i miss my garden...

You know... I've not taken a single picture of a flower since we moved here...

anyone know what this is?...

{ yes... i know i owe you a story... }

two'fer tuesday: the new job...

[ Voting is closed... ]

searching for normalcy...

When I saw the subject for this weeks Photo Friday challenge, I couldn't help but post this picture. What better way to find out how much junk you have than to pack it all up and move it half way across the continent. We're currently drowning in a sea of cardboard brown and, with the current levels of sleep deprivation, I'm willing to call it all junk at the moment...

in memphis, still no sleep...

We're here.

We're tired.

We have no stuff.

Photos and more are forthcoming...

Character

As a little girl, I often found myself standing in Granny's kitchen, playing with cookie dough. We lined up the balls of cookie dough on each tray, sprinkled bits of cinnamon on them, and watched them bake.

It was on one of those summer afternoons that I remember my Granny taking my hands in hers, stooping a little, and sharing something profound. Although my mouth was watering for the taste of chocolate chip cookies (and milk), I paused a moment to listen to her. Jennifer, you need to learn this lesson at an early age. You'll face many days ahead of you that are filled with questions, pain, and sometimes laughter. But in each case, you must find God in each thing. Look for what He wants to show you.

And while holding onto her leathery hands, we rolled a few more balls of dough together as she explained that making cookies was an example of how our lives are molded. You must push, press, and mold the dough into the shape you wanted, add the bits of sprinkles, and then wait as the heat from the oven finishes the job.

Character isn't something I normally think of when I bite into warm cookies, but when I remember that story- her wise words flood my mind. My character is certainly molded by times of questions, pain, and laughter. We've all been pushed, pressed, and molded. And I think we will agree that we've had plenty of the heat in our lives.

But the question is, will we become better because of it?

two'fer tuesday: c is for...

From: "{ mk }"
Subject: C is for Coleman, Clouds and Chocolate Chip Cookies. . .

I thought "The Letter C" might be fun. . . so here you go. . . please let me know if you'd like something else or if these will do.

Thanks again for thinking of me!

All my best,
Myla

[ Voting has closed. I'm in a hotel somewhere between here and there... ]

no sleep 'til memphis...

We're in the middle of moving the homestead. About to pack up the computer, finally...

Sorry for the silence...

seeing double...

{ ps... the buyers have (verbally) accepted our counter offer on the house... we should sign the papers today.. }

uprooted...

So how far do your roots go down? Mine have never gone very far in some respects. This house that we're leaving behind has been my home longer than any other. More over, it was the first home that was really mine. My money paid for it. My sweat equity saturates the deepest parts of it. Sure, the bank owned the greater portion, but they didn't really care about it... They didn't really want the house, or the land, or the memories. The bank only wanted my interest payment handed over on the first of each month and I was more than happy to pay them, but a house is not a home simply because I own the numbers on the mailbox.

But even roots that grow shallow still grow into tangles and knots. Roots crisscross from one tree to the next, seeking out nutrients and moisture. Sometimes when you dig a whole you can't tell which tree the roots are from. Sometimes when you uproot one plant, you take some small bit of root from its neighbor unawares. So goes life. If we're lucky/smart/blessed enough, we root ourselves not in material possessions, but in emotional connections. We tangle our lives up in the care/concern/joys of other lives. And when we're uprooted, sometimes we take a small part of them with us when we go.

ps. we've been told an offer on the house is forthcoming... should know more tomorrow... woohoo!

two'fer tuesday: recycled...

[ Voting has ended. You're too late.]

by the by...

Do check in on Coleman's website to hear all about his first Easter and view the indignities foisted upon him by his loving and well- meaning mother....

look who's talking...

Zak made a list of the top nine things he can't wait to say to his soon-to-be-newborn son. Here's my list of the top nine things I can't wait to hear Coleman say:

1. "Da-dee."


2. "I love you."


3. "Stop taking my picture."


4. "I don't know."


5. "Can I get baptized now?"


6. "You're embarrassing me."


7. "I want my own guitar."


8. "But mom said it was ok..."


9. "Can I borrow the car?"

Why only nine? This is where you come in. Leave a comment and let me know what you think should be number ten...

a gift for spring...

Happy Easter!

so good-bye yellow brick road...

what's that buzzing...

While I was out on my photo hunt Friday before last, I came across this friendly bumble bee in my neighbor lady's yard. He was more than a little distracted with his work at first, but the more I tried to take his picture, the more it became apparent he didn't want me around. Obviously my resolve to get a half-decent shot of him was stronger than his desire for my immediate departure.

Still, as I sat down to write about this photo, my mind kept drifting back to an earlier post. In the interest of saving time, you can read what I was thinking about then and hopefully see why I thought of it, by clicking here.

two'fer tuesday: the birds and the bees...

[Voting has ended...]

by the way...

Coleman turned four months old today....

Go leave him a birthday wish on his site: colemanblake.com.

just keep the tape rolling...

Sometimes you never know where an improvisation will go. Sometimes you find a gem. Sometimes you write songs about Johnny Cash that you later regret. (Don't ask) Sometimes you really wish you had plugged in the mini disc recorder. Sometimes you get lucky and the gem survives.

I started in to play a song I'd not rehearsed, which was my first mistake. I tried it immediately after another song with a similar chord structure, which was an even larger mistake. So I scrapped it and offered up an improvisation. I asked the audience for a topic, to which my friend Ryan was kind enough to shout back "War!" War. He wants me to make up a song on the spot about war?!?

Here's the resulting three minutes of fun... Judge for yourself: [ Salute ]

purple passion...

Do you realize that next Sunday is Easter? No? Did you realize that today was the begining of Daylight Savings Time? We didn't, either.

you sing because you must...

in open fields of wild flowers...

Photo Junkies : Pentax ZX-7 (with Tamron 28-200 lens, and a circular polarizer)