Not Home Yet

It was passed the time the kids should have been off the bus and in the door.

I quick stepped out to the top of the driveway – still no sign of them.

Crouching to peer under the hanging apple tree branches I double checked- nope, no kids.

Jumping up I ran back into the house pulled out my hidden cookie and sat down.


And as I enjoyed my last five minutes of quiet I thought to myself, “Yup.  This is it. I’ve pretty much hit the pinnacle of motherhood and the stereotype of a stay at home mom all in one fell swoop. Good job mama, good job.”


Mosquitoes and School

The first day of school arrives and I, like all the other parents and grandparents around take pictures of my kids. I do this because it was done to me and I hated it so it seems only fair that now I torture my own girls with it.DSC_0306

And then I, like all the other parents and grandparents around, share my pictures with the world. I do this because that’s what bloggers (I swear I will get a new computer and be a regular blogger again one day soon) do.DSC_0305

But I just can’t get on board the “bittersweet memory”  and “growing up so fast” and “where has the time gone” caption bandwagon with the cute signs and the three smiling faces. DSC_0307


A: The house is quiet today and that is a beautiful thing.

B: I hate to be the one to point this out but we are all aging at the same rate, and

C: The time has disappeared into years of sleeplessness and over caffeination and I can’t remember most of it anyway even if I wanted to.

So I post pictures of my kids getting attacked by mosquitoes and I don’t cry and feel bittersweet.


When Mom makes you take a first day of school picture in a swarm of mosquitoes. #whenmosquitoesattack #firstdayofschool

Nope, I’m just happy to be able to drink an entire cup of tea while it’s still hot, knowing that I’ll have some photo evidence that I did indeed send the girls off to school on a mosquito ridden day in 2018 because heaven knows I’ll never remember it otherwise!




Death By Drowning


Fortunately it was just the computer.

Unfortunately there is no “just” when it comes to how much I rely on my computer.

Hopefully soon, my technological life will be in order, the kids will be back in school, I’ll stop running all over the state on a whim and I’ll be back to blogging and writing and creating again. Because as much as I’ve enjoyed this whirlwind of a summer I have missed this.

Putting words on a page has become more important to me than I would have ever guessed.

Until then you can still find me on Instagram (because we killed all the technology in the house this summer except the phone *knock on wood*) where there aren’t many words but there are lots of pictures to get me through until we get it all straightened back out again. 38738842_2276205439273979_5467301984065290240_n

Enjoy what summer you have left!

The Delivery

Once Upon A Time…

A big brown truck drove up the hill to a little grey house. The mother of the house met the truck at the top of the driveway.

Could it be her twenty dozen quail eggs were here already?!? Could it be that fifty new copies of her book were here already?!? She waited in anticipation… and then she saw the red circles on the box and her heart sank to her toes. It was nothing more than a giant box of school supplies.

The giant box of school supplies was set on the table where three young girls tore into it like wild animals leaving behind a wake of Kleenex boxes and discarded wrappers surrounded by a fog of “No, put it in your backpack!”, “Wait, you need all your things!” and “Pick that up!!!”

Disappointed and disillusioned the mother forgot all about the giant box but the girls took that box and  transformed it into the best play house ever.

Where they played happily ever after…

(Or until the father decides enough is enough and the playhouse is discarded while they wail in harmony, “But I still like it!”)

The End.

No Regrets

Gramps died last November. In his final weeks, with a terminal cancer diagnosis running him down, I heard him respond to every person who visited or called on the phone that tried to express their grief and concern for him with a single phrase.

“I have no regrets and I’m not afraid.”

I could hear his words echo in my head on Saturday morning as we gathered outside the same church he was married in to bury his remains in the family plot. Our family dug the hole ourselves, as was his wishes, we sang the doxology and afterwards we listened to Granny’s stories about their wedding and Christmas pageants in the church they both grew up in. As we left the kids rang the church bells. I watched my nephew leave the ground holding on to the rope, kicking his legs all about, trying to ring that big bell, laughing through the tears as I remembered all the times Gramps had gotten my brother in just the same predicament.

Then we went home to the farm he lived on his entire life for a picnic lunch, a rousing game of baseball with the kids, (the kind that would have found him on the pitcher’s mound for sure) and an afternoon of fishing off the pier. Because he was a farmer who knew when to work and when to play too.

I can’t think of a more fitting way for the family to say one last goodbye to a remarkable man who lived a life that allowed him to look everyone in the eye at the end of it and say, with a boy scout’s honor…


“I have no regrets and I’m not afraid.”


I wake up to the radio because I’m less likely to smash things that don’t beep at me in the morning which means that occasionally I wake up to the day’s news report.

Yesterday morning was one of those days. I went from soundly sleeping to hearing the news that Stephen Hawking had died.  Slightly stunned I was still half in dream world contemplating the loss of a renowned physicist who’s physical limitations had inspired so many while the radio man jabbered on.

Artwork by Tooks. Did you know we made a book together? Link in the sidebar!

It seems there was another newsworthy death in the world, Sheela, the local zoo’s 25 year old camel, had died.  I sleepy blinked at the ceiling befuddled by the juxtaposition of deaths.  I wondered at the oddness of the pairing of world famous scientist and author’s death with that of Sheela the camel, as well as wondering what an average camel life span is*, when the radio continued.

This is not Sheela the camel.

I was then informed that “the saddest” news of the day was that Jordy something-I-already-forgot-and-I-only-remember-his-first-name-because-my-cousin-named-a-dog-after-him wouldn’t be playing for the Packers this year. Since I give less than a rat’s behind about football, I got out of bed mind reeling. Really news?  Hawking- dead, Camel – dead, football guy going to play somewhere else. These are my three bits of news you deem important for my day? This is the state of the world that I’m going to start my day with? These specific things are the things you think I need to know?

Jordy the dog who was ever so much cuter than Jordy the football player. (photo from cousin Emily)

I continued to ponder this through making myself tea and ritualistically spilling it on myself as I drove down the driveway (I am my mother’s daughter) on the way to school. I was just coming to the conclusion that people value different things, and Sheela the camel and football are super important in other people’s eyes. Though, obviously, those people are lesser, ridiculous people with messed up priorities because who cares about a game where the ball bounces funny and you stop every three seconds when there are physicists learning new things about black holes…  When there was a cry from the backseat.


(I kid you not, that’s exactly what the girl yelled!)

And then I forgot all about the scientist, the dromedary, and the athlete because there was yogurt spilling in the back seat of the vehicle. And that is some seriously important breaking news.


We all have ’em.

*Stephen Hawking says be curious… and so… the average bactrian camels life span is 20-40 years in captivity but up to 50 in the wild. That gives me a whole new pile of things to be curious about, how about you? 

**In other news, while editing this post, John became curious and asked Google “What is the most difficult punctuation mark to get right”… he is a smart ass but I feel vindicated because it’s commas and apostrophes because they have seven jillion rules apiece and who can remember all that?