Smarty Pants."

Silence

"Mom, I want a milk shake for dinner."

Nonsense?

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