Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Last week we went to Mouseland
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Garden Update -- Spring Equinox
Broccoli, carrots, and onions in the long bed:
The peach, pear, apple, pomegranate, and fig trees:
The potato box:
Pole peas, peas and mint (would make a nice soup!), and bush peas:
Shallots and arugula:
Lettuce in the terraced bed and in a rolling deck bed -- under row covers because otherwise something eats it all!
Garlic in a rolling deck bed:
The peach, pear, apple, pomegranate, and fig trees:
The potato box:
Pole peas, peas and mint (would make a nice soup!), and bush peas:
Shallots and arugula:
Lettuce in the terraced bed and in a rolling deck bed -- under row covers because otherwise something eats it all!
Garlic in a rolling deck bed:
You can check out the progress a month makes by looking at last month's beds here :
And bonus points if you find the cat twice! He always follows me when I check on the gardens!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Friends
In the last month I have been fortunate to have two of my dear friends that I met in online mama groups visit. First Mo and her son L. came for an afternoon playdate. The kids had a good time doing some fabric painting -- the girls painted some new sundresses and L. painted a sun hat that his Mommy wore on her kayaking trip.
Then this past weekend Boo and her husband and their clan visited for an afternoon BBQ as they passed thru SoCal en route from Portland to Las Vegas. After dinner the kids had a fun time playing in the hot tub while the parents relaxed on the deck.
Thank you both M. and Boo for coming to my home and sharing your families with me! Love to both of you!
Then this past weekend Boo and her husband and their clan visited for an afternoon BBQ as they passed thru SoCal en route from Portland to Las Vegas. After dinner the kids had a fun time playing in the hot tub while the parents relaxed on the deck.
Thank you both M. and Boo for coming to my home and sharing your families with me! Love to both of you!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
My Daddy
...Is in the hospital with pneumonia. Please send all your healing energy and wishes that he may be home again soon.
Thanks friends.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
It's all French to me
Last night as we were getting ready for bed, the girls were brushing their teeth. The medicine cabinet was open and we had this conversation:
G: Mom, can I have some of your champagne?
M: What? What champagne, honey?
G: Up there. The champagne that's up there.
A: I think she means your perfume, Mother.
M: Oh, perfume, Greggie?
G: Yeah, perfume champagne. Can I have some, right here [pointing to the back of her neck].
M: Okay, I guess. Which one do you want?
So Greggie picked the Burberry and Alex picked the Jil Sander #4 and then they each had to have some of the other. And we all went to bed. I got to fall asleep in haze of my past scents. I think I'll stick with my essential oils from now on! Wheeeeew!!!!
Friday, March 6, 2009
Today
A Song For My Daughter
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold your dog, hold your cat,
Hold your sister too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold your Mama, hold you Dad,
Hold your Gramma too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold your home, hold your town,
Hold your country too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold the forest, hold the sea,
Hold the desert too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold the Earth, hold the Sky,
Hold all the stars too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold my heart, hold your dreams,
Hold all the hope there is.
Open them big, girl.
Make them go around.
Marlyn Marincas, March 5, 2009
Make them go around.
Hold your dog, hold your cat,
Hold your sister too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold your Mama, hold you Dad,
Hold your Gramma too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold your home, hold your town,
Hold your country too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold the forest, hold the sea,
Hold the desert too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold the Earth, hold the Sky,
Hold all the stars too.
Open them big.
Make them go around.
Open your arms wide, girl.
Make them go around.
Hold my heart, hold your dreams,
Hold all the hope there is.
Open them big, girl.
Make them go around.
Marlyn Marincas, March 5, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
They go to sleep SO differently
Alex falls asleep slowly, gently, gradually; she fades out, drifts away. Gregorie is the Tasmanian devil one moment and snoring the next. Wham bam, sound asleep. Alex is like a radio with a twist dial for volume and on/off -- she twists all the way to super low and then clicks off. Greggie is like a gas burner with electric ignition -- in order to get to off, she has to pass through high and IGNITE!
"I'm wild! I'm wild! I AM WILD!!! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"
Breathe
When I stepped outside this morning, our gardens smelled like a redwood forest! The heavy rains of yesterday and the overnight had released the aromas from our grove of small sequoias (we have dawn, giant and coastal). I stepped back into the house to get a book and then went and sat on our meditation bench and read:
I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease ... observing a spear of summer grass.
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes ... the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume ... it has no taste of the distillation ... it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever ... I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath,
Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers ...loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration .. the beating of my heart ... the passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and the dark-colored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belched words of my voice ... words loosed to the eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses ... a few embraces ... a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,
The feeling of health ... the full-noon trill ... the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass
I celebrate myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease ... observing a spear of summer grass.
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes ... the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume ... it has no taste of the distillation ... it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever ... I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath,
Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers ...loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration .. the beating of my heart ... the passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and the dark-colored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belched words of my voice ... words loosed to the eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses ... a few embraces ... a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,
The feeling of health ... the full-noon trill ... the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass
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