I found a calligraphy set at a thrift store recently, and I'm reminded how soothing it is to practice lettering. It seems crazy now to think that my third grade teacher made time to teach us calligraphy.

I took this bad mobile phone picture at a coffee shop recently. (I know, coffee shop...beer...whatever.) My favorite Uncle used to put my arm behind my back and hold onto it until I yelled, "Pabst Blue Ribbon!!". So....that made me smile.





Work is work. small town is small town.
i find i do best when i escape into the nearest wooded area with my hammock and my dog.
this suburban life grabs me when i'm not looking, and pulls me into a whirlpool of busyness and ego-stroking brownie points that the tiny culture applauds as clear indicators of a proper motherhood. i hate it...deeply. in this case I'm not a proper mother. I need a wilder, less structured approach.
i'd rather avoid the crowd and the nonsense. there are times when I'm surrounded by adults and not one meaningful comment can be heard. not one. it's as if everyone was handed a script when they moved here, and the goal is to conform and be quiet. very quiet.
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life trickles by in a series of moments, some wonderful, some awful.
sometimes I handle these moments like a grown up, and sometimes I can't handle anything.
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i still struggle with connecting to and relating to other people, maybe more than ever before. it seems like there's so much misplaced anger in the world. even among neighbors. what are we all so pissed off about? and i see how anger just gets passed from one person to the next, burning us up and keeping us focused on things that don't matter. it seems like this has gotten significantly worse in the past few years. I hope it gets better soon. I'm making a conscious effort to let go of the crap the the media wants me to stay pissed off about. but it's not easy.
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i want to train my thoughts on what matters. seems like most everything is a grand distraction from the precious moments that make up our finite time here. i don't care about the kids' grades as much as their hearts. grades will come. public school here isn't an education, anyway. not really. that will come much later. the real education happens after class, in conversation, in nature.
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I need to go camping.