greenclogs

after the storm

We took a day trip to see the ocean today. Yesterday there was a huge storm and while I'm sure not all of these logs arrived yesterday, our neighbor said that most of it was new. I'd call it driftwood, but I think I'm stretching the term with 3 foot diameter, 10-40 foot long tree trunks. The toddler was ecstatic about the trip (that girl is always ready for some beach, no matter the weather). The other two, not so much. After we lingered over lunch and visited friends, I dragged brought them down to the beach just to see what the storm brought. For that 30 minutes there was no bickering, no whining, no begging, no complaining. Just exploration and wonder. Beautiful. It made all that complaining worthwhile. 

Thank you ocean. You filled us up today. 

somehow she's two

Can someone please explain to me how this happened? 

Two years ago:

Now:

This girl. She is something else. She's funny and loving and oh so smart. She talks and talks and talks. And then talks some more. She has opinions about music. She says "I wuv you so much, Mom. You my best friend." When she walks, she runs with a little wiggle. She's so full of enthusiasm, which spills over to the rest of us. She is love, personified. 

Kit, we so needed you. You complete us all. 

spring whispers in

I woke up yesterday and read Facebook & Twitter feeds about miraculous sunshine and warmth around the country for the first day of spring, then looked outside at our grey skies. I pulled on my rainboots, walked out to the chicken coop while skirting the muddiest parts of the yard, and stood in the steady rainfall while I watched them run out into the flowerbeds to forage. I wished for sun. 

"Where is my miraculous sunshine?" I wondered as I walked around looking at the new growth of flowers and garlic and berry bushes that are peeking out as they wake from winter slumber. And then I remembered that here is not a place for sunshine in the early spring. This is a time of dampness and mud, of rainboots, of the pink pops of flowering trees against grey skies. It's a time of growth, fed by all that rain, that will result in abundance when the sun comes (which is not soon enough). 

So I gathered some firewood and made a fire. Chai and french toast were our breakfast. We gathered by the fire and snuggled under quilts and read stories; we watched some Busytown and we crocheted on the afghan that does not want to be finished. One of us slept way in because she was up until the wee hours finishing her book the night before. We made cookies. We cozied up and welcomed spring. Here, spring comes on the rainclouds and seeps in slowly through longer days and green buds and blossoms. We have to be patient for a little while longer to bask in the sun. 

(like until Friday, when sunshine is forecast for a couple of days. I think I can make it that long)

hello sunshine

Spring is on the way. Time to change the blog banner. Right after we play in the sun some more.

the old college try

People. It is time for a major revamp of this here blog. What I'm doing clearly isn't working because I'm not stopping over here. I'm going to do some good hard thinking about what I want to talk about and if I want to keep talking here. I'm curious - what do you want me to share? Do you care? I think I just need to start talking again. 

(fog on the way home from the beach)

Here goes. We had snow last night. I woke up at 1:30 and looked out the window to a bush covered in white flakes and that very hushed quiet that comes with snow. I got up and sat by the living room window for a while, watching the snow fall. By morning, it had largely melted, but it was good to see that light blanket of white. I had a hard time getting up this morning after my late night snow watching. It was worth it. 

(this helped)

Today was a little rough (maybe that snow watching wasn't such a great idea). It was a housecleaning day. Are those ever not rough? I've been much more diligent about not letting the middle girl walk away from her messes, so today felt like one big nag fest. So not fun. However, we're nearly there and it feels good. 

(I couldn't bear to move this though)

A year ago today we were in San Francisco, getting ready to come up here for good. I can't believe it's been a year. The time has gone so fast, but it also seems like we've been back forever. I think we're in a way better place than we were a year ago, in so many ways. It seems like all the ducks are finally lining up. I hope so. 

(my daily mantra)

I've been thinking a lot lately about being a mother and about educating children in this new world of ours and about finding a place for myself that works for my kids and works for me too. After I stew a bit more and stare out at the rain, we'll chat. 

(rain = good contemplation time)

I'm glad it's March. The days are lighter and longer, the bulbs are poking up from their slumber, the garlic is sprouting. I'm ready for spring and all the promise it brings. 

And for the eggs. Let's not forget the eggs. Thanks girls. 

(photos from my project366 stream in Flickr)