Ah, to be four again...

I have never understood why anyone...ANYONE...would want to go back in time and relive their high school years. Geez, the most insecure, confusing, pimply time fraught with jealousy, gossip, and cliques. Ay, yi, yi! Now, to go back and be four again, that's where it's at. I have the great pleasure of working with and around four-year-olds five days a week, 9 months a year. I think it pretty much rocks to be four!

Magic is absolutely real, you're utterly and completely immortal (if you ever even give death a thought at all...probably not); you're at your peak cuteness, EVERYTHING you do is cute, even tantrums; you don't stink unless you poop or are working up to one; if you happen to pee your pants because whatever you're doing is simply too cool to walk away from, it's no biggie because someone always has extra clothes there for just in case. If you're on a soccer team everyone loves when you run after the ball as a mob of four-year-olds, or if you decide that the pretty flowers and butterflies are more interesting than the game your parents find that just as video-worthy as making a goal. Even schools understand that you should be learning through play. Man alive, four-year-olds have got it made in the shade.

Yeah, I think going back and being four again would be awesome. And, bonus for me, as much as I absolutely love and adore my baby brother these days (I was QUITE grouchy when he showed up on the scene when I was five-and-a-half and all the adult attention was suddenly divided), it would be wonderful to have a year-and-a-half of only childness again. (Love you, Vince!)

Moments of Peace

I got to ride my bike in the rain tonight.  It was perfection.  It was the beginning of one of those moments that always draw my attention.  You know, those moments where you feel totally at peace.  No concerns, yeah, just me, my awesome one-speed cruiser, and the rain.  I got home, my kid was WAY excited to see me, ran over and picked me up...because he can.  Carried me to the kitchen with an enthusiastic request for Frito Pie, and gently put me down in my "work spot".  How could I refuse?  I got at least 3 hugs during the process and then he complimented me the best way he can...with a huge fart that was, in his words, "AWESOME!"  Ya know, I can absolutely welcome "awesome" farts into my peaceful moments.  Smile.

Skippy

We were driving home tonight after a middle school football game and we passed the Alamo Drafthouse...TONS of cars lining the street.

"Must be an Alamo thing," I say.

"I remember!" pipes up Dave, (pause) "...the Alamo...."  Get it?

Collective groan.  We drive home the rest of the way in silence until we're at our driveway.

"You're lucky you get to appreciate my sense of humor," he says, beaming with pride.

"Hmmmmm," I think.  Well, I suppose so.  But mostly I'm lucky I get to married to a guy who has developed a relationship with the squirrel who lives in our Red Oak tree.  He's even named the cute little guy "Skippy".  Dave sits outside and hangs out with Skippy.  He makes sure Skippy has plenty of water.  Skippy and Dave get each other and have bonded in a way only a man and a squirrel can...I don't really understand.

One day I saw Skippy flopped over a branch, totally limp, I thought he was dead.  Oh, no!  I tip-toed closer and closer and suddenly he looked up at me and scurried off.  Scared the heck out of me.  That little dude sure knows how to relax.    

Here's to Skippy and all those other squirrels who totally get the fine art of chilling out.

This is the cool little squirrel who hangs out at the school where I work.  

Caught him lounging on the brick wall by the library a few days ago.

Awesome.

I'm going door to door!

With my kid out selling band fundraiser stuff tonight, I'm reminded of the pure awfulness of doing that myself. I dreaded fundraiser season, and, back then, parents would just let you go everywhere...alone...in the dark...talking to strangers...inside their homes...oh,my. The fundraiser I remember most was the year we sold LPs. The Moody Blues and Led Zeppelin were a big sellers that year. So was The Alan Parsons Project (unfortunately no relation, but I was sure asked that a lot around that time). I bought myself a Shawn Cassidy album, of course. It came with a FABULOUS poster in it that I tacked to my wall, and yes, ladies, he did watch my every move, eyes following me everywhere. Pure, sweet awesomeness. Jealous much?

My kid is the opposite of me when it comes to these things. He's out selling with gusto, confidence still brimming over from his VERY successful ACL lemonade stand. I keep closing my eyes and thinking of him as the big headed door-to-door salesman from Pee Wee Herman..."I'm going door to door...." You go, little dude!

Booted outa Bed

Woke up in the middle of the night all snuggled up to my kiddo who had apparently fallen asleep in our bed. I cozied in as I drifted in and out of sleep and finally woke with a panicky thought, "Ack! What if he pees in the bed?!?!" Hasn't happened in many years, but the memory is still somehow fresh in my olfactory and moisture-sensitive consciousness.

I yank the covers off of him, "Get up and go to the bathroom and go to your bed!!" I give him a shake and a shove.

"It's me, Kali." My husband's voice, more kind than it needed to be.

"Oh...oops." I pull the covers back in place, a little embarrassed, but not enough to prevent me from falling back to sleep immediately. Hope the same was true for him.

He's a Big'un!

My little guy officially outweighs me!  He has triumphantly hit the 100 pound mark at long last!

He told me, standing beside me, his chest puffed out, "I'm heavier than you, I'm stronger than you, and I'm almost taller than you."  We are exactly the same height...as of late last night, anyway.

Yeah, these are big times in his life.  He started playing football last month and his body has responded like it was expecting the challenge and his appetite is unreal.  I look at him with such awe, my brain trying to catch up with what I'm seeing before me.  I often get caught staring and am met with a familiar "my mom is crazy" look.  Deal with it babe, mom's just taking mental snapshots of your amazingness.

Twinkie Magic

I saw the most magical creatures today.  I was walking through the HEB in Northwest Hills (in that hood because I had the pleasure of visiting both of my parents this afternoon).  A most amazing being rounded the corner pushing a cart, her gray hair in adorable pigtails, beige baseball cap atop her head, a brightly colored, intensely patterned button-down long sleeve shirt paired with cropped pants with a pattern all their own...she was magnificient!  She must have been in her mid to late 70s and I was in love!  I approached her to express my adoration and to my great pleasure and astonishment a perfectly matched being came around the corner to join the first.  I think I stopped breathing.  TWINS!  Matching faces, matching pigtails, matching beige hats, and matching outfits...only the bright patterns differed.  As I walked beside them all I could get past my lips as my brain was stuck in "Awe" mode was, "I love your pigtails!!!!"

#1 Twin:  "Thank you!"  Huge grin spreading across her lovely face.

#2 Twin:  "We're just trying to hide."  Smirky grin on her face.

Me:  "Oh, no...you two are BEAUTIFUL!!!"

We parted ways, all three of us turned so we could see the other, smiling with pure appreciation and, dare I say, love.

So here's the deal.  I want to be them when I'm an old lady!  I want to still be wearing the most awesome pigtails ever.  I want to go out in public wearing REALLY LOUD clothing and look amazing in it.

I need a twin to join me in this venture...I'll be taking applications starting tomorrow.

Those twins would totally rock a shirt with this design on it...
I need to find them again!

Pointless, you say, eh?

My husband and I decided we were going out to eat tonight. Invited both kiddos and received resounding rejections from both. Then, after realizing he'd be making his own dinner, one kid decided to go. So, I make the poor kiddo waaaaaiiiit while I brush my teeth.

"What are you doing, mom?" (exasperated tone)

"I'm brushing my teeth." (obvious...I was talking to him as my electric toothbrush madly whirred)

"That's pointless mom!"  (leaning against the bathroom door frame)

"Huh?"  (swish...spit)

"Why would you brush your teeth when you're about to eat?!?!"

"Because I just ate prunes and I could feel some between my teeth." (yes, secret's out...I eat, and actually love, prunes)

"That's like washing your hair right before you stick your head in mud." (SIGH!) "That's stupid AND pointless."

Ah, well.... (insert image of me smiling really big here and one of my front teeth sparkling)

Almost everything has a point.

Girliness

A few weeks ago I was yelled at in front of the school where I work by one of the city crossing guards when rode my bike on the crosswalk instead of walking it.

"Hey, girl!" he shouted. I stopped and turned around, sunglasses shielding my eyes, black helmet hiding most of my hair, just curly strands dangling out of the bottom.

"Are you a girl?"

Gee, what a question. I explained that I'm a teacher and I'm just really short...as the day went on I chose to take it as the ultimate compliment. That's my take, anyway.  Tonight I've been reflecting on my girliness...or lack thereof. I never, ever wear make-up except on Halloween (maybe); I completely quit painting my toes over the summer when I chose to paint on paper instead; I arrive home from work each day and change immediately into workout wear and keep it on till I go to bed; I wear sloppy, slouchy PJ's; and my hair is consistently a wreck. Lucky for me my family loves me anyway.

Oh, and I now have special permission to ALWAYS ride my bike on the crosswalk. Awesome, eh?

A particularly girly ghost.

Paranoid? Maybe...

Walking around my "go to" craft store today, got a couple of new pens (two of mine have actually gone dry...personally I find it VERY exciting that I've used that much ink!), and some paper of different sizes, grabbed a new paintbrush, too. I decided to cruise around the store to look for something fun to photograph that I could work into a painting someday. I snap a few pics and then there's an announcement on the PA, one of those weird code things that only employees know the meaning of. Me? I snap to "Lady on aisle 12 is illegally taking photos of store products." I slip my phone back into my purse and slowly work my way up to the front of the store, sure that I'm being followed. I dodge around making strange paths in attempt to throw them off of my trail. I get to the front and I'm standing at the register sure I got away with something...whew! Then the manager walks up behind the person checking out my stuff and just stands there. Frack! My heart starts beating at a quicker pace. I do my best fun, casual conversation with a stranger routine. She rings all my stuff up and gives me the total. The manager slinked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I started to scan my debit card and the checker said, "Wait!" Oh, no! She pulled the pens I had purchased and looked at the weekly flier, "I don't really think these are the ones on sale, but I'm going to give you the price break anyway." Huh? Yay! I left happy, happy, happy.

P.S. I'm absolutely positive that I've got at least 12 warrants out for my arrest and that I'm currently breaking about 25 traffic laws every time a police car happens to be behind me when I'm driving. This in spite of the fact that I totally drive like a little old granny. Ay yi yi...

A Good Cry

It occurred to me today that it's been a REALLY long time since I've cried.  The last time I remember really crying, actually almost sobbing, was at the end of Spring Break week watching the last episode of Battlestar Galactica.  I watched the entire series that week, and, well, I suppose I was completely overwhelmed by its conclusion.  Highly recommend watching it by the way.  I also cried and cried and cried when I finished reading the Mockingjay trilogy, but I think that was before B.G.  Highly recommend reading those books, too.  I remember a few years ago back when I still watched TV, I used to get a good cry in every day during Oprah.  Somehow that woman always had something on her show that would have me crying with joy, sadness, or absolute despair.  Finding myself wondering if there's some benefit to crying regularly that I'm missing out on these days.  I feel fine...just in case, though, maybe I'll pull up some YouTube clips from Forrest Gump...that always gets me going.

Sometimes even an onion needs a good cry.

Fun

Had a long talk today with one of my kiddos about making the best of things. I tried really hard to get my point across to him that in pretty much any situation, you can choose to have it be fun. Or, gosh, at the very least you can choose to not have it be torture.

"Mom, I can't just decide to make things fun like you do...doing dishes isn't fun...period!"

Yeah it is.

Up the Hill from ACL

Woke up this morning with my right arm aching.  Spent part of the morning wondering what the heck I had done and then I realized that it was from stirring batch after batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies for my kid's lemonade, etc. stand.  My Kitchenaid mixer sits quietly atop the fridge collecting dust because this girl LOVES a rubber spatula and a bowl.  I bet he sold 100 of my cookies to ACLers!  He and a couple of his friends were amazing salesmen, totally unafraid of talking strangers into spending some cash and they also got the fact that being funny gets customers to come your way.  Fave moment of the weekend sales?  Definitely when the Hey Cupcake truck could be heard, twanging some ice cream truck tunes, coming up the hill toward our house.  My kid grabbed some cash and waved it in the air as the truck approached, and yelled, "We have money, we have money!!!"  The Hey Cupcake truck parked right in front of our house and the boys each bought a beautiful cupcake.  The cupcake dude attracted a few more customers and sold more cupcakes, then those customers bought drinks from my kid's stand because, well gee, cupcakes make you REALLY thirsty.  THEN the cupcake dude got out of his truck and bought stuff from my kid.  Super cool of him!  I'm officially a Hey Cupcake fan...not that I'd ever actually eat one, though.  :-)

 The rain made me really happy!

Change

Been thinking all day about a woman who approached me this morning as I was loading groceries into my car at HEB. She was dressed A LOT better than I was, make-up on her face, purse hanging on her arm, long painted nails. The first thing she said to me was, "I'm not homeless." Felt like she assumed I'd think less of someone clearly approaching me to ask for something if they were homeless as opposed to "not homeless". Made me wonder. I listened to her as she told me a long story about how she needed to get meds somewhere, I think at a different HEB, because someone had changed something, all the while waving a prescription receipt in the air. Then she told me that the bus rates had gone up. She had a pamphlet about this that she waved as well. As she spoke I could see the gaps in her mouth where her teeth had once been, gold flashing on the teeth that remained. I let her finish, her need still not clearly stated.

"Do you need some cash?"

She nodded and I pulled my wallet out and retrieved all the change that I had and let it fall into her hand, our fingers lightly touching. She turned abruptly and walked away in the direction she had come from, hunching over, counting her money.

I know, I know...there's a watermark.  

I'm not a fan, but I'm taking the recommendation 

of someone who knows what they're talking about.

Wonderlandia

I know I've brought up Wonderlandia before...the pure magic, loveliness, and bliss of it washes over anyone who is lucky enough to visit.  Yes, there are many "things" around Wonderlandia that make you smile, think, and, of course, wonder, but it's the spirit of Wonderlandia that brings together my heart, mind, and soul to a feeling of such bliss.  My dear friend (who would probably kick me in the shin for mentioning her name) has bit by bit, inch by inch, lovingly orchestrated its creation.  She wants no credit.  Her greatest pleasure is listening quietly as a child, filled with wonder, finds a fairy door with fairy dust sprinkled all around so you know for sure that the fairies have just been there and they barely missed them, or a parent of a toddler walks by and points to the trees above that sparkle so saying that there's magic above.  I'm in awe of my friend and so, so, so lucky to have her in my life...all of our lives!  Love you, Lady!

One square foot of Wonderlandia

Ninja Skills

Tonight my kiddo was begging, and I mean beeeegggggging me to cut up the watermelon that had been sitting on the counter.  "Stuff to do" kept coming up for me before I got to it.  I was on the verge of taking on the cutting task when he suddenly ran into the kitchen proclaiming, "I'll do it!!"  He pulled out our HUGE cutting board, wiped it down, put the watermelon on top, pulled the big butcher's knife from the magnetic rack, lay the knife atop, flashed me a sparkly smile and proceeded to chop the living you-know-what out of that watermelon.  He finished with great flare, swishing the knife in the air, and declaring, "I'm a fruit ninja!"  Awesome!

Yeah, missed it again...

Oh my, I'm officially a football player's mom.  I don't really know what to do with that.  I failed miserably as a soccer mom.  Yeah, I got him to practices, attended games, brought snacks on my assigned game day...but did I actually see all of his amazing plays.  Uh, no.  I can focus on so many different things, intensely and for long periods, but I am absolutely incapable of keeping my eyes on an athletic event for more than about 10 seconds straight.  Can I tell you what was on the front of the T-shirt of the kid who was sitting a few rows down from me?  Heck yeah.  Can I tell you all about what the girl who had totally lopsided pigtails did throughout the game?  Um, yes.  Can I tell you anything about my kid's participation in the game aside from the fact that he ran on and off the field a bunch of times and ran into an opposing player once?  Not a chance.  Do I reveal my apparent lack of interest in his game?  No way..."Great game kiddo, you looked like you had fun!"

So misunderstood...

I was reminded today about one of my parents favorite stories of me as a kiddo.  They still bring it up, time to time, when it applies to whatever situation we're experiencing.

As a little one, till the age of about five, I was pretty much a perfect angel.  At about five-and-a-half things changed.  I absolutely, positively started rebelling.  Forget the need for teenage hormones, this girl was ready.  We'd be having it out and things would escalate, and I'd be saying, over and over, "I'm not in my head, I'm not in my head!"  This went on for many, many months...my parents wondered if perhaps I was intuitive about my mental state and that I was not, in fact, "in my head"...they  considered contacting doctors...they definitely decided that I surely needed therapy.  My frustration rose as did their confusion and helplessness.  Until one day, I let them know (quite loudly, I'm sure) that they were NOT listening to me.  I slowly nodded my head while I enunciated each syllable, "I'm nod-ding my head!!!!"  "Oh," I'm sure they thought, "Kali was agreeing with us."

Yeesh!  :-)

Climbing the Walls

Another day another draw...only today it was seven vials of blood they took.  Oy!  I don't think there's much about me that they won't know.  The phlebotomist (is that a great word or what?!?!), a larger than life woman with kind eyes and a gentle touch who has poked me many, many times, carefully posed the vials all in a row so I could take a picture of them.  Sweeeeeet!  Have to say, though, that she visibly rolled her eyes when I said I wanted to snap a shot.  Ah, well.  So, seven vials of blood, just how much blood is that anyway?  I wondered if I'd be able to walk without falling when they were done.  I wondered if they'd make me sit in the lobby doing puzzles for 30 minutes.  I wondered if I'd be able to feel my heart working double-time to make up for the loss.  Well...nothing.  I didn't feel a thing.  Then I wondered if something was wrong because I didn't feel a thing.  :-)


Oh, and I'm seriously going to take my friend's advice and close my eyes next time.  Not so I won't see the needle, but so I can pretend it's Eric or Bill.  Sigh....

Reflection

I don't watch TV and catch very little news on the radio or online, so I found myself reflecting on my memories of this day, ten years later, in a personal way.  What I remember most that day was losing my mind from sheer shock and panic, and then having to get it together to support my father whose wife was in the Middle East.  I remember crying with him, I remember trying to reassure him that she'd be able to get out safely, I remember serving him microwave-reheated fish that was not in the least bit tasty, I remember watching WAY too much news, I remember being glad we were together. 

Reflecting on the loss that is such a part of this day, I found myself comforted and delightfully amused by a friend's way of connecting with his deceased grandmother.  He has a lovely, whimsical doll resting on a piece of furniture in his bedroom.  On her lap is a deliciously blinged-out red cell phone, should they ever need to talk.  This makes me so, so happy!  Perhaps because of all the people I've known who have died, my own grandmother is the one person I'd most like to check in with.  I wouldn't need to know where she is or anything like that, instead I'd want to let her know that I'm OK.  That I'm no longer the angst-ridden 17 year old she worried so much about during the last year of her life, the one she so desperately wished she could invite to live in her home were she not so ill.  I'd want her to know that though I didn't "fit" in my nuclear family for many years during my childhood, I have a beautiful family of my own now and I do my best to make sure my own children do "fit".  I think I'd like to ease her mind and set her free.  I think I need my own magical, sparkly phone.

For Urah Bell, Grandma Avis, and my Nana.

Our Ghoulish Critters

Our lovely pets are quite a sight today.  Quite ghoulish, actually.  Our dog, Scout, has been wearing one of Dave's tie-dye T-shirts for over a week, held tight at her waist with one of my hairbands looping around a knot.  Under the shirt she's shaved, sliced, stapled and stitched, but no longer lumpy. She handily avoided the cone of shame by leaving the five surgery sites alone.  I did put the cone out on the counter for a while so she'd know we meant business.  Our cat, Pug, has a shaved spot on the back of his neck where an abscess ruptured this morning with a ghastly smell of death.  I thought he surely had gangrene, but he'll be fine.  Both his ears were nicked as well.  The vet declared that he was definitely the winner in the fight...silver lining, I have a bad ass cat!  Pug says, "You should've seen the other guy!"  So, $900 spent on a dog and cat within a week-and-a-half gets you two critters fit for the most frightening of haunted houses.  Too bad it's a month early....

Bedtime Bliss

I admit it...every night when I get all jammied up and my head hits my pillow and I pull the quilt up, I sing the praises of my bed...out loud.  It's one of my favorite times of day.  The lighting is soft and the sound of the ceiling fan spinning overhead is soothing to my soul.  I curl up with my huggy pillow, close my eyes and instantly begin to drift to sleep...until,  "Cannon Ball!!!", my eyes clinch shut, I assume a protective pose, and my husband and youngest kiddo leap on to the bed and gently land on me, one atop the other, giggling madly, vying for the best "mommy hugging" position.  Yup, definitely one of my favorite times of the day.  :-)

Little Glimpses

I love the little glimpses I get into others' lives.  There's simply nothing better than a butt call...or like what happened today with my kiddo when he pushed the wrong button and didn't hang up on me.  I never give these opportunities more than about 30 seconds.  It's totally nosy and I realize that, but they also get boring really quickly, so I do hang up promptly.  Anyway, today my kiddo gave me a glimpse of his french horn lesson.  There was some lovely noting and defining of "sharps" and some sweet, positive responses from my little guy.  Nice to hear such a lovely reflection of his personality while in the presence of others when he's ever-increasingly snarky (in a really cute and amusing way) at home.  Ah, change....

Simple Pleasure

One of my very favorite activities is hanging laundry on the my clothesline.  It's even more wonderful when the only company I have while I'm doing it is my dog.  Scout understands the command "Let's go do laundry!"  With great enthusiasm she runs to the back door, slipping out underneath the basket I'm carrying.  Sometimes all I have to do is open the clothes washer and she shows up, all bright-eyed and lookin' to "help".  There's something about the subtle creak of the clothespins, the movement of fabric, the figuring out how to get the most hung on the line...for me it's the bliss of the process.  Sigh...

Sammiches

The magical transformation of a caterpillar into a magnificent butterfly leaves me utterly and completely full of awe and wonder every spring.  But...the magical transformation of an ornery teen into a soft, sweet being with heart bubbles floating over his head is even more awe-worthy.  I credit the power of bread, ham, turkey, cheese, mustard, mayo, and tuna...add a little toasty action in the toaster oven and some sour cream an onion chips on the side...unbelievable.  I can feel the love.

Missing the Horny Toads

Horny Toads were everywhere when I was little...behind rocks, in the water shut-off valve thingies, and scurrying around when I walked out on my back porch.  They were spectacular and abundant.  You remember, right?  I haven't seen one in the wild for about 30 years, but on a school field trip with my kiddo I was able to introduce him to this wonderful critter. 

I started sketching this out as we were driving to Oklahoma on Friday morning.  I showed my kiddo how cool they looked and he agreed (Great kiddo, he's very patient with my ramblings!).  All in my little world seemed right.  On Sunday evening when I sat down to add color, I logged on to facebook and read of the wildfires in Central Texas and their impact on so many.  I tried to process all the loss due to the them, having also found out that one of the homes lost in Bastrop belonged to dear friends Dave and I had just had the pleasure of going out with Friday evening.

As we drove home today we saw so much charred grass along the highway, and as we approached the Central Texas area the smoke from fires on all sides of us was visually overwhelming.  I'm heartbroken for all those affected by this and hope they find peace and resolution soon.

I'm also finding myself missing the little horny toads....

Loss

When I painted this I was thinking of such lightness and bliss.  I am now only thinking of my friends who lost their home to the wildfire in Bastrop in the last hour.  Sending them loving, protective thoughts.

Playing Possum

What can I say...if you know me, you know I've loved possums since I was a kid.  I think they're absolutely, fabulously beautiful.  Even the big "ugly" ones when they're hissing.  Simply exquisite!  When I was twelve I found two young abandoned possums, sequentially, not at the same time.  I LOVED them, and in my twelve-year-old clever style, named them "Possy" and "Opie".  I hunted food for them (lots of crickets, roaches, and even a lizard!), I carried them everywhere I went, they sat on my shoulder as I practiced french horn, we were inseparable.  Possy, my favorite of the two, had a missing finger on one of her hands.  It was dried and shriveled when I found her in the middle of a field, playing possum, of course, and it soon fell off.  She required bottle feeding at first as she was too young to eat solids, but as she grew stronger she was delightfully ravenous and it became clear that she was fit to be with her fellow possums.  A date was set for Possy to be released into the wild, but lucky for me she bit my hand and drew blood...I was SO happy because this meant I was able to keep her for two more weeks while she was quarantined just in case she had rabies.  It was the best quarantine ever for a critter as nothing in our routine changed (except for the fact that I CONSTANTLY tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to bite me again).  Her quarantine ended quietly and we released her in Wild Basin where I imagine she lived out a wonderful life.  For years after when I'd see a possum cruising around, I'd look at their front feet just in case there were only four digits on one of them.  Have to admit that 32 years later I still take a gander when the opportunity presents itself.  Old habits die hard.

Juxtaposition

One of my life-long favorite words and concepts.  I even love the sound of it as it rolls off my tongue.  And gosh, when it brings up that tension level that is oh-so-satisfying, it's pure bliss...you know, once I get over being annoyed by it.  I've forever applied the concept to things, but I'm realizing lately that it seriously applies to the people in my life as well.  We are all so incredibly similar in oh so many ways and also so gosh darn different in others.  And here we all are, positioned side-by-side in this world.  So, maybe, just maybe, as we head in to the sometimes (always?) ugly campaign season, we can embrace the idea that we're simply juxtaposed, find a way to bliss out on the tension that really just shows that we're lucky to not all be the same, and see some some sort of beauty in it all.

I have a dear friend that is the queen of juxtaposing.  She has created a place of such extraordinary beauty and magic and everywhere I look I think, "Whoda thunk that would've gone together to create such loveliness?!?!"  Love the pure bliss of Casa Wonderlandia!

Roll into a Little Ball

I'm ever so slightly freaking out.  After a friend put a request out to the universe that my bat painting be on a T-shirt I researched it and actually made it possible.  It was so amazing and, gosh, super freaky seeing the mock-up on the web site.  Makes me feel like spinning around in circles and rolling into a little ball like this little guy can...and then explode out of it and scurry around some more.  :-)