Thanksgiving Eve

Busy all day and then made the mistake of going to the grocery store to do last minute shopping, something my mom and I always did, although it was usually Thanksgiving morning. She drove me crazy, but I miss her, on days like these especially.

The World Outside My Window

The sky this morning in Colorado. Too beautiful for words.

No hurt survives for long without our help, she said and then she kissed me and sent me out to play again for the rest of my life.

So Much to Write

I have so much to write about and can't seem to get the motivation to do so. Snow days have allowed me to get a lot done, but they weren't things on my original to-do list, so while I did get a few things checked off, I still feel as though there is so much left to do.

Also am very confused about a couple things that happened in the last couple of weeks, don't know how to handle it, don't even know what or how to think about it. Am I worried about things that I needn't be? Or instead, that I shouldn't be? Or, most especially, don't exist? I guess only time will tell. And then, if it is something I need to be worried about, do I even care, or is it just another example the usual bullshit? Again, only time will tell.

Having a nice time with the boys these days. Sometimes the fore-mentioned crap brings families closer together, at least at the core of it, which means the four of us.

Now that Beck is in full-fledged kindergarten, he's blossoming as a brainiac. Even Frank can't get over how smart he seems. He's spelling up a storm, non-stop, every minute, writing like a fiend. His (hand) writing is very controlled, Frank said last night that he didn't write that well until second or third grade. He wants to read, write and draw every minute. He also seems to have some innate artistic ability. It will be interesting to see how he develops.

Frank is doing well. I didn't get a chance to read it, but right after we got home from New York, he wrote his essay about Ellis Island. Last time I got a chance to look at it, it was five pages long. He wrote up until the very last minute he had to leave for school (the two-hour snow delay really helped). I think Frank is going to be a strong and creative writer. I'd like to see him write on his blog more, but I'd like to see me write on my blog more too, so there you have it.

Frank has realized things in the last couple of weeks, as has Doug, and they're making good decisions based on their realizations. It's amazing sometimes how a slap in the face can really wake someone up. Like the scene in Moonstruck where Cher slaps Nicolas Cage across the face and says, "Snap out of it!" Yep, just like that.

Decided to open the wine bar up for dinner six nights a week, that on the heels of deciding to develop a dinner menu for the wine bar (those damn snow days!). We had three tables last night and haven't even announced being open on Mondays yet, and didn't have the staff there to cover it. BUT, Ryan handled it, as he always does. He's a great and valuable employee. AND, if we ever decided to have stand-up comedy at the wine bar (we won't), he'd be great at that too.

I'm supposed to be putting Halloween decorations away right now so I'd better get at it. Laundry to fold, lunches to make for school, life beckons . . .

I promise you not a moment will be lost. As long as I have heart and voice to speak we will walk together with a thousand others and a thousand more and on and on—until there is no one among us who does not know the truth: there is no future without love.

Doug is sick. So sick he can't talk. Bad cold. We haven't really left the house in the last two days, which has been nice. Yesterday I did nothing more than lay around. Around 6:00pm I had to run down to the wine bar to show the staff how to change the fuse in the cooler, which had blown. Ten minutes later I was back home, back in my pjs and back under the covers. It was bliss.

Today I did about the same. The boys and I ran to Walmart this morning, and Kohl's, Blockbuster and the Art Market, we were gone a total of one hour. It was good to get out of the house and then good to get back into the house.

I watched a movie, a whole movie, and guiltily thought about what I wasn't getting done through most of it. Then I made a pot of half-caf/half-decaf coffee and got to it. I've finished three fairly big marketing projects, done ten loads of laundry, baked cookies and put a rack of lamb in the oven. Crazy as it sounds, I'd like to get a lot more done tonight so tomorrow I can relax a bit, not have that non-stop gnawing feeling that there is so much to do. Although with me, there's always so much to do that feeling is rarely dispelled.

It is cold here in Monument, really cold. I think last year I wrote about the winter storm we get in October and how it is a good thing because it reminds me to get the hats and gloves, boots and jackets out of storage and into operation. I feel the same this year, I don't mind the cold weather at all, in fact, this weekend, it meant I got to relax and lay low a lot more than I probably would have had it been sunny and warm.

We're off to New York in a couple of weeks, it still feels so far away. Again, so much to do before we go. So many commitments to honor, projects to finish, classes to teach, work to do.

If there is any secret to this life I live, this is it: the sound of what cannot be seen sings within everything that can. And there is nothing more to it than that.

Wow. So true.

The more virtuous any man is, the less easily does he suspect others to be vicious.
- Cicero

Not Writing

It isn’t that I have writer’s block, I just haven’t had time to write. Here it is 10:34 and I don’t have time to write, still so much to do tonight before I rest.

But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

“How can you be sure it has a soul?” he said. “You can’t,” I said, “unless you’ve got one yourself.”

Trip to California

My trip to California was in a word—quick. I flew in on Saturday morning and went straight to see Bud. It feels so funny not to write Bud and Ginny, but just Bud. He is doing okay, bed-ridden but his wit is sharp as ever.

I stayed with Bud for awhile and then met up with CJ in the afternoon. Later than evening I had dinner with Chris and June. It was so nice to have time to just catch up with both of them.

Sunday morning I was up and out early for breakfast with Joe. Again, it was so nice to catch up with him. We spent three hours chatting, walking along the beach, hanging out. We both commented on what good friends we are and how no matter how much time goes by, it seems as though none has.

I had to hurry back to Chris' (where I was staying) because Marie was arriving any minute. Again, being with Marie was like no time had passed whatsoever. She went with me to see Bud, which was great. I think he was disappointed that we were leaving but it was on to meet CJ. A couple hours with CJ, but more catching up with Marie and then on to dinner with Bonnie, Elaine and CJ. Marie joined us and then left to make it home before it got dark.

Funny thing is, although we've both grown up, gotten married, had kids, lived our lives, 35 years later the bottom line is, we're both still the same people we were when we met at nine years of age. I love her so much and am so glad that we've been able to stay friends, albeit sometimes out of touch ones, this long.

We went to the Quiet Woman in Corona del Mar for dinner and surprise, Sean was there. Another person I've been friends with for over twenty years. It was so great to catch up with him as well.

It was great to see friends, great to spend time with Bud, great to realize once again that I am so glad we left Southern California. While I miss everyone I got to see last weekend so much, I do not miss the lifestyle in California one little bit. Not one.

Both John, Chris' husband and Elaine asked me if I was happy, three years later, that we made the move when we did, or that we made the move at all. I answered, "If I had a vision of what our lives would be in Colorado in my head before we moved here, it is, in fact, at least one hundred times better than that." Quite a powerful statement, but true. Business could be MUCH better, but as far as lifestyle goes for our family, the friends we've met, and even the businesses we're in--one hundred times better than Southern California.

Blessed Friends

Just about every day something happens that makes me purposefully think about how thankful I am for my friends. Today is no different. Yesterday I heard from five different friends throughout the day, about getting together when I’m in California this weekend. All are understanding about the purpose of my visit and willing to work around whatever and however much time I end up spending with Bud and Ginny. They are changing their schedules, driving long distances and being completely flexible in order to set aside some time that we can see each other.

Today I heard from yet another I will see while I’m there. It means so much, this effort my friends are putting forth in order to get together and touch base.

Also today I heard from two friends here, one just checking in to say hello and trying to arrange time that he and his wife can get together with Doug and I. As soon as I told him why I was going to California this weekend, his response was to let them know what works AFTER I get back and not worry about anything other than Bud and Ginny for the time being.

AND, another friend has recently referred some new business to me. She is forever bending over backwards to do whatever she can to help us, whether it is at the wine bar, or with the marketing business, picking up things she thinks I might like at the farmer’s market, or just being a friend, sounding board—she even offered to go to California with me if I needed the support.

Believe it or not, that isn’t all of it. Today I had lunch with the neighborhood ladies. There is a group that meets for birthdays every month there are birthdays to celebrate. I set aside an hour and a half for this lunch today and of course, was with them for almost three hours. They are such a wonderful bunch of women. When I was talking about the dilemma Doug and I faced Monday morning and both boys having to be at two different schools, seven miles apart at the exact same time, and me not getting back from California until later that morning—FIVE of the six offered to provide one of the rides, the sixth doesn’t drive or I’m SURE she would have volunteered to help as well. Another friend had already offered to pitch in to help last week, so we were covered already, but how nice it was of them to offer. One of them reminded me, “All of us are retired Heather, we don’t have anything to do (ha, ha), so we’d be happy to take the boys to school.” How nice and thoughtful and considerate and kind.

We are blessed, so blessed by the friends we have. So blessed.

Beckett's First Day of School

Beckett started school today. He was so excited. No tears or holding onto Mom, just anxious for me to go so he could get on with his day.

For a long time there were only your footprints and laughter in our dreams and even from such small things, we knew we could not wait to love you forever.

This is how I felt about both of my boys before they were born. Frank is a fifth grader; so grown-up and such a nice young man. I am so proud of both of them.

Bud and Ginny

Bud and Ginny are two of the most important people in the world to me, and while I haven't been as good about seeing them as I should have been, I've tried my best to keep in touch with them through the years. They never met Beckett, but did, at least, meet Frank. I call them once every six months just to check in, and talked to them yesterday.

Neither are in good health, in fact, Ginny asked me to come and see them, and to hurry. The earliest I can get there is August 15. But I am going. I can only stay two nights, it's just too hard to be away from the boys during the school year.

I've been writing about them both so much lately, and realize what an important and significant role they played in my childhood. It is likely neither will live through the year, so I will go and see them and tell them how very much I love them.

Today's Quote

If only I possessed this vision . . .

I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
Michelangelo

I’m writing a book. I don’t know where it’s going to go story-wise, but I see it in much the same way. I wish I could see it and set it free. I suppose it will come as it is supposed to.

I’ve wanted to write a book for years. There is a book in me. At least one. Biggest stumbling block: where to start.

So I started. It started with a short story, that happened to pass over the desk of someone (a friend) in the publishing world (I used to design and edit books in my life before the art market and wine bar), who then emailed me and asked me to flush it out a bit and send her what I came up with. That was months ago and I didn’t really expect to hear anything more of it. I know the publishing world and 100 million books and stories are submitted every year, okay so I’m exaggerating, but A LOT are submitted and NOTHING comes of 98 percent of them.

Surprisingly, I heard from her—this week—and she “encouraged” me to turn it into an outline and submit it (the outline), not as the story, but as a book.

I took the short story, added more of a beginning and voila, I figured out where to start. Age eleven. Lots of stuff happened in my life before that, which I suppose is why I want to write a book, and given I am forty-six, clearly lots of stuff has happened since.

You Just Never Know

I'm really bad at good-byes. I suck at them. I hate them. I remember every summer, when I was living with my mother but spending summers with my grandparents, having to say good-bye to them and how hard it was. Whenever I had to go back to California, I missed them so much.

Two of my earliest memories are of the day my mother and I left for California. I was five. I had not known anything other than living with my grandparents and that kind of safety and security. I felt as though I was being ripped away from everything I knew and loved. Pretty insightful for a five year old given that was exactly what was happening.

I remember quite a lot from that time, probably because overall it was so traumatic. I remember the day I was playing outside, drawing with chalk on the sidewalk and I looked up to see a car that looked exactly like my grandparents' car. I remember getting up and running toward it, literally screaming, "Oma!" The woman sitting in the passenger seat of the car, probably terrified of this wild child running toward her, rolled the window up. I still remember the pain of it, thinking my beloved grandmother was there, and then realizing it wasn't her at all. As I write about it, I can feel it all over again.

I eventually went back to live with my grandparents full-time, when I was eleven; six miserable, horrible years later. In the meantime, I had spent summers with them, and every time I had to say good-bye was like reliving that day when I was five years old all over again.

I remember, with regret, every time I drive to DIA, the last time I saw my mother and how distant we were that day, what a hard time it was for both us. I never would have dreamed that would be the last time I saw her.

Almost without fail every time the boys and I part, we hug, kiss, tell each other we love each other. Tonight I did not. I was in a hurry, they were downstairs, I didn't even say good-bye. I regret that. If, God forbid, something happens to any of us while we're apart, I want the last thing we've said to one another to be "I love you."

I remember when my grandmother was so sick that my mother and grandfather thought I should go to California to live with my mother again. I didn't know how I felt, but seeing my grandmother in so much pain day in, day out, was more than I could handle at sixteen, so I went along with what they thought was best. I don't remember the last time I saw her. I don't remember. I don't know how that is possible. I don't remember. I don't remember.

I was very active in church at the time, in a youth group, and a "folk" choir, that many of my closest friends belonged to as well. That last night, before I moved back to California, I sang a solo called, "Lord Watch Between." I still remember every word.

Lord watch between
You and me
For the time we're apart
Turn our eyes and our hearts
Toward the future

While we're away
May he bless you
And keep you safe within his love

May he lift his face
Grant you his grace
That you find comfort
In this place

Lord, watch between
You and me
For the time we're apart
Turn our eyes and our hearts
Toward the future

Things I Need to Write About . . .

but don't have time to right now. So I'll write this instead to remind me to write about this:

1. Wednesday's Concert in the Park
2. Something Beckett did yesterday, that I can't remember right now, but by the time I write again, he'll have done something else I can write about.
3. Ditto for Frank
4. Three years ago today (July 10), Frank, Beckett, Alina and I got in the car at 3108 Sumatra Place and drove away. We didn't stop (well we did STOP occasionally), until we got to Colorado Springs.

And actually, that I'll write about right now. Doug was already in Colorado Springs, he had been for two months. In those two months I packed the house and prepared for our move, while working two jobs and having sporadic help from nannies who worked for us and then didn't and then came back and then left again.

The morning of July 10 the movers arrived to take all of our belongings and put them into a moving van. I remember that before they got there I took our video camera and walked through each room, talking to Doug the whole time, telling him what I remembered about each room, about my memories of our first home as husband and wife, the first home both of our children knew. I cried and cried, wishing he was with me to say good-bye to our home. Doug and I watched that video when I got to Colorado Springs and we both cried then.

It is so unbelievably hard to fathom that we've been here three years already. And it is astounding the life we have built for ourselves in that time. It seems as if it has been at least ten.

Tonight I am at Second Street Art Market and Wine Bar. It is full. We have a piano now, and there is a guy playing tonight. He is great, absolutely perfect for this place. Customers starting coming in around 4:30 and the place has been full ever since. Regulars have been in, who I've had an opportunity to chat with and new folks who haven't been in before and have come in tonight too. It is a great night for it.

I'm happy through my tears.

Where's the Groove?

I can’t seem to find a groove to get back into. Okay, we’ve only been home thirty-two hours, so perhaps I’m pushing myself a little too hard.

Worked today, but didn’t get half done what I wanted to get done and know that whenever I come out of this fog, I’ll realize I have a thousand things to do and will wonder what in the hell I was thinking by not getting it all done.

Frank leaves for Eagle Lake this coming Sunday and will be gone until Friday. It’s his second year at summer camp but it’s still hard for me to let him go. I’ll worry every day. Last year I could go online and look at photos of him, and while they were a day or two old, at least I could see he was alive. I’m not really as worried as I make it sound, it’s just hard to let my babies go.

When we were on vacation there was a moment when I pictured them in my mind three or four years from now, wondering what our family vacations would be like then. Probably more trying, unless we figure out the “groove” of a vacation that they both enjoy. We’re such a unit, the four of us, and even though there are times when they are serious rascals, the reality is they fight far less than most siblings do, of that I’m sure, as I have been in the company of other families whose kids fight ten times (or more) more than our’s do.

Lightning storm, better sign off and shut down now.

July 5

We are home from our first family summer vacation this year. Since Friday, I got really sick and thought we would head home on Saturday. After being up most of the night and sick most of the morning, we left Hot Springs, South Dakota around 11 or 12, I really can't remember. By the time we hit the Colorado border, which meant we not only went through South Dakota, but Wyoming too, I was feeling better. Thankfully.

It was raining almost the entire way but we decided to check out the Greeley Stampede anyway. It was fairly sunny when we arrived, found a (free) parking place right near the entrance and went in. It was around 3:30 and we found out at the information booth that the fireworks were scheduled for 10pm after the concert.

The boys rode several rides, Beckett went on a roller coaster and I thought that would be his last ride of the day. He screamed to get off the entire time and almost killed himself getting off (before the ride came to a complete stop). He braved up and went back to the rides he was comfortable with before the rain started.

We found a (beer) tent to wait out the storm, which didn't seem as though it was going to ever stop. We decided to get tickets for the concert, since that would kill two birds with one stone. First, we'd have something to do until 10pm and second, we'd get out of the rain.

The concert was a lot of fun, Bucky Covington opened for Blake Shelton. We made it through about half of Blake's show before the boys had had enough and wanted to wait for the fireworks back at the car. Given Blake's show didn't start until 10, we had a long wait for the fireworks. Finally around 11:15 they went off and it was a great show.

Getting close to midnight, we still didn't know where we were staying but saw a row of hotels that looked promising. The first we stopped at had a room and in fifteen minutes or less we were all in bed and probably close to asleep.

When we woke up this morning Beckett thought it was great fun that we all slept in our "clothes" or lack there of instead of dragging in the bags, finding jammies, etc. We are so infrequently spontaneous, it was a refreshing change.

We took the back roads home from Greeley and were all anxious to go and pick up Ballou who was equally anxious to get in the suburban and come home.

It was a long week, but great to have undivided and uninterrupted family time. We have another family vacation planned at the beginning of August during which we plan to go to Pennsylvania and see Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle John and Aunt Julie and Frank and Beck's cousins, including the newest member of the family, Ally's son. It's hard to think about another vacation before I've finished the laundry from this one, but we are all looking forward to it.

Uncle Jeff called and he and Doug talked about going to New York for Uncle Andy's wedding in October. We'll see if we can make that one happen or not.

Tomorrow I plan to dig in at the wine bar with fresh eyes, the new staff needs a TON of training on wine, which we'll dive into right away.

Is it Friday Already?

I cannot believe today is Friday; I keep double-checking to be sure since it doesn't seem possible.

Wednesday we visited Mt. Rushmore first thing in the morning and it was amazing. The visitor's center is so informative and well put together. We watched a short narrative about how the project came to be along with the processes, etc. It was breathtaking to sit and ponder.

From there we traveled through the backroads of the Black Hills over to the Crazy Horse monument; equally breathtaking and awe-inspiring, and massive. We were scheduled to go up closer and perhaps go out on the arm, however, the threat of lightening canceled all such plans.

We spent a great deal of time in the visitor's center, cultural center, artist studio and home. The boys spent their entire saved allowances, plus more money from mom, on the artwork for sale by Native Americans in the cultural center.

On our way back to the car, Doug told me to look up to see the bald eagle circling over my head. It was a beautiful sight. Prior to this trip, I don't believe I have ever seen an eagle in the wild. Doug repeatedly tells me I have, but I can say I have not ever seen a BALD eagle. And the other eagles he says I've seen, I wasn't one hundred percent certain of.

Now there is no question. I have seen at least two on this trip and many golden eagles as well. It was one of those things I wanted to do, or see, before I die, so another thing to cross of the list.

After leaving Crazy Horse, we traveled once again through the back roads toward Mt. Rushmore. Doug had read about another place to view Mt. Rushmore from the top of Iron Mountain Road. It was an amazing drive through the forest with corkscrew turns like none he or I have ever seen before. Along the way there are several single-lane tunnels and beautiful old bridges. We found the two viewing areas Doug read about and decided against trying to make our way up this highway to view the July 3rd fireworks as it is treacherous enough in daylight, far too dangerous at night.

From there we made our way back to the hotel so the boys could play once again in the waterpark before dinner.

Yesterday we decided to leave Rapid City a day early and head instead to Hot Springs ahead of schedule. We called and were able to make the changes we wanted to and headed out for the day.

We drove past Mt. Rushmore a final time to Lake Sylvan, where we stopped for a few hours of hiking and relaxation. Lake Sylvan is a beautiful spot and a highlight of the trip as a whole.

Our next stop was Custer, one of the more gentrified towns we have visited on this trip. Our guess is the wealthier visitors to Sturgis each summer actually stay, and shop, in Custer. There were several lovely cafes and galleries to wander through.

The last stop for the day was Hot Springs, where we are spending two nights. The River Rock Resort and Spa is a lovely place to stay. The staff appears to wear many hats, from checking us in, to booking the spa package, playing the piano in the lobby and waiting on us at dinner.

We went out exploring the town late yesterday afternoon and got the boys an early supper. Doug and I took a little nap while the boys watched cartoons and then went downstairs for dinner.

The restaurant downstairs is the Blue Vervain, one that moved from Manitou Springs up here a year ago. We knew of the Blue Vervain, but hadn't had an opportunity to eat there before it closed and thus were quite delighted to learn of the relocation. We trusted the boys to behave and let them know we were simply downstairs if they needed us.

Doug and I have not had a quiet romantic dinner in months and we enjoyed the time immensely. We ordered a bottle of wine and took our time, talking with the waiter/piano player/front desk clerk about wine and food. Dinner was as perfectly prepared as I anticipated it would be and was such a treat. I started with a shrimp ceviche and Doug had a thai gazpacho which he said was much too spicy for me to even think about trying. I had seared scallops as an entree and Doug had a thai peanut salad. Both outstanding. We decided to be bold and try the chocolate beet torte with beet sorbet for dessert. Far too eclectic for us to serve at the wine bar, but a fun experiment for us to try for ourselves. It was unique, particularly the sorbet, good but only for a bite or two, then too overpowering.

I slept so soundly last night.

This morning the boys were up EARLY in anticipation of their visit to the Evans Plunge. Doug is spending the day there with them followed by a visit to the Mammoth dig site. We found a local bakery/cafe for breakfast and then parted ways for the day.

This morning I had a massage followed by a raindrop therapy treatment during which nine essential oils were "dropped" on my spine and feet and then rubbed into my muscles. I smell like an herb store, but feel amazing.

This afternoon I have a facial scheduled along with visits to the dry sauna, sand and granite rooms. The sand room is a warm room where sand covers the floor topped with cloth. Large pillows are scattered throughout the room and you simply lay on the floor as you would at the beach. VERY relaxing. The granite room is similar, with a warm floor on which you lay and relax. Two things I've never seen before, but find interesting, and of course, relaxing.

My two hour break is the perfect length to update the blog, do some reading and perhaps take a nap.

We haven't yet decided where we will spend the fourth. It doesn't really matter to me, anywhere we find on the way home is fine. July 4th was my grandmother's birthday. It was always such a fun day when I was growing up, often the day we had our annual family reunion.

Hence, anyplace we are other than Ostrander Road always seems foreign to me, so each year is simply a new experience and not one where we try to create any traditions necessarily. Often we don't see fireworks at all, so it isn't something the boys are disappointed about.

One year, Doug took me to Vancouver and Victoria over the fourth. We always laugh about him asking what kind of events were planned for the holiday and the hotel clerk reminding him we were in Canada.

Summer Vacation–Day One, Two and Three

After a very long day and night on Saturday, we left for our trip on Sunday with relative ease. The preparation for the trip marked a turning point in our family, most of the packing was done, finis, all I was responsible for packing was my stuff.

Our plan was to leave by 9am and we left ahead of schedule. Our first stop was the Ft. Collins Brewfest, which started at 11am. We were in before the crowds, tasted a couple of beers each and the boys hung out and cooperated.

Next stop was Cheyenne, Wyoming. Given it was Sunday, downtown Cheyenne was deserted. It reminded us of Butte, Montana, only without the toxic-looking pools of water scattered throughout town. We had lunch and kept going.

We intended to stop in Lusk, but got there so far ahead of schedule, we kept going. The next town, one hour up the road, was Newcastle. We drove around HOPING we could find a place to stay since the next town, Sundance, was still an hour more away. Driving through town we saw a sign for the Pine Motel, which promised to be secluded and quiet. True to every word, we found a lovely motel, out of the way, off the beaten path, to spend our first night.

The owner of the motel sent us to the Pizza Barn for dinner, which was fine, pretty awful, but fine for a late dinner with two hungry kids.

Monday morning our goal was to explore Devils Tower. We stopped in Sundance for breakfast. The little woman who waited on us, told us she raised thirteen children. She was as sweet as could be when out in the dining area, but swore like a sailor the minute she got into the kitchen. The kitchen was not very far away from the dining room and we could hear every word. It was hysterical. Then she'd come back out with the sweetest little smile on her face. My guess was she was not only a great-grandmother, but likely great-great too.

We arrived at Devils Tower early enough that it was not too hot for the mile and a half trek around it. Beck and Dad tried to complete the junior ranger booklet, although we didn't see any squirrels (unusual I thought), or deer (not so unusual with all the people around). Frank and I talked about how Devils Tower was the first national monument and I explained the importance of National Parks to him. Teddy Roosevelt has long been my favorite president, for that very reason. What a gift he gave to future generations by realizing the importance of protecting our national treasures, like Devils Tower.

From there we made our way to Spearfish and then Spearfish Canyon, extraordinarily beautiful. Frank got carsick, the only damper on the amazing drive.

We drove into Deadwood late afternoon and settled on the Franklin Hotel for the night. After a buffet dinner, because Deadwood is a town full of casinos and buffets are the only dinners there are, the boys took a break in the room while I played slot machines for a little over two hours on a hundred bucks. I went back to the room with $60, so for a couple of hours, that wasn't too bad.

This morning we started with an hour-long tour of Deadwood, where we learned a lot more about the history of it, Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane. It was a very informative tour well run and put together.

From there we went to Sturgis. Sturgis, outside of rally week, makes Cheyenne look like New York City on New Year's Eve. Most of the shops are closed, or empty. There are signs in almost every window with a phone number to call for "vendor spots." Evidently the landlords make all their money in one week but dividing up their storefronts into multi-vendor stalls. Even after looking at photos, I cannot imagine what it must be like. Mardi Gras in New Orleans (or Jazzfest), carnival in Rio? Whatever it is, is far too much for me to imagine or want to experience.

We hit Rapid City earlier than expected but were able to check in to our hotel, which features an indoor waterpark. The boys were in HEAVEN and swam and played for a couple of hours.

Always on the lookout for local breweries, Doug was able to find one in historic downtown Rapid City where we had dinner. We promised the boys another swim before bedtime and now are hoping they will soon wind down and sleep.

Tomorrow on deck is Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse, Custer and Sylvan Lake. It sounds like a lot to do in a day, but Doug feels confident we can fit it all in. Since he is so much better at planning this stuff than I am, I won't doubt him.

Frank's Birthday

Frank celebrated his tenth birthday yesterday. It was a quiet day, which we all needed. He wanted kraft mac n cheese for dinner, not a problem, we have Costco-style multipacks and which will take us years to go through. Then we had cake, gifts, and a quiet night.

Today, different story. Doug picked the boys up at 4:00 and we made our way down to Artsports, a warehouse filled with all sorts of trampolines, pits of foam and gymnastic mats. Frank had eight friends join him and they are now all spending the night.

Frank had a sleepover party two years ago, with many of the same characters. I've known most of them for three years and it has been fun watching them grow up.

We took two cars down to Artsports so we could bring all the kids home with us for the sleepover. Out of the bunch, Reese and Beau (and Andrew and John) rode home with Beck and me. I love Reese and Beau. They're the "bad" boys. And they were two of Frank's first sleepover pals. They don't scare me. They're actually both really great kids, and they're not really bad boys at all. They're funny and clever (and polite too), you just know by looking at them that they will be a handful as they get older.

Reese sat in the front seat and Beau sat behind him. We opened the sunroof and all the windows in the car on the ride home. We turned up the music as loud as we (I) could stand it, and rocked out (that's probably an archaic term to them), all the way home. I, evidently, have cool taste in music.

It was a good escape from some pain in my life. I've had a friendship come to an end and it breaks my heart. It's for the best, but it breaks my heart nonetheless. It will be hard to come to terms with and it will take time, but it truly is for the best.

And, as it goes with doors opening and closing . . . another dear friend called me today, unexpectedly. I was talking with someone yesterday and said of this friend, "You know, if we moved, or didn't have a business in Monument, or if the circumstances of our lives changed, I'm not certain we would stay in touch." Oddly enough, this friend called and in a nutshell told me how important I was to him and how he considered me his "sister." The only other person I have that kind of relationship with is CJ, and it is something that means an awful lot to me. I was touched beyond words, I don't have any siblings, and it is nice to know that I have friends who care about me in this way and vice versa.

What a gift that telephone conversation was. It reminded me that while some friendships end, others don't. And even when you are trying to push someone away, or distance yourself, you remain important enough in their life for them to make the effort to let you know it.

I know it can't always be that way. I will miss my other friend so much, but we are simply not meant to be friends.

First Concert Tonight

The first concert in the park is tonight. The weather looks beautiful, hope it lasts through the end of the day.

Weekend Update

So much to write about from this past weekend, or week. So much work to do too. BUT, in a strange twist of priorities, I'm going to go get some exercise FIRST this morning and write later. Hmmm, what a good idea.

Bored

. . . and tired. Didn’t get home from Art Hop until 10:30 last night and didn’t go to sleep until after midnight (texting, ugh, how did this start?), yet woke up at 5am. Did I say tired already? Have all good intentions but no energy to do any of it. Feel like I’ve gone 20 miles in the marathon and am dropping out. So close but no energy to finish.

And I suppose a little depressed too. Looks more and more like it will rain tomorrow. So much work has gone into this event, and there is now a 40 percent chance of rain, in the morning, when the chalk walk is supposed to take place.

Feel like I’m forever getting close to the finish line, with everything, and just not making it. Probably shouldn’t be writing now.

Lunch today with neighborhood ladies. I am the youngest of all of them by almost half, so it should be no surprise that we’re having lunch at 11am. They are fun though and I will spend much of the time laughing. All, or almost all, wives of Air Force officers (as much of our community is as a whole), they can be a raunchy group, particularly the birthday girl, who I believe is turning 80. She SHOCKS me, often, with the stuff she says. And another, Jeanne, reminds me so much of my Aunt Dorothy its uncanny. I should go look through the photo albums and see if I can find a picture of her. Jeanne is always asking me. Although they do look alike, it is her personality and sense of humor that reminds me of my Aunt Dorothy the most. I don’t see these women enough, these women who make me laugh and laugh. I don’t see anyone enough.

Art Hop last night: 300+ people in last night. Talked to a third, or said hello rather. Talked to five. Okay, maybe more than five, but definitely didn’t feel like talking to 300. Not very gracious I guess.

Time to go do something physical and try to energize myself through endorphins.

An aside: Ballou is on the bed behind me snoring up a storm, and dreaming. He must be dreaming he’s chasing a squirrel, his favorite pastime.

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

—Berthold Auerbach

I'm just realizing right now . . .

. . . what a big week this is. Yes, it’s Wednesday, but my life, normally hectic and unmanageable by most people’s standards, is doubly-so these days.

It occurred to me TODAY, that tomorrow is Art Hop (not that big of surprise, and I’m ready for it), Saturday is the Finally Summer Soul-stice event (again, I’m ready for it), and Sunday is Father’s Day (I’m ready for that too, just have to get a card), but what I forgot (temporarily) is that Sunday night we’re going to see Stevie Winwood and Eric Clapton at the Pepsi Center.

Frank has chosen his Grandma Claudia to be the “friend” he’s taking to the concert and she is beside herself excited. In the midst of not realizing all this was happening in the next four days, I somehow managed to remember to get a sitter for Beckett on Sunday night, and get a sitter for both boys for tomorrow night. I feel like I’m having random OBEs and that is when I’m accomplishing this stuff, almost unbeknownst to me.

I feel like that a lot lately, like I’m not necessarily present in what is going on around me. And to a certain extent that is to be expected. I’m disconnected and probably won’t reconnect until sometime later this summer.

I heard from Donna at the Air Force Academy that the wine class I taught was so popular they want to do it once a month, starting in August. In addition there is another class they want me to teach. She’s just hoping I don’t get overwhelmed. Ummmm, I’m pretty sure I live in a constant state of overwhelmed.

A couple of days ago a friend and her son were helping me move some stuff at the gallery, in preparation for Art Hop. She, the friend, kept stopping me from moving anything and she and her son would jump in and do it. I said, “Luke is going to think I’m lazy.” She stopped moving whatever she was moving, put her hand on her hip and said, “There isn’t ANYONE in the Town of Monument who thinks YOU are lazy.” Okay, well that’s good.

I got an interesting email from another friend today about OBEs. The subject line was, “Powerful Evidence of Consciousness After Death.” I have to think, a lot, about the content of his email before I go any further in sharing it. But suffice to say, I’m going to take some time to purposefully contemplate the content.

I’m really looking forward to our trip at the end of the month. I’ve never been to Mt. Rushmore and neither has Doug, so this will be a first that all four of us will share as a family. I’m as much or more excited about just hanging out with the boys and relaxing.

Just drifted off . . .

. . . when I got a text from CJ (forgot to turn my phone off) asking if I was still awake. He told me he and Janel are expecting another baby. Life. There isn't ever a good time, but there isn't ever a bad time either.

I remember when I realized I was pregnant with Beckett. Life had been pretty hectic and I was on a whirlwind of work. Doug, Frank and I headed to Pennsylvania for a vacation that included going to my beloved Canada Lake. While we were at Doug's parents house, I started feeling really nauseous, but only in the morning, didn't want any coffee, and a couple of mornings got up, and then proceeded to go back to bed and go back to sleep. And that is something I NEVER do. Doug thought I was simply sick, but I always felt better after I ate. Leaving Frank with Grandma and Grandpa, Doug and I made our way to the drug store, and sure enough, I was pregnant.

We left the next day for Canada Lake, where I spent a lot of time during the next week sitting on the dock alone, looking out at Nick Stoner Island, thinking about this new baby that was inside me. I was certain it was a girl, and started talking to "her," immediately. Turns out she was a he, and now Beckett is five. Amazing.

Canada Lake is my special place, the place I go in my head when I don't want to think about whatever it is that is plaguing me. I'm anxious to go back again. It's important that Doug and the boys remember that Canada Lake is where I want to spend the end of my days.

A Really Tough One

Wow. This is a hard one. I don’t even know what to think let alone what to say. The local newspaper just published a front page story about the upcoming Summer Soul-stice event taking place in Monument this Saturday. This event is our (Doug and my) baby. We, along with Woody and Cathy Woodworth, thought of it. Doug and I have worked on this event tirelessly for the last few weeks, to the point where we both have neglected other things we needed to take care.

Doug and I aren’t the kind of people who need recognition for the work we do. We do it, selfishly, for the good of our business. The merchants, for the most part, are great about acknowledging how hard we work and thanking us for the good we have done for the merchants and the town.

So the tough part, we are the only participating business NOT listed in the article. The only one. And that is hard to take but harder to react to. I don’t know how to react. At all. I don’t know what to say, if anything at all, or who to say it to.

Honestly, I just want to cry and I don’t really understand that reaction. I thought I might feel better if I wrote about it, so far I don’t. Maybe I’ll feel better about it tomorrow.

WITW (What in the World)

As opposed to WTF . . . it seems as though every other day either Frank or Beck are sick, throwing up sick. I guess the last time was Thursday, so that really isn't every other day, but close enough. Now Frank is sick. Perhaps it was all the junk food he ate at the baseball game yesterday. Or, may not. What is going on?

Monday Morning

Another beautiful day has dawned in Monument. The sun is shining without a cloud in the sky. I don’t work much on Mondays, in fact, I almost never schedule any kind of appointment on Monday because it is a day I don’t want to HAVE to do anything.

The wine bar is closed Monday nights, but the gallery is open during the day on Monday. I rarely even set foot in it. Today is different; we have a relatively new employee working on her own today, so I will have to go in to let her in, make sure she feels comfortable on her own, and then might be able to head out. Later this afternoon I have to go back to set up for Art Hop, which may prove to be a long night; one I hope I have the energy for.

This is a big week. Art Hop is this Thursday and we should be ready for it. Saturday is Monument’s first Finally Summer Soul-stice Celebration. Could be a big deal, provided the weather is good. There are several components to it including live music, a Chalk Walk, hayrides, etc. To find out more, click here.

Frank is off this week, no camps or activities scheduled, which I don’t think is a good thing. Doug has a lot of work to do and I think Frank will just be bored. We’ll see.

End of Baseball for this Year

Today is a beautiful day here in Monument; it’s perfectly sunny without a cloud in the sky, everything is green and beautiful from the recent rains and all the flowers are in bloom. Driving around town, there are fields full of wildflowers, so beautiful it takes my breath away. We are slated to go to a Sky Sox game this afternoon with the Tri-Lakes Little League. Yesterday was Frank’s last game of the season and they bearly finished before the thunderstorm set in. They had a party at the local pizza place that I did not attend but Doug, Frank and Beckett did.

Frank finished baseball camp at the Air Force Academy on Friday and that, in constrast to this year’s little league team, was a fantastic experience. He learned so much, got tremendous positive feedback and his self confidence soared. It is a shame they only offer one week a year for his age group. I’m sure that is all they can handle as if they offered more, it would probably be very overwhelming.

Beckett continues to LOVE summer camp. I don’t remember what next week’s theme is, but it doesn’t matter. He has LOTS of fun and the change of scenery from preschool has been so good for him. He starts kindergarten this August, although he asked me last night why there was homework in school and he wasn’t “ever, ever, ever, ever . . . “ planning to do it. Okay.

He just asked me if I can make him eggs for breakfast this morning, and since it isn’t a day that we’re in any hurry, I said that yes I could. He did a little dance around the room in celebration. I guess I’d better sign off and get those eggs started.

Why Am I Still Awake?

Wasn’t it just a couple of hours ago that I wrote I was exhausted? And yet I’m still awake. My friend Deanne is leaving tomorrow for ten days or something and then will be gone most of the month of July. And I’m sad.

There just aren’t that many people who I miss. In fact, I can count the people I “miss” on one hand. I will miss her.

I don’t like saying good-bye, and while she’ll be back in really just a few days, today we said good-bye. I suck at good-byes, always have. And then there are the good-byes that you don’t realize will be the last. And those are the hardest.

Okay, gotta go to bed.

Doug is watching a movie in the other room and periodically I hear him laugh. It’s such a nice sound.

Shelby

I just realized today is my goddaughter’s birthday. Thank goodness I posted something on the blog tonight or I might not have realized what the date today was. Happy birthday sweetie. I love you and miss you so much.

Finding Old Friends

If I think about where my week has gone I just might cry. It cannot possibly be the dreaded Friday tomorrow already. And yes, as opposed to every other person on the planet, I dread Fridays. (But I LOVE Sundays and Mondays, I know—really weird, if you knew me, or know me, you understand.)

Too tired to really write much tonight, and probably too emotional too, but here goes anyway.

I cannot say I’m a big fan of Facebook; it’s fine and that’s as good as it gets with me. However, a couple of really great things have come of my being on Facebook. One is, after all these years, I now know that my first love is still alive and seemingly happy (which makes me happy because, after all, I did love him), I’ve gotten to see photos of the children of some of my best friends from childhood and my cousins, which I probably wouldn’t have been able to otherwise. I also, and this is terrible to say, now know that we ALL have aged (not just me), and some better than others. (I’m obviously not a reunion-goer.)

Additionally, and this is the best part, although as I think about it, it has nothing to do with Facebook. I’ve reconnected with one of my very best friends in the whole world. Marie and I met in fourth grade, and I can still remember the day, where we met, and what she looked like then. Even though both of us moved a lot, we stayed close friends through high school. In our early twenties she got married and we fell out of touch for awhile. We reconnected a few years later and remained in touch and saw each other a couple of times. She surprised me and came to my bridal shower with her daughter, and that meant so much to me. Shortly after Doug and I got married, so maybe eight or nine years ago, we lost touch again. Through one of the classmate sites, we’ve reconnected again.

I emailed and she responded a couple of times and now it is my turn. The best part is, as it always is with true friends, I feel as though no time has passed whatsoever in terms of how easy it is to communicate with her. And it makes me feel SO good that she signs her emails, “Love, Marie.” There just isn’t a better feeling in the world than knowing someone who is so important to you, feels the same way about you. I do love her, in the way that you love those people who were your “very best friends.” Only now that we’re back in touch do I realize how much I missed her.

In the last couple of years she lost her dad and I lost my mom. Another thing we share, another thing we don’t have to talk about, both of us know the pain of the loss and empathize with one another. I knew her parents well when we were growing up and vice versa. Her children are grown, mine are still growing, but we’re both moms, so that too, we both get. Instead of writing here, I should be writing to her, so I’ll sign off now and do just that.

Cholesterol Queen

Total cholesterol is 109
LDL is 95
HDL is 60

I am the queen of cholesterol. At least there is SOMETHING in my body working right.

Wow.

Doug and I just finished up the last plans for our trip at the end of the month. For the last week he’s been telling me that he needed to talk to me about where we were going to stay the last night or two nights. Actually I think he’s been telling me that he needs to book the last night or two nights and needs my help. To which, in my mind, I say to myself, why does he need my help, he always does this on his own. Can’t he just handle this? And then I go on, which I won’t go into now but it has something to do with, I do everything, he doesn’t.

Okay, so today I finally consented to talk to him about booking the last couple of nights. Low and behold, it is because we’re going to the hot springs and he wanted to talk to me about what kind of spa services I want to enjoy for the two days we’re there (while he’s out gallivanting and climbing rocks with the boys). So now I feel like a complete bitch, but the good news is, we have the two nights booked, I’m spending two days in the spa, and Doug has two gold stars.

Cowboys

I love ’em.

I knew I’d marry an artist. Well, that isn’t true. After I married an artist, I thought to myself, if I hadn’t married a painter, I probably would’ve married a musician. Doug isn’t just a painter though, he’s the most creative person I know, which is probably more to the point of why I was attracted to him in the first place.

BUT, I have to say, that if there is such a thing as a next life, I hope Doug comes back as a cowboy.

Insight

So glad I exited the dating scene years (and years) ago. Still, I found the book (years ago) and now the movie, He’s Just Not That Into You, terribly insightful.

It should be a handbook that all girls are given when they enter the age of dating. So much angst and humiliation could be spared young women if this were mandatory reading. The laws of common sense, in all aspects of their lives should, and would then, be the core curriculum; the benefit of which would know no bounds. And then, it should be mandatory reading once a year, for the majority of the rest of their lives.

Storypeople

It took me a long time, she said, to stop confusing safety with love.

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friendship.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Pitter, Patter. . .

. . . Pitter, patter . . . Beck just ran through the bedroom (to go potty). I will miss that sound. Once they’re ten, they don’t pitter patter anymore.

AND . . .

I want some chocolate, dammit.

Argh

Why do you only hear from some people when they need something? It is a pattern that drives me crazy. Friends who I ONLY hear from when they need something. Or perhaps I should change that sentence to PEOPLE who I ONLY hear from when they need something. Because I don’t think they’re really friends, are they? There’s never that check-in to see how you’re doing, for no particularly good reason, just to say hello. It’s always just . . . I haven’t talked to you in (insert days, weeks or months, sometimes years), but this is what I need or want from you. And if it falls in the DAYS category, the last time you have heard from them was days ago when they needed something ELSE.

And BTW, I DO email or call people just to see how they are doing, because I simply thought of them. Often. And I am one of the busiest people I know.

Um, I think I’m grouchy and should just go to bed. And perhaps take a tranquilizer (or ten). (Just kidding.) (About the tranquilizers.)

Very Tired.

Now Frank is sick. God, please do not let me get it. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as bad as Beck was, but sick nonetheless. So tired. Had to leave work today to come home and rest. Rested and exercised, which then made me feel better. Ran an errand with Deanne which then made me tired again.

The staff isn’t getting along tonight, and I really shouldn’t use the word staff, Aga and Jenn aren’t getting along and they need to right now.

Beckett loves being a summer camp kid. No naps, lots of fun, today was his first real field trip ever, they went to a Sky Sox game (how fun!!). When I picked him up today he said two things. The first was that he really should’ve worn a belt today (he just lost so much weight his pants are loose now and I didn’t notice when he was getting dressed or I would’ve tighted the adjustment-thingy). The other thing he said was, “I don’t leally [really] like children’s choice Mom.” Yes, I know, they make you take naps. He’s over it.

Keep getting texts and emails but not from the people I want to hear from. Should just turn it off. There’s so much more I want to write but simply don’t have the energy.

Four of My Favorite Things

That somehow played a role in my life today . . .

1. Kneipp Eucalyptus Herbal Bath
2. Dick and Sue (okay so technically, counted individually, they would make FIVE of my favorite things rather than four), who came into the wine bar tonight.
3. “Absence makes the heart grow fungus.” Favorite line from a song and so true.
4. “She has a certain je ne sais quoi.” Overheard today, one of the best french idioms.

Stop the Rain Mom

Beckett is not a morning person. There is usually something he feels as though he has to whine or cry about just about every morning. It only lasts for a couple of minutes and then it is over. Today is his first day at “summer camp,” and he is very excited about it.

I’m not feeling very well this morning so Beckett came in and I was still in bed. He looked out the window and saw it was raining (doesn’t bode well for a fun day at summer camp). He looks over at me and says, “M-o-o-om, remember? I told you to make it stop raining.”

Moms are magic, it’s true, but even moms can’t stop the rain.

Big Week

Lots going on this week, starting at 7:00am, so about to get out of the house. Probably won't be posting a lot this week. More later.

Definitely a Family

I’m trying to get a little perspective on Doug and Frank (and Ballou) coming home today and it being okay when they come in the house and make a huge gigantic dirty mess. I mean really, would I rather have a clean house or a family?

One More Day

Doug and Frank will be home tomorrow. They are in Bailey tonight and will take their time getting home. Frank said this afternoon, “Um Mom, why can’t we come home?” I told him they COULD come home but that Beckett was still very sick and I was hoping that he and Daddy wouldn’t get it too. That satisfied him.

Interestingly, Doug didn’t say a whole lot when I was actually talking to him, but once Frank got on the phone, Doug kept telling him things to tell me. One was that Frank caught a BIG fish today, over a foot long. And then I heard Doug say something, and Frank said, “Dad says he was skunked and I won, whatever that means.” Too funny.

Frank also said the place they were staying tonight was “really weird.” I told him one of the best parts of life as far as I was concerned was remembering those “really weird” places we’ve stayed and remembering to always laugh about how funny it was. I told him to write down everything he saw and thought and we’d write a wild story about it together when he gets home. He thought that was a great idea and immediately wanted to get off the phone to go find all the weirdness he could. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Frank became a writer? Or loved it as much as I do?

Beckett is Still Sick

Beckett is still unable to keep any food down and in the last couple of hours, isn’t able to keep liquids down either. He doesn’t have much of a fever, 99.6 at last reading. If he isn’t significantly better by tomorrow morning, we will visit the doctor again. Probably foolishly, he and I took a bath a little earlier. I just felt the need to take care of my little boy who looks skinnier and skinnier by the minute. I’m doing my best to get pedialyte in him, but he is so stubborn and insists he doesn’t like it.

I’ve gotten him to suck on a popsicle, which was met with a resounding, “YES,” as if I had just given him such fantastic gift. I’m hoping that works and he at least is able to keep down what fluids that provides.

I feel powerless and am stricken by an inability to get anything else done. Laundry has sat in the washer and dryer all day and it occurs to me every couple of hours that I should go and do something about it; but I am unable to motivate myself to do anything other than sit with Beck.

Thursday, Day Whatever

Since I don’t know when Doug and Frank are coming home, I don’t know what day this is in my countdown, or whatever. Beckett is doing a little better; not keeping too much food down, but seems to be holding his liquids okay. His energy level is very low, but at least we ruled out appendicitis.

Morgan watched him this morning so I could go to the doctor. Had a couple back-to-back meetings at the store. Now home for the rest of the day, must be some kind of record for a Thursday.

Today was a very, very good day for meetings, stuff that has been on the back burner moved to the front and is now actually almost finished. Jenn is the greatest employee someone could ever ask for, I’m thankful for her every single day. The Summer Soul-stice event is moving along nicely and it looks like Bristol will actually DONATE the beer so this event could become our (almost) first-ever fundraiser. Wouldn’t that be something, raising money instead of always spending it?

Was at the wine bar last night, had a couple of meetings so Morgan was here in the evening with Beck. It was productive and worthwhile, although now I’m feeling the pain of simply running around way too much yesterday.

Had quite a lot of “friends of the wine bar” in last night, a couple of BIG groups, and every table was full. I LOVE being at the wine bar when it’s like that (well, I guess that is fairly obvious isn’t it? What owner wouldn’t love being at their place when it’s full? Duh).

Ballou is Perry the Platypus

Today while I sat in the waiting room waiting for Beckett to go in for x-rays, I said to him, “I’m Perry the Platypus,” he answered, “No Mom, Ballou is Perry the Platypus.” I said, “Why aren’t you and why aren’t I?” And he said, “Because I’m sick mom and so are you, so we can’t be Perry the Platypus, because he’s not sick, so Ballou has to be because he’s not sick.” It made me cry. Beckett is feeling better, sound asleep and I will soon crawl in beside him and go to sleep myself.

Doug and Frank (and Ballou) are camping again, and Beck and I will stay here, cuddle and get better.

Curse You Perry the Platypus

Beckett and I play this game, “I’m Perry the platypus,” “No, I’M Perry the platypus,” this can go on for hours and hours. Beckett will giggle and laugh so hard, that I cannot help myself from laughing just as hard as he does. So a few minutes ago I felt his forehead, cooler than it had been, his fever is going away. I said, “I’m Perry the platypus,” and he, very sleepily, answered, “No . . . I’m . . . Perry . . . the . . . platypus.” Then I said, “Curses Perry the platypus,” and he answered, “No mom, it’s curse YOU Perry the platypus.” He’s getting better.

Poor Little Beckett

Beckett has a fever and his tummy is still upset, although I did get some fluids in him and a little tylenol, so his fever is going down. Doug completely emptied the truck, and then repacked it again, after I did three loads of laundry and put away half of the food. He, Frank and Ballou are going to leave tomorrow morning and try to salvage what they can of their camping trip. Beckett will stay here with me, which is for the best for everyone.

Day Two - They're Home

Beckett got sick last night, threw up everywhere on everything and he's got a fever. They're home and really grouchy. Beck is asleep, Frank is watching television and Doug is trying to take a nap. Days of packing and planning and now they weren't even gone 36 hours.

Day Two (Morning)

I woke up this morning without a purpose. Without the boys to get moving and out the door, I don’t have an agenda and can’t figure out how to get started. Yesterday I was driven by the list of things I wanted to get done, this morning, I’m not interested . . . yet. I suppose I have to give myself a chance to wake up before I figure out my day. It is one of those days where I know I have a million things to do, and don’t feel like doing a single one of them. More caffeine injections and perhaps my body and mind will start moving on their own.

It’s the kind of day I would call my mom and end up talking for an hour to put off doing anything else. Once the conversation was finished, I would be motivated to get going. Or she’d be here, which would really get me motivated to do something because I could never sit still when she was here, the truth is, she drove me crazy.

Yesterday I thought a lot about why I haven’t done things like the mending before, why I kept putting it off and letting it sit. What is the difference whether the boys are here or not? I suppose when they are here, I’m talking to them, doing something for them (like making lunches or dinner), scolding them (which seems never ending), checking to see what they’re up to, checking to see what Doug is doing, looking for something Doug can’t find or Frank can’t find.

One thing I’ve realized, although it doesn’t help one BIT with procrastination, is that I often worry and agonize over something I need to do and put sooooo much more energy into the worry of it, or figuring out how to “do it right,” than it would take to simply DO it. I know this, this isn’t news to me. One of the most important things I learned in college was to simply DO and FIX, DO and FIX, DO and FIX . . . as opposed to planning, planning, planning and then doing.

I need to jump in with both feet and get some of the projects done I have been putting off. Which one to start with and how not to get distracted by other “little” stuff all day long is throwing me into analysis-paralysis. Something I know better than to get mired down in.

Doctor appointment later today, which will throw a wrench into whatever I’ve decided to do.

I’m trying to motivate myself, can you tell? Can you also tell it isn’t working?

Yesterday afternoon I got a collect call from Doug from the campground. They’re at the great sand dunes, which is probably a proper noun, although I have to admit I didn’t pay all that much attention to where they were going before they left. Doug is great about keeping me informed of what he’s doing, I even know their campsite number. Not that I would know what to do with that information if I needed it, but at least it is tucked away somewhere in the back of my brain.

Doug said they got a campsite near the creek and were settled in and also told me they decided to stay there two nights rather than head to Crestone today. I asked him how they were all doing, and he let me talk to the boys to find out for myself. Beckett was SO excited, he told me about the snacks they bought on the way, that their tent was near a creek and that Ballou liked laying in the tent. He also said, “Mom, you've GOT to see this,” followed by silence. I think he was trying to figure out how to show me something and realized that I cannot see through the phone. This is a minor milestone, he has, in the past, walked around with phone “showing” whoever was on the other end everything he was talking about.

Frank told me they stopped at a fort, AND that on their way down there (his words were, “Mom, you’re NEVER going to believe this . . .”), they saw a man sitting in the sun, naked! He was incredulous, and he said that. “Mom, I was incredulous, I mean we drove RIGHT by him and he was naked. It was weird.” He went on to tell me they might end up sleeping in the suburban because there were a lot of “menacing” clouds. He tries so hard to work an expanded vocabulary into his stories. I love that about him.

Yesterday my focus was UPSTAIRS, my domain. It’s almost finished. The rest of this week, I have a list for downstairs, which will be easier to put off. I have a tendency to never leave the store once I’m there . . . something EVERYONE tells me, ALL the time. I dreamed of this store for ten years, why wouldn’t I want to be there? I hope this is a good week, we need it. If the economy doesn’t get better, fast, we’re going to be in trouble and might even have to close. With my lack of keeping myself busy, that is where my mind goes, and then I worry . . . have I mentioned at all that I worry a lot?

Woody Woodworth

Yesterday I wrote a little about Woody Woodworth, and today I’ll write a little more.

Woody is one of the best people I know, and probably one of my closest friends. He and Cathy, his wife, are blessed to have found one another, they are, indeed, soulmates.

Woody loves women. Not in a philandering swarmy way, but in the purest way possible. He simply LOVES women. Doesn’t matter the shape, size, political affiliation (well, maybe that), he thinks all women are amazing. When Woody talks to you, he looks you DIRECTLY in the eyes and LISTENS to everything single thing you say. He is completely connected and present in the moment. His mind is never elsewhere, although he has lots of elsewheres for his mind to be.

Woody and I agreed a couple of years ago to serve on the board of the local merchants association. The agreement is I will be vice president if he will be president and vice versa. Either one of us leaves, the other does too. That’s the only way it works. We work well together.

Doug and I get together with Woody and Cathy from time to time, not as often as we’d like. When CJ came to visit, I told them about him and true to form, we all got together for an evening out. Both Woody and Cathy knew how important CJ is to me and made the time to meet and get to know him. I love them for that.

When we go to High Country, Beckett INSISTS on coming inside because he has to talk to Woody about something. Beckett loves Woody and it is because Woody listens to him and treats him like a person, and not everyone treats children like they are people.

Saturday was Cathy's birthday and in the hecticness of the day, I did not call her to wish her a happy one. But I did talk to them at the end of the day when Woody called me to tell me he was bringing firewood up for Doug’s camping trip . . . so thanks to Woody, I got to talk to Cathy on her birthday.

I love living in Monument, and it is because of the people who have entered my life in the three years we’ve been here. There are so many who I feel as though I’ve known all my life. I am truly blessed in that way.

Day One (Mid-Day)

Oh the wonders that I have beheld today. It helped that the boys left at 6:00am and got me up at 5:30 so I could say goodbye, one hundred times (believe me, I am NOT complaining). Beds were stripped, laundry done, and clothes put away before 10:00am. The boys will not recognize the house when they enter it.

I sorted through no less than 563 emails. I still have 36 to ANSWER, but the ratio of unreads to need-to-answer has gotten exponentially better.

I actually READ the Christmas (and birthday cards) we (I) received this year and then put them away. It’s only May right? And in honor of May, I picked vase-fulls of lilacs and have them throughout the house. Tomorrow I will pick more and for my office and the store.

At lunchtime I got together with a friend, and now it is only 2:20 so I have beaucoup hours left to work on the list of things to do around here that I never get to do. Have no fear, reading is near the top. Just sitting and reading, for as long as I want—heaven.

I may not work at the store all week and simply stay home and enjoy the peace and solitude.

I’m keeping track of which “day” it is in the timeline of the boys being gone so I can look back and see when it hit me that I was really ready for them to come home. Any bets?

A reference to today’s Art Quote. Was it really Napolean Bonaparte who said, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” really?

Storypeople - Abandon Hope

Abandon hope all you who enter here because we've got too much stuff to do to be ready for the future to be sitting around hoping.

Perfect for today.

A Blessing and a Curse

An empty house is both a blessing and a curse. The boys aren't gone yet, they're not leaving until tomorrow morning. However, I am starting to get that feeling of dread whenever they go away. When Doug starts talking about it, I always think I'm fine; I say to myself, wow, this time I'm not going to worry about them. Yeah sure. I wish I was able to selectively turn off the worry button in my brain.

I am doing my absolute best to simply celebrate that for the next week, I don't care what they wear or how many days in a row they wear it. Frank could pick out anything he wanted to take, his rattiest t-shirt, his white basketball shorts that are covered in stains—I don't care! It is so freeing, for both of us. I've had to pack their clothes for them (but not pick them out), make sure they took their toothbrushes and toothpaste, make a few food items they can heat up for dinner, and that is it! Camping is definitely Doug's deal.

The 0lder they get, the less they'll need my help, and then I'll be sad that they are growing up and don't need me anymore. Foreshadowing I can almost promise I won't complain when they come home from college and haven't done any laundry for a whole semester, or want me to cook all their favorite dishes for days on end.

There are days that I am sad we never had a little girl, but then there are plenty of other days that I am simply very happy to be the mother of two boys.

Today we stopped by High Country to pick up the firewood Woody so kindly brought up to his store for Doug to take on the trip. Woody and Cathy both, along with the other Cathy (Green), all commented jokingly about what I would do with myself while the boys were gone. Woody was the first to answer that it is more than likely I will work night and day and get twelve million projects done. He knows me all too well.

What he doesn't know is that this time is also a gift from Doug; time for me to relax, have some alone time, get my head back on straight and gear up for the days ahead. I hope to be purposeful and present and do just that.

Go-Fish-Bingo

This morning Beckett and I played cards. I think we sort of played Go Fish, but every time one of us got a match we had to yell Bingo!

More About Oma

This morning I was cooking potatoes for the boys to take on their camping trip and it reminded me of being in the kitchen with my grandmother, who I called Oma. There are so many things I learned from her that there isn't a day that goes by when I'm not reminded of one thing or another. She was my mother for all intent and purposes.

I learned you should never cover starch when it is cooking, and that is what made me think of her today. Also, when I drained the water from the boiled potatoes I remembered how our glasses would always fog up when we did the same thing and how we would laugh and laugh about it. Some of my best memories of my childhood revolve around being in the kitchen with my grandmother and great-grandmother, who I called Grandma Markses, although her name was Marks.

Our life was so simple and straightforward until my grandmother got sick. My grandfather was retired so our days revolved around working in the garden or going for drives, sitting and eating all of our meals together at the dining room table. There wasn't any hustle and bustle of getting here or there, although they were great about all of the activities I was in and making sure they were always there to see me play softball, volleyball, basketball, tennis and swimming. They allowed me to be a part of anything I wanted to be and enjoyed every minute of being spectators.

When my grandmother got cancer, life drastically changed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't be a part of my daily life anymore, she needed to conserve her energy to fight the disease taking over her body. It was a battle she ultimately lost.

I miss her so much there aren't words to describe the feeling I get when I think of her. Every day I wish she was here and that my boys had the opportunity to know her.

Art Hop

Last night was Monument's Art Hop, a series of events that take place May through September. The weather was dismal, rainy and cold and I didn't anticipate a very good turnout. However, it wasn't bad. The featured artist had a few sales, we had more sales on top of that and all in all it gave the new staff at the wine bar a chance to get their feet wet.

Three weeks from now we do it all again, take down one show, put another one up. October through April I forget how much work Art Hop is. Need to rally and put the energy together to make it happen month after month.

Not So Good

Today was not a good day. Something I don't want to write about right now. Doug is taking the boys (and the dog) camping next week for a few days. Suffice to say I need some time. That isn't why he's taking the boys camping, its just good timing. I'll have four or five days to myself, which I haven't had in almost three years.

It isn't that I really want time to myself, and I certainly don't want them to give me MORE time to myself, I never want to wish for them to be away, they'll be grown up and gone plenty soon enough, I don't want to wish for it any sooner than it will already get here. I'm just saying the fact that they are going to be gone next week, happens to be good timing.

Home a Little Late

Yesterday afternoon I went to DIA at 2pm to pick up a friend, Deanne, who was flying in from Phoenix (this is home). Deanne is the only friend I have here in Monument who can actually get me to stop working and go out and play. I don’t know why that is, it just is.

So anyway, we were going to stop for some “fast food” on the way back from the airport (which I don’t really eat), and stopped in Parker because there is a Del Taco. Del Taco has some relatively healthy selections so I do eat their fast food. In the same center there were several intriguing shops so we decided against fast food, went to Ted’s Montana Grill instead, had a great early dinner and then went shopping.

I was supposed to be home by 4-ish, or intended to be, supposed to be is the wrong way of putting it. Instead I think I got home between 8:30 and 9:00. Doug, last night, surely thought I had lost my mind as this kind of thing is so unlike me to do, that losing my mind could be the only explanation.

He’s forever pestering me to get out of the store and do other things, so I did. It was fun, Deanne makes me laugh, and right now, I need laughter more than anything. So thank you Deanne, for getting me to escape and for making me laugh, a lot.

Argh

After eleven years of marriage and four more on top of it with Doug, I'm seriously reaching my limit with the morning grouchiness. I've probably reached my limit before and gotten over it.

I wake up EVERY morning, ready to start a new day. There are days I'm a little behind, slept too late, not enough coffee, BUT for the most part I start every day in a great mood—I am, after all, the epitome of a morning person.

Doug is the POLAR opposite. He is so damn grouchy in the morning I can't stand it. He yells at the boys and invariably there is SOMETHING I have to hear the F-word about within the first half hour of the day. Sick of it, really, really, REALLY sick of it.

Sunday Afternoon

It’s a choice
To stay
It’s a dream
And I wanna wake

You have blood on your hands
And I’m feeling faint
And honey
You can’t decide

I’m a drug
You don’t wanna give up
Smoke your cigarettes
Make your love

You poured blood in my heart
And I can’t get enough
I’m drowning, drowning
And you can’t decide

It’s not about geography or happenstance
You need to fly and take a chance
You don’t need to soar to emptiness
Float on high and forever dance alone

You’re scared
Cause I feel like home

Hear your voice
And I knew right away
If you were here
What your eyes would say

I have blood on my feet
As I walk away
Rivers are red
Its starting to rain

I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side

I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side

I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side

Not gonna shed one more tear for you
Shed one more tear for you
I’m not gonna shed one more tear for you

At least not until Sunday afternoon
Leave or stay

From Rachael Yamagata’s Elephants . . . Teeth Sinking Into Heart

Genny Cream Ale

A half an hour in the sun and a half a Genesee Cream Ale (thanks Doug for getting me my favorite beer and thanks Ballou for spilling it so I didn't drink the whole thing), and I’m a happy girl.

Well No Wonder

If there is anything to be done, either at home or at the store, I can’t sit still. With two little boys, a husband and a dog, there is always something that needs to be done, it is simply never ending. It is 2:02pm and I’ve been on the move since 8 this morning. And, there’s no end in sight. I wish I was one of those people who could just overlook things like spots on the carpet, or “stuff” everywhere, but I’m not, never have been, not likely I ever will be. I rarely go downstairs because there is ALWAYS something to be done. So when I do, I just close my eyes and try to get done whatever it is I’m down there for.

Having two boys definitely lowered my standards though. I can overlook a lot more than I used to be able to, like the garage. I just, again, close my eyes and walk through it. Every now and then Doug realizes it has gotten so bad he anticipates hearing something about it. But the other thing I’ve gotten better at, is never saying anything. So before I say something that I will never say, he cleans it up.

A long time ago I saw a sign in some gift shop that said, “A messy house is a sign of a loving mom.” Yeah, well . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with the guilt.

What I’d really like to do right now is go sit in the sun somewhere and read a book. I got an email from Deanne last night saying she wished I was in Arizona with her. Me too.

Exhausted

I’m exhausted, not a good time to write I suppose. Also have a horrible headache verging on what I believe to be a migraine, but there are some things I want to remember from today and I won’t unless I do this now.

Rachel Alexandra:
I missed the Preakness due to Frank’s baseball game and the event at the wine bar (and we don’t have any tv’s in the wine bar), but I can tell you I was online every minute checking to see who won. Thirteen minutes later it was FINALLY posted that Rachel Alexandra won. Never a feminist, just the time I was born I guess, or maybe that my mother WAS so I never would be . . . and I don’t necessarily equate fillies and feminism, BUT I have to tell you that I was so excited that a filly won the preakness that the girls at the wine bar automatically assumed I had money on the race, which I did not. I just think its great . . . those colts always think they’re so hot (not really, I’m just kidding). This may be the only time in my life I use the phrase "you go girl," with any conviction (or at all).

Frank’s baseball game:
Frankie did so well tonight. When I first got there he was sitting out the inning, but then the catcher was injured so he went in. Like I said, he did really well. But I h*te those little b*st&r!s that steal bases. There wasn’t any way Frank could get all the wild pitches he was supposed to catch, and of course he blamed himself for how many kids stole bases. I just don’t think when the ball rolls under the fence (behind home plate) in Little League that the kids should be allowed to steal home. I was actually one of those parents you simply wish weren’t at games today, although I was (relatively) quiet about it. I can tell you I was really pissed. I’ll reference back to this in a minute.

Cline Event at the Wine Bar:
It ended up being an almost sold out event, which was great (I think I use this word too much, but I’m tired and my head hurts, so here it is--everything is great). Let this serve as a reminder to myself that I should never have as many OPTIONS again as I did tonight. Wine tasting with dinner; wine tasting without dinner; dinner without wine tasting; none of the above, order off the tapas menu and wine list. And if that wasn’t bad enough, one table only wanted HALF of the prix fixe dinner. OMG.

Reference Back:
The Pepples, whose son Reese was on the opposing team tonight, were at the wine event. Sherri and I often share similar opinions; and she says she really cannot attend her kids’ sporting events because she gets so upset. Yep, me too. Bob, on the other hand, thinks the whole stealing thing is a good thing because its the game of baseball and they have to learn sometime that that is the way the game is played. Yeah, he’s right, but not when MY son is catching, okay?

Anniversary:
I guess when you have two kids and a wine bar, there really isn’t time for anniversaries, but everybody who was there tonight wished ME a happy one (since Doug was home with the boys). No big deal, just mildly funny.

Kept getting funny texts and emails all night, which made the night bearable. Otherwise, wine events aren’t really all that fun if my favorite customers aren’t there, and they weren’t. I love Cline wines, but I didn’t taste a single one tonight, just not in the mood, good thing there are still some in the cellar.

I think there was more I wanted to remember to write about, but I’m spent and every single inch of my body aches. I hope I feel better tomorrow.

If You Could Fall

Candlelight. Steel blue-gray clouds over swollen life.
Sweet balance and snowflakes on the steps, waiting,
Like me.

Beautiful,
If only you were able to move, to go, to fly, to fall.

I know how deep your smile
How hard your love
How far your longing
How wild your passion
If you were able to fall.

To see you there then
Would tickle me crazy
To see you there in the embrace of that fall.
But I already know that fear
You have that smile.

Your eyes burn under their brim
That love
That joy
That fall.

Therefore I hum, I sigh, I giggle
I kiss, I smile, I know
I vow, I go
Having had that joy
Having had that very joy I desire for you,
And you fall.

Another One

I don’t want to forget this one either:

In art as in love, instinct is enough.
—Anatole France

May 15

Eleven years ago Doug and I were in Cambria, along with most of our friends. On this day, if I remember correctly, all the girls (and there were A LOT of them), were gathered at the beach house on Windsor Drive for manicures, pedicures and massages—oh, and wine. What a day that was.

Followed later by the wedding rehearsal, at which, Doug and I came very close to being married right there and then, although Pastor Russ didn’t cooperate. That certainly would have been a twist. We’re simply not that impulsive.

Then, later that evening, we all gathered at the Sea Chest for the rehearsal dinner. It is one of my fondest memories. I’ll never forget seeing my friend Meredith walk in the door. She surprised me and flew in from New York and I hadn’t thought she was going to be able to make it.

I remember how Doug’s father got tears in his eyes when Doug gave him the watercolor of Piedras Blancas—a painting that continues to make me misty-eyed whenever I see it hanging in their home in Florida.

AND, I remember Doug’s face when he saw the groom’s cake I had made, and the pride in his eyes when I told the story of him insisting we would only get married on top of Half Dome and there, his cake, was a topographic map of Yosemite Valley with a bride and groom on Half Dome. It isn’t often that I can impress Doug with any sort of creativity because he is always light years ahead of me in that department. But that night, and the next day, I think he was proud of all I had done for the wedding.

It is hard to believe we’ve been married eleven years, although since Frank is almost ten, I am reminded that it has, in fact, been that long on a daily basis. At the same time it seems as though we’ve been married fifty years.

Fifteen years ago, I had a dinner party at my house with Doug and Bonnie Toth, Per and Elaine (then Gasparek) Welinder and Doug Buchman, and from that night on, Doug and I have never been apart except for a couple vacations here and there. We intentionally got married around our “dating” anniversary because at the time, Doug thought he was going to have to remember both. (How sweet is that?) And then there’s that other event that takes place this weekend, the Paso Robles Wine Festival, and we figured all our friends would be there every year anyway, why not also celebrate our wedding anniversary. I sure wish we were headed there today. But alas, we are not.

MOMS Club

It has been such an interesting day. As I already said, I haven’t been in the store very much.

And now, I am in the midst of deja vu (all over again). There is a MOMS Club banquet at the wine bar tonight! For any of you I know from the MOMS Club that are reading this, I can almost guarantee you either said, “OMG you’re kidding,” or burst out laughing. How long was I president? I know in the book as I was given someone wrote that they thought I would be president until our children graduated from high school. That was clearly my signal to RETIRE!

As are typical with MOMS Club banquets, there are lots of thank yous, lots of flowers, lots of gifts and lots of tears. They opened with “what MOMS Club has meant to me,” which, of course, brought the memories flooding back to me. Some of my closest friends are women I met at MOMS Club. In fact, at the last annual banquet I attended, I wrote Chris her “letter,” in which I asked her to Beckett’s godmother.

I have to admit that I don’t think about MOMS Club all that often, although with the advent of Facebook, I am happy to be back in touch with so many of you again. It was a great time of my life and I cherish the memories for myself and for Frank.

Frank is a kid whose teachers always comment that he gets along with any age group. He never sticks to only those in his class, he hangs out with kids older, kids younger, it makes no difference to him. And he fits in with all of them. Every parent-teacher conference I’ve had, that comes up. Each of his teachers tell me how unique Frank is in that way. I attribute it to MOMS Club.

I will never forget the first park day I went to. That day I met Alicia Light, June Batista, Jane Watson and Chris Piovesan. When we were in California last summer, four of the five us got together at the beach and it was if no time whatsoever had passed, either for us or for our children, who get along as well as we do.

Alicia gave Frank his first pretzel. It was that day I learned that kids ALWAYS want someone else’s food, NOT the snack you packed for them. And more importantly, I learned that was OKAY. As a somewhat older new mom, I was probably more concerned with doing it “right” than I should have been. These women taught me that whatever I did was right, and if it wasn’t, it would all work out anyway.

I’m not sure what kind of mother I would be without my MOMS Club experience. Less patient I’m sure. Less tolerant of my own children and other people’s children. Less tolerant of other mothers, or more judgmental I suppose. I learned so much about sacrifice and smiling in the face of it. And most importantly, to simply have fun, cherish the moment, and to remember as much as I possibly can and not wish for any instant to go by faster than it already does.

So once again, in the spirit of the banquet taking place tonight, I thank each one of you I know from the MOMS Club. And I want you to know that I miss you, very much.