Now

{This series was inspired by my son's sixth grade english assignment

 of writing for six minutes, without edits or overthinking it.  

I'll be posting daily quick writes for the month of March.}

What is it all really about?  This life?  Family connections?  The stuff we acquire and then purge from our lives?

I feel like there are so many lessons in every day living and, to be quite honest, I don't think I've given much thought to them until I entered my fourth decade.  Before turning 40, I just lived my life without much examination.  Or, at least, it feels that way.

Having a child brings so many situations circling back to you to think about.  Parenthood is like this big mirror and you can either look away and start fresh with your views or take a minute and examine what's in front of you.  What are you bringing to the parenting table from your past?

As my son navigates his pre-teen years, it's becoming more clear to me that I'm parenting from a standpoint of been there, done that.  And I should quickly confess that it's easy right now.  I'm not gloating, but taking a moment to really let that sink in.  I know that hard stuff is coming and I'm trying to relish in the now.

Now he likes to spend the weekends with us.

Now is when he wants to watch silly DVDs and read books about Greek Gods & Goddesses.

Now the library is one of his favorite places to visit and grab a frozen yogurt and talk about his day.

Right now the wildest thing he wants to do is wear the same thing every. single. day.  But even that is morphing as of this week.  He finally relinquished his grey hoodie sweatshirt and I could not be happier.

Now he wants to share his art and play on his iPad.

Now is the time he practices his trumpet in his room before school.

I'm loving right now and feeling confident in my parenting.  I know that whatever the future holds, I'll be ready and until then?

I'm enjoying the now, too.

The Door to Independence

{This series was inspired by my son's sixth grade english assignment
 of writing for six minutes, without edits or overthinking it.  
I'll be posting daily quick writes for the month of March.}

Yesterday I caught a glimpse of the teenager that my son will be in a few years.  He glared at me, barked something about how I ruined his perfectly good day by enforcing trumpet practice and threw his prepubescent body on top of his bed and laid there in silent protest.

I walked away.

Took a few deep breaths and quietly chuckled to myself while chopping root vegetables that he will most likely push around on his plate during dinner.

It's coming.

He's almost 12 and the increased attitude and shift in him is happening right before my eyes.  Everyday he is recalibrating himself towards the man he will one day be.  Ratcheting up his opinions and pushing back when he doesn't want to do what we want him to do.  Forming opinions and testing limits.

I realize he's taking baby steps towards a great big door called Independence.  Leaving his mark and trying new things on for size are what's happening right now.  I'm here, not too far behind him, making sure he doesn't wobble too much or fall over.  Supporting him, acting as cheerleader and disciplinarian at the same time, has been my occupation for almost a dozen years.  I'm slowly starting to understand that right now he will need to scrape his knees a bit and brush himself off without me.  I know this is all normal and completely to be expected, but it's my first time, as well as my last time, going through this new phase with my only child.

The door to Independence is unlocked and ajar and he's approaching it with great speed.

I just know the man that will emerge on the other side is one I will be proud of.  However, I feel a weight of responsibility in making sure he has the necessary tools available to him to help open that door with strength of character and knowledge that he is loved by us.

I just wish he would take it a little slower.

28 Days of Play :: The Window for Play

My essay, The Window for Play, can be found over at You Plus Two Parenting's website.  I am the featured blogger today in the 28 Days of Play blogger series that focuses on play with our children.

I spent a lot of time reflecting on my early role as a mother and how I slowly figured things out.  Please hop on over here and read.  I'd love to hear your thoughts and keep the dialogue open about the hard parts of motherhood, as well as the good parts.

Happy Friday, friends.

January :: My Favorite Month

My favorite month of the year, January, is almost over.  So much has happened these past four weeks, while at the same time I feel some of that time was paused, leaving me feeling restored and rested.  Sounds like January has a little bit of a split personality, eh?  The first month of the year holds so much promise for me.  I have consciously slowed down, accomplished several home projects while working on Apartment Therapy's :: The January Cure for the third year in a row and I made an effort to get in the kitchen and cook healthier meals at home.  Yes, a good slow-down was definitely in order.

The first order of business was to carve out more time to read the printed word (not the internet).  The holidays tend to swallow me up and my brain is so full of tasks that need to be done that I can't focus on serious reading (or even reading for pleasure).  I couldn't even read a magazine during the month of December, so I'm jumping back into the habit and catching up on old newspapers, periodicals and New York Times Book Reviews.  I just finished reading my book club selection for the February meeting, A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes.

I found a new book that I fell in love with and I must share.  It's a graphic novel that I ordered from the library for Grady, but I was drawn in by the incredible story and beautiful, colorful graphics.  It was one of those books that I had to purchase for our home library.  Now, I'm pretty selective about what books I want to own and this one makes me incredibly happy.  I even purchased two more to gift to friends.  Funny, witty, dark, some curse words & a be-heading, but in the most wonderful way.  The Encyclopedia of Early Earth by Isabel Greenberg is a gem.  You can read NPR's review of the book here.

Speaking of books, Grady is currently reading The Fault in our Stars by John Green.  Let me back up.  We rented the movie from the mobile library a few weeks ago and sat down to watch it with him last weekend.  I prefaced the movie with a little talk about how it might be a little heavy for him - you know with the terminally ill teenagers, short sex scene and a heart wrenching funeral, just to name a few.  He said he would tell me to stop the movie if it was too much for him.

Well, it was a lot for him, for us.  We sat there with tears streaming down both of our faces through much of the end of the movie.  My son nestled into the crook of my arm and quietly sobbed.  We had a good talk about life, death, friendship and horrible diseases.  This also gave us the opportunity to talk about the pettiness of gossip, what's important in life and how to find beauty in our everyday lives.

G just so happened to be collecting change this week for a school fundraiser on behalf of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Pennies for Patients campaign.   Timing is everything, right?

The next morning we were drawing & painting in our sketchbooks and he asked if he could look up quotes from the movie.  We continued talking about those heavy themes while creating art around some of the powerful phrases from the book/movie.  This was such a wonderful parenting moment.  Witnessing my son being vulnerable and sensitive, but also knowing he's smart enough and ready to broach conversations about big topics, like life and death.  These moments are the wonderful side-effects of being a mother and they are quite unexpected.  I never gave much thought to this phase of being a parent and it's just so, so good right now.  My fears at the beginning of the school year have subsided and I'm settling into my role as the mom of a sixth grader.

Speaking of Grady getting older, I received a letter from him last week via the Tooth Fairie.  It made my heart just about burst and then put a smile on my face for the next few hours.

So, here is my tooth.  

Sorry I don't believe in you anymore (and I mean the tooth fairy, 

not you mom), but I am a little too old.  

It just happens, right?  Well, thanks for the exciting 

ride as the tooth fairy, for me having such delight 

as a kid to find out a fairy gave 

me money and for being my loyal "Fairy Bank."  

Well, nite!

The note was unsigned, but Grady is 11-3/4 years old - it was time.  The tooth fairie jig is up and it's bittersweet, but I think I'm finally ready to put all the make-believe magic behind me, too.  He lost two teeth this week.  He's growing up so fast.

This month found me looking back on my life and pondering my crooked path to the mother I am today.  I was invited to contribute an essay to the 28 Days of Play series created by the smart and talented New York mama, Rachel Cedar.  I connected with Rachel through Instagram a year or so ago and feel absolutely honored to contribute to the conversation on how we play (or don't play) with our children in this modern day and age.  I had to dig deep and can't wait to share my essay, along with all of the other talented writers, next month.  Stay tuned!

Last year I embarked on a drawing-a-day journal project that I'm super proud of.  I didn't want to commit to a daily exercise again this year and instead have decided to use both pages of my sketchbook and stretch my exercises into several days (or weeks, if needed).  

We're training for another hike up Mt. Rainier later this year.  We will revisit the part of the mountain that we partially climbed in 2011 and you can read about that wild trip here.  Steve will be joining us this time around.

We're lucky enough to only have to drive 30 minutes and arrive at the Armstrong Redwoods in Guerneville, California.  Having lived in Sonoma County for 13 years, I can't believe I've never hiked underneath this amazing canopy of giant trees.  The hike made me feel small and grateful and restored.  I love how nature can do that to me.

As always, the children lead me and my dear friend on these hikes and we quite like watching them run, jump, laugh and have fun with each other.  They are growing up right before our eyes and these Saturday morning excursions are really special.

January is my favorite month of the year because it's allows me a stretch of days wherein I can reorganize my home and mind.  It's like a month-long reset button for my life.  I look forward to it every year and get a little melancholy as we approach the 31st day.  The upside?  February is my second favorite month.

Quote in Stephen King's Memoir of the Craft "On Writing"

Well, I started this blog post at 6 o'clock this morning and since then I've made breakfast and lunch, taken my son to school, hit three grocery stores & shopped for new pillows & curtain rods at Target.  I stopped by my work office and typed up the last remaining 1099 tax forms that need to be mailed out today and came home and unloaded all the groceries.

It's 1:27 in the afternoon and sunny outside.  I'm going to grab a book, throw on a sundress and say goodbye to this freakishly warm Friday in January out on my front deck.

And, well, I've got to make time to read, so I can make time and have the tools to keep writing, right?

Happy weekend, friends.

'Tis the [stormy] Season

Life has been so full lately.  I know this is true for everyone out there, but I just know it's especially true for women.  Among my girlfriends, I know we shoulder the brunt of the holiday list-making and gift-buying-wrapping-mailing-giving.  Sure, my husband does a thing or two to help keep me off the holiday crazy train, but it's mostly left up to me.  Now, don't get me wrong - I enjoy most of it, but sometimes it feels like it's just too freaking much.  

And so I really went into this month with the intention of doing less and being really present this season.  It's harder than I thought, but I'm feeling the benefit of it.  The first order of business was to lighten our December social calendar.  Declining invitations is a definite exercise in restraint (which is not really my forté) but, in doing so, I felt a big sigh of relief.  It was a start.

I don't know about you, but around the 10th of December I kind of start to freak out.  There are handmade items to cook, make & package up and get in the mail so loved ones receive them by Xmas.  

I love this part and I hate this part.  

Treats for the doggies in our lives :: recipe here

I love it because I get great joy out of ritual and tradition.  Creating things with our hands and gifting them to people we care about really makes me happy.  The pockets of time spent drawing or carving stamps become little gifts for me.  The conversations that spring from this merry-making often give me the little push to keep going.

Stationary sets :: we each carved a block to print with 

I also hate this part because I get all ratcheted up and stressed out.  It always seeps out and the passive-aggressive control freak in me unleashes on my poor family.  My to-do list becomes all important and I start to question why I do this to myself; to us.

Molly Wizenberg's Three Layer Peppermint Bark :: Amazing!  Make it. You won't be sorry.

Well, not this year.  

While I did feel a welling up of stress, a freak storm system rolled into Northern California and left us without power for 12 hours during massive wind and rain storms.  And let me tell you, I got some major shit done in 12 hours without any electricity and a dead cell phone.  For reals.

Top-secret Hecht family kahlua recipe :: even I don't know what's in it, seriously

School was cancelled for two whole days and that spilled into the weekend, making for four long, productive days at home.

Our dear friends and neighbors had a big bash over the weekend and that spurred some pre-storm shoe shopping.  Red satin heels ($8) and bronze knee-high boots ($7.50) were my thrift scores.  And, I gotta be honest, I kind of feel like Wonder Woman when I wear the boots and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz when donning the red ones.

Printmaking is my new favorite thing, too.  Along with smiling.  

We made a print of 50 wonky circles for our friend's 50th trip around the sun.  All three of us carved up the stamps and used red screen printing ink on kraft paper.  The paper is special to me, as it was given to me at a writing retreat earlier this year.  I saved it for just the right project and it turned out just beautiful.

I can't believe it's almost the end of the year.  My drawing a day journal for 2014 is one of my most prized possessions.  The daily ritual was hard at first, but has blossomed into this almost meditative way to start my day.  Pens, paper and coffee at the kitchen table.  I'll write more about this project in a future blog post, but this journal is my new favorite.

This guy.

He's been wearing this sweatshirt (almost) daily since November 10th.  He thinks it's the best thing ever and I think it's kind of cute how much he loves it.  Don't get me wrong, I don't love it being worn every single freaking day, but think he's sweet and funny for wearing it.

I hope to burn it on December 26th.  Kidding.  Sort of.

It's still raining up here and the highways are intermittently flooded to and from town, depending on the tide.  Winter is upon us and the wet weather is so very welcome to all of us in California.  

All of the out of town packages are mailed and gifts have been made or purchased.  This week has been left wide open for movie-watching and cooking a big pot of soup.  I definitely feel like I've made space and time for our family this year, minus the small stress attack around the 10th of the month.

We cancelled our annual Xmas eve open house in our home and have opted for a quiet dinner with a couple of friends instead.  Again, stretching a new social muscle is hard, but I'm really looking forward to cooking this prime rib for the first time and beating everyone at Scrabble.  Ha!

The only holiday decorations around the house are a few scattered reindeer, a string of white lights in G's room and our Xmas tree.  It feels right this season.

Less really is more for us and not just a tired cliché.

It's been a slow lesson to learn, but I'm grateful for the time and space to swim in this new way of doing the holidays.  At first, I felt sad because G was getting older and I thought the magic would disappear.  Instead, we've been sharing words and feelings about the season and what it means to our little family.  

Last night, while driving home from town, Grady shared that he still believes in Santa, but kind of thinks we have something to do with it.  When I asked him how he came to that conclusion, he shared that we (his parents) have messed up on a few of our stories lately and that the prior year's Santa letters (that I save in our Xmas box) have handwriting that looks a lot like our handwriting.

Hmm.  That's weird.

He didn't want to fess up 100% about the non-belief and I think he did that more for me.  He knows how much I enjoy having fun with the season.  His wish list was short this year and he passed up the opportunity to go to the annual Xmas party where he usually sits on Santa's lap.  He told me sitting on Santa's lap would feel awkward and you know what?  I would have to agree with him on that front.

As always, I'm following his lead.

The last little project on my list was to paint a tree for Grady for Xmas.

Every year we make one another a handmade gift.  Last year, I failed to deliver on said gift and, therefore, I'm making good on it this year.  I let the busyness and travel plans interfere with the one thing Grady asked me for.

A painted tree.

Looking back at my blog, I see that he asked for a painted tree in 2012, too.  He gives me simple assignments because he knows I'm not the artist his father is!  Check out how Steve showed me up in 2010 with his parrot painting.

And so it's almost here.  Six more days until Xmas.

Merry Xmas, friends.

Valley Ford Pie Auction 2014

The Third Annual Valley Ford Pie Auction was a raging success!  The Valley Ford Young Farmers' Association, along with many community volunteers, helped to raise thousands of dollars for the building improvement fund for the historic Valley Ford Schoolhouse (where the auction and many other fundraisers takes place over the year).

Grady made a black cherry pie that sold for $200.  He was surprised and so very proud.

This event kicked off our Thanksgiving weekend and really set the mood for good food, drink + friends.

Privacy

Sitting in bed last night, I started thinking about why I haven't been writing in my One Line a Day Journal since the middle of summer.  It feels like I went on a quiet strike and subconsciously wanted to try and stop the marching on of time.  The jotting down of little quotes, soccer game scores, animal deaths on our street, and weather observations came to a screeching halt around the time we went to Alaska in August.  I've religiously kept this daily journal for over the past four years.  It is one of my most prized possessions and now I want nothing to do with it.  It's irrational to think that by ceasing to record our daily happenings it will somehow slow down time here in our household.  I know this and yet I can't bring myself to write in this journal any longer.  It makes me too nostalgic and sad for my son's younger years.

G's 11th birthday back in April 2014

I also noticed that I didn't do a birthday post for Grady's 11th birthday.  Or for my 44th birthday.  Both milestones I've happily recorded in the past.

So much has happened to me since my 43rd birthday post a little over a year ago.  That post was edited a wee bit and turned into an essay that appeared on Mamalode.com entitled Snap.  I started writing again and made this little blog public.  I signed up for Write Doe Bay, a writing/creative retreat, and attended same in April.  I've made dozens of new friends (a big surprise at my age).  I've been drawing every single day since January 1st of this year and stretched myself in so many new and invigorating ways.  So why wasn't I coming here to write all about it?

Two months ago, Grady started middle school and I recently made a vow not to write about him here on the blog, but I'm having a hard time.  He turned 11-1/2 years old yesterday (see, I'm already breaking my vow).  We marked the occasion by measuring his height on his door jamb (4' 9" to be exact).  A bi-yearly ritual that tracks his growth and stretches my heart during the small morning ceremony.  He grew an inch over the last six months.  He's also grown in so many other ways that cannot be ticked off with a big fat black Sharpie.  He's evolving and transforming into a young man right before my very eyes and, to be quite honest, it's a little hard to take.

Blogging about my days should naturally include my son, right?  It's hard to cut him out of my process, as he fuels me in so many ways creatively and as a human being.  I want to walk the walk in terms of putting myself out there, following through with an idea, taking chances with my art and life.  I want to find the beauty in every day and share ideas, images and feelings with others.  I want to be kinder, softer, more open to the world.  I want this for my son, too, and I want him to see me doing it in real time.

An old friend recently wrote to me and asked if my husband had died or if we divorced because she didn't see a mention of him in my recent blog posts.  This made me pause and think about why that is.  My husband is a private, introspective person.  He doesn't need bells and whistles on anything.  He isn't into social media and he's mildly confused by all of the sharing people (um, I mean, his wife) do on Facebook and other social media outlets.  He's pensive, thoughtful, intelligent.  So why do I give him the privacy he deserves, but yet I take Grady's privacy for granted?  Why is my life only worth sharing if I'm doing so through my lens as a mother?  I don't have answers for all of these questions, but I'm searching for them.

There's also the hypocrisy factor at play here.  I am adamant that my son can't be on social media, yet I share away on Instagram like it's feeding my soul.  Sure, I ask my son if it's okay to post a picture of him on there, but will he feel differently next month about it?  Next year?  Why do I need to share him via this outlet?  If I'm so sure that he can't handle the social media platforms right now, why am I drawn to it and inserting him at my own whim?  Shouldn't I be protecting him from all of this?  From what, exactly?  Again, no clear answers.

Will I have to abandon this space and start anew?  A move like that seems disingenuous to me and I'm working on having more real, authentic conversations and moments in my life, not less.   Would I act as though I have no family, when they give so much meaning to my existence?  These have been hard questions.  Lots of pondering and reflection, which is good stuff, too.

It's complicated, right?   Sharing images and pictures of my little boy seemed like a loving thing to do  when I started writing in this space and a way to honor and capture our lives as they were unfolding.  But now?  Now I'm not so sure.  Now it feels like I'm exploiting his privacy and over-sharing.  His peers could pop on over to this site and see things that might embarrass him at school.  As the days progress, he's getting older and pretty soon this will all matter to him in a way that it doesn't right now.

Having an only child is the choice we made for our family.  What started out as a happy surprise, has turned out to be my life's greatest gift.  I'm not being melodramatic here.  I mean it.  Being a mother is my nirvana and has opened up the way I see the world and interact with it.  Seeing how we're teaching him right from wrong gives me great pleasure and responsibility.  Exposing him to new authors, artists and music is fun.  Hearing his views on life and the natural world fills me up in a way I never would have known had we not had him.  Watching him try new sports or a math equation brings back a sense of wonder about the world that I kind of forgot about.

But isn't this his story to tell?  I'm not sure how to straddle both worlds and do it gracefully.  I'm torn between telling my story and honoring his.

It's no wonder I've noticed a lot of bloggers writing less and less as their children get older.  An imaginary line seems to have been drawn as the kids approach middle school and I didn't get it before, when my son was only a single digit in age.  I'm starting to get it now.

Documenting and list-making are my thing.  They give structure to my days and I get to act like an historian for our family.  I don't want to give that up.  After perusing my blog, I think I've landed on what I like about it and how I can morph the practice of writing into a small exercise in cataloging our lives in a way that respects the privacy of the two guys I live with.

What I've come up with is a little kick-start to my writing routine to help phase me out of writing about my kid in an overly sentimental and way-too-much-information kind of way.  I get a lot of satisfaction out of reading blogs written by women I respect and glimpsing their domestic lives.  I love recipe-sharing, simple DIY's, and lifestyle stories.

Therefore, I think I'm going to pop in here a few times a week to share what recipes were a hit in our household; what books or articles I read that I think my friends would like; and movies, too.  I'll also share what art projects or home renovations we're doing.  Design and thrifting are becoming passions of mine and I love the chance to reorganize and refresh a corner of my home.  I'm going to write what I know and what I like to read.

I guess I'm reorganizing & renovating this blog space in a way, too.  It's time.

I hope you'll follow along and let me know what you like to read here and any feedback you have about writing about your children and how you reconcile their privacy issues.  I have so many unanswered questions, but I truly look forward to the process it will take for me to figure out the answers.

That, my friend, is my real life right now and I'm slowly embracing it and trying to sort it all out.  Wish me luck.

Happy Monday, friends.

Full Of It

:: My new art portfolio gifted from a dear friend
:: Sylvia Plath knows what she's talking about

Life has been full lately.  Like, really full.  Like, bursting at the seams full.  Overflowing kind of full. You get the drift.

My husband likes to remind me that it's always full.  And, I guess when I stop to think about it, well, it is.  But the busyness of the beginning of the school year just about did me in and I'd like to pop into this little blog space of mine and jot down a few words to punctuate the end of…well, the beginning.

To commemorate the lighter, more care-free after-school calendar, I'd like to write a post dedicated to the creative & beautiful tidbits of daily life that have permeated my world lately and kept me sane for the past six, socially stretched thin weeks we've just had.  Here's what's been going on in my world.

I discovered the most talented Australian artist, Nicole Law, on Instagram (IG handle :: nicolelaw.au).  Her work is gorgeous and it inspired many hours of line drawing in my daily art journal (above left).

I'm in the final throes of library tote bag research and pulled the trigger on a blank canvas bag & sent it off to the screen printer for a small first-run production with my original artwork.  Hoping to have these back by the end of the month and in my new etsy shop by November 1st.  Crossing my fingers it all works out.

My new domain name has been registered and I figured out how to redirect my old blog address to the new one.  This was a major feat for this technologically challenged gal, but I did it without any help, thank you very much.

My library addiction was fed a lot this month and I'm really enjoying revisiting Jenny Rosentrach's Dinner :: A Love Story & her new follow-up to that book Dinner: The Playbook.  Really great, easy to execute family dinner plans for weeknight meals.

I'm also slowly digesting artist Lisa Congon's new book Art, Inc.  Is there nothing this woman can't do?  She is such a huge inspiration to me.  She's self-taught and didn't pick up a paint brush until she was 34.  She is prolific and one-of-a-kind and she inspires me daily with her words, images and blog.

I was gifted the out-of-print book of poetry by Gary Young entitled Pleasure.  I've checked this out from the library a handful of times and that's always my indicator that I must add it to my small home library.  The author is also a printmaker and lives in Northern California.  Since it was out of print, my dear book-loving friend contacted Heyday Books (the publisher) and they sent her a copy - that she, in turn, gifted to me.  I absolutely recommend this book and appreciate his prose-style poems on family life, nature and the relationship between those two worlds.  Here's one of my favorites:

The swallows hide their children in the dark, in frail mud cups beneath the roof.  They fly from the house and come back.  They make loops in the treacherous air, then return.  They live here, too, and they're not afraid.

His poems are without titles.  Here's another that is seemingly simple, but conjures up lovely sensory inducing images:

We bought halibut fresh from the boat, and poached the firm white flesh with onions, fennel root and wine.  We mashed potatoes, nibbled jicama, and Killarney laughed because the meal was white.  She's written a book about her mother, and that night I decided to illustrate the book with clouds.

And one more, because I can't say enough about this little book:

It's a joy to be subtracted from the world.  Holding my son's naked body against my own, all I feel is what he is.  I cannot feel my own skin.  I cannot feel myself touching him, but I can recognize his hair, the heft of his body, his warmth, his weight.  I cannot measure my own being, my subtle boundaries, but I know my son's arms, the drape of his legs, smooth and warm in a shape I can measure.  I have become such a fine thing, the resting-place for a body I can know.

And while I don't read poetry every day, I do have a small stack of my favorite poetry books that rest on a side table in the living room.  When I have a few minutes in between tasks, I like to sit down and open one of them and see what I find.  Usually, it's just the right thing to make me ponder this life I'm living.  This short respite seems to bring my day into sharp focus.  I love how a few words can do this.

I look forward to the delivery of the Sunday New York Times every single weekend.  I try to leave the day WIDE open so that I can sip my coffee, have a leisurely breakfast and read the paper from cover-to-cover for the entire day.  It is the most decadent and inspiring chunk of time during my week.  The graphics are to die for and are the well-written articles are a wealth of inspiration.  It has something for everyone in our family and I'm turning into one of those ladies that clips articles and pulls out sections for my two fellas + friends.  Yes, I'm that lady now.  Consider yourself warned.

We've had a bit of a heatwave over the last 10 days, but the fog has returned in the early mornings and late afternoons.  The fog created a need in me to mix up grey watercolors and try to paint this scene (above, right) from Doran Beach in my art journal.  I have a long way to go in this department.  As always, I am a work in progress when it comes to watercolors.

October's Babylon Book Club selection was All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr.  What a beautifully written book.  Themes of friendship, life, death, the beauty of the natural world, hope, and bravery run throughout its pages.  A must read.

A gangly flock of turkeys has been traipsing across our property for over a month now; eating fallen apples, dropping feathers, clucking & calling with all their might early in the morning and as the sun dips down to say goodnight in our back pasture.  They are both annoying & adorable all at the same time.  They're leaving feathers as some sort of peace offering.  I happily accept these feathers.

I've been taking a creative process in watercolor workshop with the super talented artist, Jean Warren.  She's been working in watercolor for over 30 years and is such a talent.  She makes it all look so easy (when it's absolutely not!).

I'm the newbie in class and was quite intimidated to paint next to my fellow, more accomplished  students.  I'm realizing through these classes that I have a hard time being a student.  I really don't like to be told what to do.  Isn't that funny?  That I pay for classes and attend them - and then quietly push back and try to find a way to do it my way?  Not funny ha-ha, but funny-what-the-hell-are-you-doing-Tammi kind of funny.

I outed myself this week with my classmates and finally let go of my way (which, incidentally is no real way at all).  I began to listen and apply what was being taught to the blank piece of paper in front of me.  It was a small revelation, but really made me look at how I resist change, new ideas coming from others & concrete advice.  I guess I like to fumble my way through things until I figure them out, but as I'm getting older I'm also realizing that if I'd just listen up and give it a try, I might save myself some valuable time.  And, let's face it, time is meaning so much more to me now that I'm getting older.  I don't want to keep fighting unnecessary battles.  It's just silly.  I'm finally realizing that and ready to move on and accept the help of others.

We celebrated our wedding anniversary this week and I gifted a piece of original art to Steve to mark this occasion.  Again, inspired by this artist, I utilized my drawer full of hand-carved stamps and created a wonky little homage to our 13 years by printing 13 wonky circles on kraft-colored card stock with red screen printer's ink.  It took several takes to get it just right, but I absolutely love it.

September was filled with milestone birthday celebrations, first school dances, dinner parties, soccer & flag football games.  It was also filled with big batches of waffles, school lunches, Manhattans, lots of sparkling wine & homemade ice cream sandwiches.

Steve & Grady make the best waffles I've ever had.  At my request, they kindly double the batch and store the cooled waffles in clean, used plastic bread bags, stacking the waffles one on top of the other - so that they lay flat.  During the school week, Grady just pops two in the toaster to reheat and voila! - breakfast of champions.  I've never made a waffle in the 15 years we've been together and I quite like that fact.  We received our first waffle iron as a wedding present and it died late last year from old age and constant use.  Our new All-Clad belgian waffle maker should last us until Grady is out of college.   I love that this is totally Steve's domain and that he is training his son to take over this culinary task for our family.

I thoroughly enjoy listening to the father & son morning banter and witnessing the two of them  cooking together.  Plus, it really helps out with our weekday morning routine by having these in my back-pocket (I mean, freezer).  Recipe can be found here.

Of Bristle and Bone, oil on panel, 60 x 48 inches, 2014

We had the pleasure of attending our dear friend's art show Between Head and Hand at the Dolby Chadwick Gallery in San Francisco last month and it was amazing.  Kai Samuels-Davis is such a talent and we were so proud to take in the show and see our friend's body of recent work up on the walls in this beautiful space.  Click through to his website to see more of his work.

Books & periodicals litter almost every available flat surface in our home right now.  When I'm not busy trying to cram in a little more reading, I'm playing catch up with my downloaded podcasts.  I'm absolutely transfixed by Ira Glass's new podcast Serial.  Have you listened to it yet?  Go download it.  Seriously, right now.  It's my new favorite thing.

Happy October, everyone.