Fearless on the Rainiest Day in the World

The annual field day at PSU Mont Alto was a terrible affair, with Eazy-E up tent frames having been mashed in the wind, an icy drizzle, and a few hundred people hovering awkwardly in a too-small tent. L. was excited because there was FREE TEA in the tent, which meant she could get hopped up on Splenda. J. Rebecca was our star of the day, and had the fortitude to not only climb a tall oak tree, but to do so in the rain and as fast as possible. Up, up, up she went until she got to ring the bell of victory, or at least the bell of completion. In the past year I have been impressed by her singular approach to making her education happen and being fully invested in the process, whether it be by talkin' trees with Paul G or climbing them! 

The Shortest-Lived Art Project Ever

I can't believe it! 

I love the Girl Scouts

Our Being

Bear blogger has a prolific period in the spring and rests for the long winter. Turtle blogger is slow and steady at the pace. Turtle's grandmother blogger is bright and shining in moments and then forgets she meant to blog.  Woodchuck blogger observes a long view from the pines and then hammers away at the keys. Owl blogger sees everything and says nothing.

Awesome Drawing Program, http://www.zefrank.com/scribbler/scribblertoo/

Unveiling

From the other side of things, I had neither an opportunity to create nor one to learn how to be patient. I was able to simply watch it unfold. From my seat the final moment for p became the beginning of one for d, and everything was all matchy-matchy. 

I have been thinking a lot about scale lately, for example with this picture it seems fairly lackluster on the small screen, but I imagine it big, like 16x20 or 24x36 ...does it make the picture any better? I love the winter landscapes that are sparse and minimal. I like to think about how it would be to look at this picture when we are deep in the juicy muck of spring, when the peach trees are buzzing. 

Seven

Oh my dear young lady, burning with a love of all things pink and good, she is full of the self that I once was but have long forgone. Bright eyes that see with a love of the world that is so far unblemished and perfect in its belief. A body that is still small enough to envelop, but not for much longer. As has always been with her, a certainty of self that often dwarfs my own. That is what her father has given her, and if I have imparted kindness to her than that is enough for now.

Blue



Greetings from Ghost Sister

Happy Halloween!

It's all smooth sailing from here

Grow old with me!  The best is yet to be.  ~Robert Browning

Our Tosh turns twenty-one! I remember thinking, when he was born, about how cool it would be to be such a young mom - when he turns eighteen I will only be thirty-six! The years since then have been swift and cloudless, the way I think of my own childhood. It always seemed if I couldn't recall any difficulty or stress or hairy moments, then it must have been a damn good time. 

I wonder what Tosh thinks when looking back at his childhood. Was it as good as I remember it for him? Does he remember laughing? Does he remember making tiny bike ramps and struggling to drop in? Does he remember hikes and snuggling on the couch?

In many ways I grew up with Tosh. Being his mom gave me the opportunity to be a grown up shall we say, at an accelerated pace. In that way my mind plays tricks sometimes, when I can't separate moments of my youth from his. But that is okay, because it reminds me that he has been part of me the longest, and I have always been grateful to know and love this sweet, loving, happy boy who is still the same, only now a man. Happy Birthday Tosh!