tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87901782501413433972024-03-05T11:55:56.822-08:00lucky little warriorsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-67057148589585546052014-08-10T19:27:00.000-07:002014-09-22T10:17:17.517-07:00"If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough"I imagine there comes a point in every one's life where it becomes necessary to draw upon an inner strength you never knew you had, simply because there is no other choice. <br />
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I don't know if this place is the same for everyone. For me it was almost holy, meditative, a sacred space, & also, like being engulfed in fire. It was going so far inside myself that I was floating above. <br />
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From there, we looked like two birds locked in a bubble, holding hands & I had fallen & I was hot, very hot. & the fact that I was hot seemed to be the easiest feeling to grasp beyond your hands not letting go. Everything loud & unbearably vivid, & also, trance-like.<br />
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I don't remember if my eyes were open or closed, & I don't remember what the people talking to me said, only that there was a voice reverberating from within telling me to breathe, breathe, though I was panicked, & your hands were warm. & still, I don't understand & I understand at once how one can be so calm & so scared simultaneously. <br />
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The calm told me "if a woman can birth a baby, you can do this." & I did, though honestly, I had no other choice. You will find you can do anything if you will it, especially when you're pushed past your limits.<br />
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I'm sure it wasn't that graceful. I'm sure I was more like a deer, panic-stricken by the sudden oncoming of headlights & then - slam of metal - & there was definitely a lot of profanity involved &, I heard tell, I was a demanding ass of a passenger on my first ambulance ride. (I'm sorry, dear helpers, whoever you are. You were saints & I was out of my mind).<br />
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I'm not telling this because I want you to feel sorry me. Everyone deals with hardship in one form or another, no one is immune to life's unexpected accidents. I'm telling it because I've always written, because it's my way of problem-solving. & it helps to share, helps to know that others might find some familiarity in my words, or else, that they might see something entirely new because of them.<br />
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I'm telling this because sometimes it's as if I'm transported back to that moment where I plummet, again and again and again.<br />
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& that, I've got to let go of. Because I know, deep down in that sacred space, that there is no winning if fear is in control. so, I must find that inner calm & learn to cradle it, learn to be it. <br />
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I'm telling this because I have no choice, it has to come out.<br />
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Sometimes I feel like I have lived a thousand lives, & in this one I am still a child - eyes wise & wild. still, I am old enough to know, I know nothing at all. But I'm learning. I know that time moves differently depending on the day. Know it's possible to be both happy & sad, brave & scared. & that's called being human. Or better, that's called being.<br />
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& I like this being thing. No matter what life throws. I know I am lucky, & loved. I know I can be brave. I know that whatever I desire resides within me, that I have the power to will it if I really want it.<br />
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On Friday, after 2+ months of being wheelchair bound I stood. & then I walked with Ursula's walker & my new leg-braces. & believe-you-me, I was beyond scared, but I did it anyway. Because I know that everything I want is a step outside my comfort zone.<br />
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& I am willing. With each slow step, I will walk outside my comfort zone, & then I will dance.<br />
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& that's Redbrick fire, & it's fueled by me & it's fueled by you. & for that, I am thankful.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-86338842104807252642014-05-08T19:15:00.000-07:002014-05-08T19:15:30.880-07:00"I think of the trees & how easily they let go"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #222222; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I drove South with tears in my eyes, Lorde crooning loudly as the drops fell. I cried for a loss of love, a loss of control. I cried out of fear, of being such a tiny girl in this big old world. & when my eyes couldn't continue, the sky took up the task. a soul cleansing. what a release, to let go. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; line-height: 20px;">this past year has been a huge lesson in desire vs action. because, baby, I've had dreams. grand beautiful dreams of mountainsides & farmlands, of Portland, & holding one man's hand 'til the end. but a dream isn't enough, no, a dream is just a pretty thing. there has to be action.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">it all came undone. one after another those pretty little dreams fell to the ground like moths with over-beaten wings. how it hurt, how I felt felled. & still, the world seemed achingly bright & clear, like a North Carolina springtime early in the day, after a fresh rain. so startlingly vivid, so alive.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; line-height: 20px;">I left swimming sea turtle blue walls & the home we had built filled with all those memories, all that love & all that ache. or, more, I was a baby bird, fallen fresh from the nest. & I was welcomed with open arms by Ian & Maggs to a house on the lake, way out in the country. I can't explain my gratitude, it is endless. because there, in their warm embrace, on the silence of the lake, with the pottery wheel, & all those deer, & the wind whispering & howling, & the music always playing, & my limbs wildly dancing, I was healed.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">see, I've been dancing the dance of the grouse & talking with the wind. I quit my job. I sought solace in the medicinal powers of music. I went to every live show that presented itself. I was cleansed in mud at Shakori Hills, song after song beating through my bones, rain falling down. & I was warm, fire burning inside my soul despite the outside cold. & in Asheville, Moses Sumney made the crowd go "shhhh" & our breath looped & looped & chills crept over my body, my heart bared on my chest for when Local Natives took the stage & wooed me. then in Greensboro, Yo Mama's Big Fat Booty Band taught my limbs to dance in a way I never knew I could. see, through music, I've been freed. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; line-height: 20px;">today I am in Florida, learning to be present, to live in the moment. when the sun sets, I sit in the grass with the pup, watch the trees, listen to the breeze.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; line-height: 20px;">I don't know where I'm going, I don't have a plan. one of my current mantras is "I think of the trees & how easily they let go" & I am trying hard to follow it, to hand over the reins & trust that if I follow my love, this magical universe will guide me. </span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-1194679075675591452013-11-04T07:49:00.003-08:002013-11-04T08:41:21.320-08:00to ponyboy.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
November came with warm rain in sheets, my favorite tree on fire in the backyard, and all the other trees around her too, showing off their spectacular colors. The dogs on constant squirrel watch, ears perked, noses twitching. The squirrels wary of the hunt.<br />
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Just yesterday our tree was wreathed in a ruby crown; today her leaves gust-by-gust giving way to bare limbs, reminding me to always keep my perspective moving.<br />
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<a href="http://luckylittlewarriors.blogspot.com/2013/07/everyday-magic.html" target="_blank"><img alt="spring" border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmy6S1aYAmawGE15WPnSNVLsWuDeTeu-XVr_Z-ndBpe2WhpVujB_RTpanAo0NjqFYhbzyA4ow5erHcU64ldq8gr1Z0F4pAhLHyTtaHalpaGXzO4EsZZ_EliGwUFUJIWj5WCqviKsoXeQ/s640/hope.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I'm changing. I feel like I'm growing so fast that my bones might push past my fingertips at any moment. It used to be I would get so caught up on my past actions that I'd become stagnant, laden in guilt and regret. But mistakes are human, and we can either render them useless or allow ourselves to learn from them, to ensure that in the future we are who we want to be.<br />
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And so connections that I let slip, I will spark again. And if I want something, I will work towards it. And if I don't like something, I will work to change it. And if I can't change it, I will change my attitude.<br />
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Everyday I battle these human flaws: jealously, anger, selfishness, laziness. Everyday I recognize them, accept them, use them as a practice in patience, kindness, selflessness and self-reliance. Everyday I fail and succeed, and that's just fine.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-74402230056154731502013-10-02T10:31:00.001-07:002013-10-03T10:16:59.947-07:00a change of seasons.the end of Summer came in a solar flare. my first ever booth at a festival. Tate St. Festival to be exact, with my eccentric, creative, beautiful friends. we rocked it through the rain on the streets of my college town, my mom & niece & Max & pals there to support us. love everywhere. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/luckylittlewarriors" target="_blank">Lucky Little Warriors </a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/pressink?ref=l2-shopheader-name" target="_blank">Press Ink</a></div>
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<a href="http://sarareynolsd.com/home.html" target="_blank">Sara Reynolds</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/CharcoalSalamandar" target="_blank">Angelina Rodriguez</a> <br />(Photo above was taken by Lina)</div>
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It's been so awesome launching Lucky Little Warriors. my family & friends & even strangers have been so incredibly supportive. I am beyond thankful for them, their support is the fuel that keeps me chugging along. it feels so good to be creating on a regular basis, & to know I have a tribe of warriors at my side, pushing me forward. thank you, thank you, thank you.<br />
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I feel myself more connected with the changing seasons this Autumn, &
also, I feel like maybe the planets are dancing some funky dance
throwing everything out of whack. It is exciting & scary. I feel
wildly ambivalent; happy & sad & loved & full of love &
scared & positively pumped. <br />
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This past week has been one big test after another, & with patience & thought & ultimately the magic within myself & the humans I surround myself with, I'm proud to say I passed. It is a wonderful gift to have friends to hash it out with. who are understanding & forgiving when I speak in anger. who remind me to speak in love. who dance like maniacs with me into the night, music beating in our bones when words just won't suffice<br />
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this life is beautiful. nothing is guaranteed. nothing constant but the ever changing seasons. this used to scare the daylight out of me, but now it reminds me I am glowingly alive. & for that I am thankful.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-38522045921520448912013-09-12T13:45:00.000-07:002014-09-22T11:22:10.096-07:00lucky little warriors.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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everywhere I go is different than the place I imagined. and I love that.<br />
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I stopped wishing to create every day, and started creating. at maggie's farmhouse, down in her pottery studio, I learned to use her wood-burning tool and fell in love.<br />
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I carved pictures with fire across the crepe myrtle discs I had sawed from my favorite tree. I didn't want to stop. honestly, I haven't since. Maggie's borrowed tool in hand, I have been feverishly creating trinkets for tate st. fest and my new etsy store.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/luckylittlewarriors" target="_blank">lucky little warriors</a></span></div>
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it started out a love letter to Max. I'm sure if I dug around in our
boxes and baskets I would find it still, a simple love note I wrote one
day and left on the coffee table for him to find. lucky little
warriors, I called us. and I meant, we are fighters in the only way
fighting can be good; pure, positive force. love. and I meant, count your
blessings. be grateful.</div>
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I am lucky. to have such creative, eccentric, inspiring friends around me. grateful Maggie invites me over to create with her, and then allows me to borrow her things. (I promise you, I'm getting my own wood-burning tool soon, Maggs)<br />
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I am lucky. to have friends who invite me to share booths with them at craft fairs because they believe in me. to have people in my life who encourage me (big shout out to my Aunt Debbie for being my first sale on etsy, your support means the world to me). </div>
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I am so happy, every day I create something new. every day I am encouraged and excited. I am doing what I've always dreamed about doing but didn't have the guts or the gusto to do it. I am fighting my laziness, my doubts. I'm making the best of these days I'm given. and baby, it feels good.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-76335052228665228582013-08-21T09:57:00.002-07:002013-08-21T09:58:48.361-07:00mountain scale.sometimes, I get so caught up in the dream, the <i>idea</i> of how I imagine life should be, that I forget to sit back and appreciate life as it is. <br />
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we drove to the mountains, my best friend Caro & I, for a wedding of a friend from high school. Kaela was a stunning bride, & we danced & laughed & maybe cried just a smidgen, as she glowed down the aisle. & before we knew it the night was over, & we curled up in our hotel room & just talked. a sigh of relief.<br />
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I have always kept too much in, a wallflower. I've never liked to cause a commotion, & I mostly like to listen more than I like to talk. but with Carolyn conversation comes easy. it felt so nice talking to her, tucked cozy in our beds.<br />
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our talks opened the flood gates, & when I got home, I broke. it all came rushing out, every little silly thing that's been bothering me. mind you, I've been sick for what feels like forever now, & I'd been lacking in sleep, so it wasn't eloquent. but afterward, when it was all out, with Max's arms around me, I felt like I had been cleansed. it was just the medicine I needed.<br />
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mountains have always had a good way of putting everything into perspective. & so maybe my dream life looks a little different than expected right now. doesn't mean I can't love it with all I've got. I hope you're loving your life with all you've got, too. 'cause there's beauty everywhere, if you look for it. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-20670181443481980322013-07-24T17:15:00.001-07:002013-07-24T17:15:15.825-07:00floating<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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this week has been all flower crowns, winged things & rivers, summertime. we floated down the Dan twice in three days. I love that river, the way the light sparkles upon her surface then glows beneath. the rocks, smooth & jagged. the butterflies & dragonflies following us downstream, dancing around us, briefly landing. there is a peace she brings to me, reminds me I'm just a little thing in a stream. <br />
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we stopped on an island & built rock towers that glittered in the sun, all mica & sand, the waters rustling around us. with no camera, I etched the day into my mind. serenity.<br />
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as I floated, trusting her to carry me gently, safely, I thought about a time, not so long ago, when I was on the farm at Bonnaroo with a family of friends. in reality, the river & the farm are incomparable. but they both brought upon me the same self-awareness, made me search my soul for truths to stack high & hold tight. I treasure both places dearly, keep their memories close to my heart. am beyond thankful at my life & the beauties I experience.<br />
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with that being said, no words I could write about Bonnaroo would do it any justice, the place was far too magical, too separated from every day life & the standard rules & expectations of society. it was freedom in a field, full of music & beauty & love. I'll let the pictures do the talking.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-58096053802495348972013-07-16T12:33:00.000-07:002013-07-16T12:39:13.741-07:00life & science<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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there are some days that seem to make all the rest of them worth it, that fill me up 'til I'm brimming with love and creativity, grinning from ear to ear like the cheshire cat. <br />
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Max and I took Emma to the museum of life and science, a place I have been many times, though not in a long, long time. It was perfect, my little niece no longer a chunky toddler, all limbs and courage, running through each exhibit like it was on fire, eager to explore it all. <br />
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Emma, you climbed to the top of the rock wall then said, "help." I was already there, and without another word, without checking to see if I was ready, you let go and leaned back. A trust fall right into my arms. I am constantly amazed at your daring. And later, when you got a splinter in your foot, you insisted it was you who would pull it out, tweezers in your tiny hands trying and trying and trying. It's hard, as an adult, to step back and let kids work things out for themselves sometimes. I caught myself getting frustrated, waiting as your hands slipped and shook, wanting so badly to just get it out for you. But that is a mistake made too often by adults, undermining the ability of kids. I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm so proud of how independent you were then, how confident you were in your skill. I hope that confidence is something you carry with you always, because you are something special girl.<br />
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my whole day was this way, surrounded by one special person after the next. first Max and Emma, and then my best friends Carolyn, Rob, Chad, and later Sara.<br />
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I feel electric around these folks, wired. when I'm with them I forget to feel the way I do most days: awkwardly quiet and shy, clumsy limbs and tangled tongue. around them I feel free, full of energy. we laughed and ate good food and it felt so good.<br />
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and afterwards, with full bellies, we went back to Chad and Sara's enchanting home where the boys talked and talked while Sara and I crafted. their house inspires me, the people who live there inspire me. It was therapeutic there, sitting on the floor with Sara, vintage national geographic photographs spread around us, Sara's talented hands stitching together blocks of color, my own smudged in oil pastels. we shared our thoughts on this whole experience, on finding a dream and following it, on bumps in the roads turned learning lessons. on the difficulties of legos and the ease of paper. we stayed too late, drove home with eyes drooping. but I didn't mind, waking up for work tired was worth it because moments like that, surrounded by such beauty, are what I live for.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-18056481621303394612013-07-14T13:27:00.001-07:002013-07-14T13:54:33.522-07:00everyday magicIt has been so long since I last posted, so much has happened.<br />
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Sumpter, Madison, and Montana moved in on a rain-laden day in a whirlwind; boxes piled in every corner of the house, inside and out, only one little path to walk, and then we worked until the wee hours of the morning, painting and unpacking. Piling our carport high with things to sell in the yard sale. Getting rid of so many personal possessions was like lifting one giant weight. We all got rid of so much, and yet, since they moved in, our lives have been filled. Always another soul around, both a blessing and a curse. On those rare occasions when I find myself at home alone I am almost overwhelmed by the silence, unsure what to do at first, wanting to do so many things.<br />
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I find myself like this often, filled with so many ideas, struggling to start anywhere. I want to craft, paint, blog, sew, sing, dance, and I do, I try. but I'd like to do more. I'm thinking of starting an etsy shop to post some things I have created (paintings, story stones, pendants) in the hopes that they can find good homes, add a little color to the lives of others. I'll share when it happens.<br />
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These are some pendants Madison and I painted for Bonnaroo, made of wood from the holly bushes we cut back in front of the house. <br />
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Speaking of crafting, Max's Mom gave me an antique sewing machine for my birthday, a beautiful machine that once belonged to his grandmother (or maybe great grandmother..). This past week, my Mom came to visit and we sat together setting up the machine, working out the kinks until it was ready for action. It was peaceful, sitting there with my Mama, listening to her stories and her wisdom. I relished every second she was here, loved to be near her, to learn from her. I have saved all my old t-shirts, tucked under the bed, just waiting for me to learn to sew so that I can make a t-shirt quilt. Fingers crossed I'll be able to do it without Mama's watchful eye.<br />
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Life is chaotic and beautiful and tiring. It's not always easy. Some days I feel like the water levels have risen above my head and I am drowning, and other days I can cheerfully let the little things slide off my shoulders like droplets of water. I learn something new every day, practice patience and honesty, practice selflessness. I practice directing my energy towards the positive. I am lucky, every day. So lucky, to have a Mama to share with me her knowledge. To have Max's parents around for support when mine are far away. To have friends and family near and far, to have the love of the animals who share our home. I am lucky to have Max, lucky that he doesn't give up on me when I sit in the swamps boohooing about what's not going right. There is a lot that is right.<br />
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Our garden grows, and grows, and grows. The caterpillars eating the cabbage, ants swarming the strawberries, daikon radish and mums flowered heads towering high above it all, waving the butterflies welcome. There's something so satisfying about getting your hands and knees grubby in the garden, it makes me feel like I am accomplishing something worthy, something that gives back.<br />
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Our garden lentils, ready for eating.<br />
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Life is good, all it takes is a little reminder, a little positive thinking. What's good in your neck of the woods? What magic have you seen lately?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-1836021610107266862013-01-25T17:30:00.002-08:002013-07-14T11:51:57.302-07:00kids.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I crossed the parking lot of the school to lock-up, as Robert and his Dad began their journey home. As I walked in front of their little red van, Robert's dad joked "Oh no! I'm going to hit Miss. Amanda!" to which Robert replied "Don't do that! She's just a kid!"<br />
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I try and convince the kids I work with all the time that I am still a kid, though most refuse to believe it based on my age and size. But little Robert, four years old and full of wisdom, has no problem seeing past the physical.<br />
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Thank you Robert, for believing you're only as old as you act.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-15342211486275952062012-09-29T08:12:00.001-07:002012-09-29T08:12:44.151-07:00homosassa, home.in Florida, the fall breeze that had been dancing around us for days in NC was absent. summer was still present as we skated across the gulf coast on dad's boat, the pup happily hanging his head over the edge, right at home with his new owner. <br />
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donning snorkels, we caught scallops straight from the sands and sea grass, shucked them from the boat deck, then had them for dinner. the ultimate fresh.<br />
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we drove home in a quiet car, sporting newly acquired sunburns and smiles. a little part of me missing that big headed lab.<br />
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update from dad says "should have named him shadow, he follows me everywhere" and "he met all the neighborhood dogs. he's scared of the little ones." operation find pup a home, a success!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-65948957078387353712012-09-14T21:15:00.000-07:002013-07-14T11:54:11.365-07:00next ninja warrior.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Beckett stood at the bottom of the bounce house, thinking about (I imagine) the array of Ninja Warrior moves he might perform inside. he settled on teaching himself to run up the slide like the bigger kids were doing, his socked feet slipping and sliding, fingertips just touching the top of the slide before toppling down to the bottom. like a true warrior, he did not give up, and after unrelenting effort, he proudly accomplished what he set out to do, sat at the top grinning from ear to ear and then ran around the gym doing "flips" in celebration, legs kicking around, hands placed to the floors, pivoting. a new style of break dancing, training for something big. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-80879534517895110242012-09-13T21:32:00.002-07:002013-07-21T08:33:15.994-07:00reawwy?<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmJjuZOcPfz0pw0dFGevsXrqF5WNIv91vQQDM7JGo_d6uDcl5VDae7T-LtBwAjtY1srLeeYQu4q4M-V_kGhgA8_A1BAqsMiSZHkphw3np36IMeQVNoGbOpJsaWt7PLF62vMOqnA4Q2w/s640/photo(17).JPG" width="640" /><br />
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outside with little Isabelle, she asks me "who came first, you or your mom?" spontaneously adding, "I rode in a limo once." she tells me about a wedding she went to where there was no cake, then tells me about her mom's wedding, when she was still in the belly. she tells me there was cake there, though she didn't get to eat any. Isabelle asks "who is the first person in Winston-Salem?" then clarifies, "who was <i>born </i>first?" a question I can't answer. she's fresh back from a trip to California to see her cousin. she claims she's going back in ten days. "one of my best friends just moved there," I tell her. "reawwy?" she asks, "can I speak wif her?"<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-76338633917519731612012-09-12T22:58:00.000-07:002013-07-14T11:59:17.701-07:00kid stuff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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at camp hanes, I took a workshop titled "the great escape" by the fabulous Jen De Ridder which was all about keeping your inner child alive by laughing, eating dessert first some nights, breaking silly societal rules, wearing mismatched socks, and getting plenty of play.<br />
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it was such a wonderful workshop, I took it twice.<br />
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I get to play often, I'd like to say I'm pretty in touch with my inner kid. And though some weeks (like this week) I feel swamped down with adult work, I always have those moments that make that stress seem to dissipate. <br />
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These pictures are from my beautiful niece Emma's birthday party. I love them, despite the burn effect on the film, each photo glimpsing in at the magical world of play these girls created, an innocent place, a happy place.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-41093626561566626532012-09-10T21:53:00.003-07:002013-07-14T12:03:41.447-07:00hidden cliffs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took a journey up to hidden cliffs with some ladies and one gent,
practiced patience, calmed my inner fire raring to race up the mountain,
slowed my pace to match that of the others. at first, it was hard, my body ticking and humming, ready to run. but slowly, finally, I found myself encouraging those
who felt like giving up with the guidance of Linda. <br />
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we were rewarded with the view. a rainbow beaming in the temporary sun-spot, the rock cooling me, wet from the rains. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-38107451982768094942012-09-06T17:12:00.001-07:002013-07-14T12:04:59.056-07:00little mermaid.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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my little mermaid,<br />
<br />
this year you turned four. the ways you've changed! you used to be a little butterball, nothing but rolls for days. even then you were fiery and independent. I wanted to keep you that roly poly bundle of baby, but you blossomed and I've loved every moment of it.<br />
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when I come see you, we play house in your room. you tell me the rules and what to say and how to act, and I mostly comply and laugh at your spunk until we are both tired. we curl up in your bed and create stories from our heads about mermaid princesses and rainbows and the magical lands they live in. you get embarrassed when you suggest the princesses have boyfriends, and take it back almost immediately. "never mind," you say, "I was just kidding."<br />
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your silly comment reminds me that you will grow, and grow, and grow like Jack's beanstalk, and there's no stopping it. you won't stay like this forever, and that's ok. if we can't keep you this way, we'll instead water your roots, grow you with love and creativity so that you'll stand true and tall in the sun, proud of who you've become. I'm so lucky to have you little girl.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-64942382143362437082012-09-06T16:56:00.002-07:002013-07-14T12:06:16.524-07:00our laughter kept the feathers in the air.I have been silent these last few days. not because I didn't have words but because I've been struggling for time.<br />
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Tuesday night I got to see my oldest friend, Julie, and a college friend, Julia, in Chapel Hill. Julie was in town from California, where she just recently moved. it was so lovely seeing them, they are both filled with such intellect and passion that the entire night was spent problem-solving, asking <i>why </i>a whole lot, trying to understand the civilization we've built up.<br />
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I am reminded of a time when Julie and I were wee little Freshmen in college. we came up with an idea: what if the universe is a joke? every time you laughed you'd get a little bit closer to understanding it. so we made a point to laugh a whole lot. I'm still not sure about the great answer to the universe, but I think the laughing thing helped anyway.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-52963825556424944062012-09-03T20:49:00.001-07:002012-09-03T20:53:51.338-07:00and ewes.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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we pulled into our driveway, bellies full from lunch, and lurked in Max's car, laughing because we're both so silly. outside, the rain beat on the world around us, showered the land and our house, washed the fog-curtained windshield. we watched for a while, then raced through the rains inside. simple things.<br />
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how lucky we are to have each other. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-46950583465584176112012-09-02T12:11:00.000-07:002013-07-14T12:07:47.399-07:00eclectic tubas, warm house<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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last night we ventured to my old stomping grounds of Chapel Hill for the lovely Sara and Chad's house warming party. their place is magical, covered in art work and christmas lights. I got to meet some of the family they've made from all the shows they travel to, so many charming people. some people I feel I've known for years.<br />
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there was the most fantabulous live band by the name of Matt Owen and the Eclectic Tuba. the photo above is miss Sara dancing during their amazing set. I danced what felt like the entire night, donning a Native American headdress, warrior-paint, and "fireworks glasses" that turned all the lights into a spray of colors dancing around with me. I can't remember the last time I danced so freely. best night. thanks Chad and Sara.<br />
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(these last two pictures were taken using the fireworks goggles as a filter.)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-88651830473551086822012-08-31T20:39:00.003-07:002012-09-03T20:54:49.261-07:00honeywoke from good dreams. spent my morning laughing in the office, then took a little break at my favorite coffee shop, Krankies. read my book on homesteading and made notes on everything from edible plants in the wild to types of ducks and/or chickens to raise. this makes me very excited, I hope we have a water source on our land so that we can raise ducks! also read about beekeeping, which sounds difficult but worth it. honey and duck. mmm. these are a few of my favorite things.<br />
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favorite moments at school: singing "some nights" with Caila. little pre-k twins Lily and Miller being absolutely silly, adamant that Wake and Wake Forest were two completely separate teams. playing "concentration" with Zakaiya to stop her sulking because she was the last kid left at after-school.<br />
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watched Paka (Max's grandma with alzheimers) after work, with both the sweet pups as company. read my magical book Wizard's First Rule while listening to Annie in the background (hands down my favorite musical soundtrack). Max came by and cooked us the best yakisoba. it was perfect.<br />
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happy friday folks.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-13689855657768375222012-08-30T20:56:00.002-07:002013-07-14T12:14:31.977-07:00squirrel songtoday my love and I woke up early and spent our morning together, cleaning the house, endlessly throwing a ball for the sweet, sweet pup we're temporarily housing (while the lazy hound dog slept). mornings together are not something we have gotten in a good while. it was nice to start my day being productive with my Maxwell (and it did wonders on the energy of the house).<br />
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other things that filled my day with joy: Caroline's hugs. what a sweet girl. she makes a point, every day, multiple times throughout the day, to give me a hug. so I made a point today to let her know how much I appreciated that. she has a golden heart, which last year often lead her to getting overly emotional about everyday things. this year she seems to have matured, and I have yet to see her get upset over something silly. it's good to see her growth, good to see her confident and happy.<br />
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I made a mistake today. a careless mistake. last year one of our counselors taught the kids two songs that go hand-in-hand: brown squirrel and dead squirrel. the kids go wild over these songs. today, I asked what song we should sing, and a couple kids gave those two songs as the response, so we sang them. it was loads of fun, we shook our bushy tails and struck a dead pose. not two minutes after we finished, as the groups were gathering their things to be on their merry way, Sakshi approached me with concern to let me know that Lylaani was crying. I immediately sat beside Lylaani and asked her what was wrong.<br />
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her leaky eyes locked with mine and she spilled "my grandma just died". doh. I wanted to smack myself over the head. instead I hugged her and tried my best to let her know I understood, to let her know that death, although scary, doesn't have to be a bad thing. that it was ok to cry, to be sad. that she could keep her in her heart, always. it pains me to see little ones experience death, just as it does to see anyone lose a friend. but death is a fact of life, and I hope that we can all learn to see it as something different, but not <i>bad.</i> <br />
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because different is beautiful. different is a new adventure, an electric idea.<br />
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different are children like Sakshi, who care for others, seek out help when they don't know what to do. it's not the first time she's shown this much compassion for the well-being of another student. I didn't get a chance today to let her know what brilliant virtue that is, but it won't be forgotten. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-35038693484224050242012-08-29T19:00:00.001-07:002012-09-03T20:55:07.239-07:00and pup makes five.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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we have a new friend at our house, a sweet black lab/german shepherd mix. He is a bundle of energy, perfect at fetch, listens really well. not sure if he's staying, but for tonight he's under our roof instead of in a kill shelter. <br />
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yesterday, a child who in the past was reluctant to make friends with others, found a friend in a middle schooler. When I first saw them, they were sitting on the floor eagerly sharing their mutual love of dirt bikes and fishing, unaware of their age difference. today, Tyler approached me to say, "when you see that boy in fourth grade, tell him I said hey." Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-40594698703946682352012-08-28T23:30:00.000-07:002013-07-14T12:16:07.974-07:00lion man, too.in a year and a half time, I will load up my belongings and move across country with Max, his best friend Sumpter, and the lovely Madison. Max calls them life-partners, bonded together by those little fibers. I wouldn't trust the journey so fully if it weren't for them. for the unique skills we each bring to the table. we will make our home out of shipping containers in the Colorado foothills, and we will thrive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKR34Nve1WfWQMlxiaVzoNDE3n0kRoWYLFsD-tctubtNxnPFFFyRKN8tpymqh-hZz0lh2l7_8qWBZfdeM_QTv1DgwnMqJIc_UcIumurXf1gBnX7EqxUGWsCru5PmF3m5nc5CcDMXVE1Q/s1600/IMG_0805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKR34Nve1WfWQMlxiaVzoNDE3n0kRoWYLFsD-tctubtNxnPFFFyRKN8tpymqh-hZz0lh2l7_8qWBZfdeM_QTv1DgwnMqJIc_UcIumurXf1gBnX7EqxUGWsCru5PmF3m5nc5CcDMXVE1Q/s640/IMG_0805.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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these are the original blueprints, the original plan. but it's a changeling, our house growing new forms with new ideas, Sumpter meticulously planning down to the last detail what will be needed to go into our home. Madison and I both researching crops to grow, researching edible plants found in the wild, looking into sustainable living. all of us working hard, saving up to make the move.<br />
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I went to my favorite rooftop in Greensboro tonight with someone I'd consider a life-partner as well. at our favorite Irish pub, Ian and I shared our ideas on life and angels, ghosts, and magic. Ian is living proof that there is magic everywhere, that it's not always something seen with the eye, but felt within. he's helped me grow, made me believe.<br />
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tonight, Ian told me that in six months time he is following his twin sister across the lands to Colorado. my face lit up, to know that someone so important to me will be there with us, will be there working with us to make our dream come true. I honestly feel like we're working with a power team. I have never been so sure that something this far off was actually happening.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-3070523426520924772012-08-27T18:47:00.001-07:002013-07-14T12:20:17.883-07:00robots dancing in space<span style="font-size: small;">back to school we all went. so many familiar faces, the growth-marks of a summer, past. I welcomed back so many old friends and met new minds too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">one of my old friends, Rowan, is joining us again this year, a fresh kindergartener excited to be out of his pre-k group and in with the "big kids" playing on the big playground. one of my favorite moments last year was during some one-on-one time I had with Rowan. we were problem-solving what a person should do when they are sad. Rowan suggested going to your mom. he said that always worked for him. I asked him if it was possible to become happy if Mom wasn't around. his initial answer was an instant "no". but then he seemed to mull the question over, a smile growing over his face. "there is this one thing," he said, "sometimes, if I'm really sad, I sing a song I made up called Robots Dancing in Outer Space." he then proceeded to sing this song, which turned out to be a lot like beat-boxing, while dancing inside the safety of the cone-lined path through the school parking lot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">today, as Rowan sat at the bottom of the slide, I asked miss Kelsey to please not climb up the slide, as is one of the playground policies. Rowan immediately stepped in saying, "just let her be, she's having fun."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">although I understand why my company puts certain policies on the playground, Rowan's comment still made me smile in agreement. I wanted to let Kelsey climb that slide, just as I think the kids should be able to run around barefoot and monkey-climb the trees. don't worry boss, safety is still my number one priority, and I enforce such rules because I know it insures the bare minimum of accidents. still, I can't wait to share the joy and the pain of the world with my own child, allow them to take risks, help them stand back up, brush the dirt from the knee-scrapes, clear the tears with kisses, applaud them when they try again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">this is a photograph I took of a Mama teaching her youngling the proper technique to cleaning feet at the NC zoo. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8790178250141343397.post-31380600014314712732012-08-26T17:44:00.002-07:002013-07-14T12:21:44.343-07:00pack-life<span style="font-size: small;">Carolyn and Rob came and stayed the night last night. it is so refreshing having them around, they remind me of where I've come from and where I have to go. I feel as if we are bound together for life by little silver threads lacing our shirttails together, glittering with a light dust of snow. they make me laugh. I am thankful that they are still only two hours away, that we still have a long while before we're separated by a long stretch of land and mountains. I am certain that, even when that day comes, our silver threads will stretch across the distance, resilient.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">after brunch with them today, we parted ways. Fall is almost here, the breeze infectious, pulling me outdoors. Sadie and I went up to High Point City Lake and walked the trails, listened to the sand and stone crunch beneath our feet. I spotted endlessly marvelous types of flora, shiny marigold-mushrooms, felled trees, their limbs like antlers reaching skywards, a family of deer darting away in my peripheral. Sadie, not seeing them, but her nose catching the scent. the way she darted back and forth wildly in excitement. I can't wait until she has acres to run off leash, until she can explore it all with her trusty nose leading the way, a pack of dogs beside her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663353444445923686noreply@blogger.com0