by Lynaea
on March 18, 2013
Green Thrift, and Other Patrickian Musings. Briefly.
St. Patrick’s Day came and went with a quick green nod. Snap, crackle, pop…the end. Over Rover. Which is typically how The Day goes at my house. But. I promise myself that next year I’ll actually look forward to celebrating it, instead of whining about late winter and mud. Because think about it Lynaea…St. Patrick’s Day is a gift, a timely invitation to abandon cold season doldrums to laughter and whimsy. Which invitation I almost missed this year…The day before The Wearing Of The Green, I was suddenly seized with grandiose refashion schemes involving a thrifted skirt and hoarded fabric. Schemes that (if I’d started reasonably early) would have resulted in the most lovely emerald outfit, but (since I didn’t start reasonably early) almost sucked me into a pointless creative OCD vacuum. Luckily, I escaped. Two lovely leprechauns (hello Melody and Marissa) showed up to befriend Maurya and make merry with the rest of us…they helped assemble and eat salads and even washed dishes, and took in (and commented on) countless episodes of “Dr. Who” with us.
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by Lynaea
on March 16, 2013
Finding A Happy Place
What do you reach for when you need comfort, when you want passage to a happy place?
Do you grab a book? Turn on a movie? Rummage for chocolate? Me too (though lately, I’m rummaging for pumpkin seeds and raisins instead of chocolate–and my movie collection misses me). I have also learned to look for a Happy Place on little jaunts outside—preferably daily jaunts outside, where I find my favorite comfort vistas. A comfort vista, to me, is way more potent and lasting than comfort food.
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by Lynaea
on March 11, 2013
Don’t Worry, Be Happy
We have four sump pumps in our crawlspace because we live in a seasonal swamp, and we don’t want our house to pop up and float away. I’m not entirely sure the sump pumps will keep us from sinking though. We’ve got our fingers crossed on that scenario. Particularly since the seasonal swamp we live in is situated very, very near a fault line.
I say seasonal swamp…tis the season. It is mud time here. Winter is leaving mud in its wake, like it always does as it takes its last bows. I love that spring is in the wings, I do. And there was plenty to love about winter this year…the frost and snow were enchanting, ethereal, inspiring. But I’m feeling just a little conflicted about the mud.
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by Lynaea
on March 8, 2013
On Wanting to Dance (or reaching for Happy)
In a bit of a funk and reaching for some way to be happy the other day, my eyes fell on this purplish skirt hanging in my closet. It was like recognizing the face of a friend in a crowd on a lonely day. I eagerly grabbed it. Wearing it, I feel graceful. I feel free. I feel…like sweeping my legs in a battement tendu, or throwing myself into a grande jete. Even though I’m not a dancer, and had no idea, until a moment ago, of what a battement tendu was (thanks Google, and “Ballet for Dummies”). [continue reading…]
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by Lynaea
on March 6, 2013
My Sister’s Pig—Leah Wilcox Tells a Pig Story
(source= chaimai.com…or stoned pig)
I’m about to share a short story. A true one, with only minor embellishments. It was written by my sister, Leah Wilcox
, who actually is a published author (which should be ample incentive to read on). Leah lives on ten acres in Central Oregon in a house she built with her husband. She has four kids, and a few animals. One of the finer joys of my life is my correspondence with her. We both love to write; I feel smarter and funnier in her company, and I think I may be a living writing prompt for her. Though not in this story.
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by Lynaea
on March 5, 2013
Just Another Manic Monday. Don’t Worry, Be Happy Now.
I’ve mentioned, here and there, my wrestlings with depression. I say wrestlings knowing darn well that I’m no Jacob, and my adversary is no angel. But I kinda wish I were a warrioress of biblical proportions, with long, lean muscles, indomitable red braids, and a stern, penetrating gaze. And I really, really wish a more angelic depression would wipe its brow, sigh, and say (preferably no later than this coming Friday), “Yeah, you bested me. I’m done for. Wasn’t sure you could, wow, who knew. Well. Here’s a ladder. So you can–you know–swing from a star, babe. Carry moonbeams home in a jar.”
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by Lynaea
on March 2, 2013
Homemade Dress-Up and Sister Tickling
I made a dress for my littlest daughter. I wanted to take pictures of her in it. She happily donned the dress and started posing pleasantly enough, but. Something someone said somehow set her off, and the photo shoot turned into a pout session/tickle fest. Eventually, after snuggling and serving a nice snack, I snapped sweet shots of my sugar darlin in her homemade dress….though I seriously don’t regret the photos of her in her moment (I love them all, actually). I promised I’d share more of these images, along with a pictorial tutorial of the outfit…
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