Coping

Good.

Bad.

Goat.

Other goat.

Mako chicken.

Pepper chicken.

Pippi chicken.

Flippin' chicken.

Egg life.

Sour grass.

The less I write, or speak, the more times I sit quietly, the easier it becomes to remain silent, and the harder it is to speak when I need to. I've gotten really good at saying very little. But I'm not convinced that it's good for me, for anyone.

Honey Bees & Cafe Mocha

Cafe mocha, cats napping, honey bees in the flower bed, Maria's drawings, flower crowns, striving, caring, hope, worry... and stories. My head is full of untold stories.

... and then Spring!

March 15~

Days have been steadily streaming by. We do our routines, we face small surprises, and minor disruptions. We fold laundry, collect eggs, and progress on bigger projects. All of the siding is on the carport, which officially resembles a doorless garage. Everyone has shared in the effort, thankfully. And of course, there's more to do. There's always more to do, right?




Hello, Maddie. Maddie stops at our Little Free Library, and sometimes, she lies down. Even if she's not having a treat, she just considers this the rest stop on her daily outing. We feel so honored. Sweet Maddie.




March 18~

Balancing on surfboards, that I've seen, but I think this is first time I've seen a board balancing on a surfer. This is why it pays to go out, look around, shake-up the routine.




We had a chance to shake-up our routine, at cousin Izzy's Rocking and Rolling skate birthday, and whoa! was that a lot of fun. There were a lot of smiles seen on that day, and I think Maria and I are both happily sold on skating roller rink parties. Maria got better and more confident with each lap. I certainly did not expect to go for it, and I am glad I did. Izzy promises to do this one again, next year... so I think the birthday girl had a good time, too.

I came home in time to take Alex's roadside phone call. His vehicle died. On the freeway. He'd already managed everything brilliantly, safely getting off the freeway, calling our roadside service (thank you, AAA.) All I had to do was meet him at the repair shop. The diagnosis for Gold Honda is not good, but all I can think about is how relieved and thankful I feel that Alex got home safely. He had been in Los Angeles, late at night, in pouring rain, and the sudden kaput happened while we was in the fast lane, but he was only 14 miles from home, and a good samaritan gave him the last push he needed to get the dead van to a safe spot. Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness.

Geoff is at a conference in San Francisco... a last hurdle after all the months of crunch mode hours, but we're managing. His first night there he sent me a picture of the hotel lobby, and of course it's enviably gorgeous and elegant, and so I returned the favor, and sent him a picture of my evening plans, and hot date...

Don't be jealous, but this is what awaited me... an evening with the Laundry Cats.

You know what? It was kind of enviable. Alex and Maria joined me, then Max. The cats were funny distractions, and we made all kinds of progress, restoring order, and adding laughs to our night.

We almost got all of the laundry folded, hung, and put away. Except, Cairo wouldn't give up his socks. He pulled them out of the pile, grabbed them from us, and when we started to cover him, he only looked pleased. He slept through the night like this, until 1:00, when he did one of his rat dances. Have I mentioned the rat dances? They are so weird. Cairo is so weird.

Spring!

It happened just like that! One minute I am dealing with a cat that walks on me, backwards, in circles, with an Ikea rat in his teeth, and the next thing I know it is Spring.


I didn't have to look far for the signs, it's been coming along sure and steady, in the garden, in the light, those longer afternoons that stretch into what is beginning to feel almost endless. Even our plans and discussions, lately, mark a change of season, as we discuss summer plans, hopes, ideas.


Alex suggested we resurrect my old potting table, which feels like a sweet and practical nod to spring... restoration, and a fresh start. We cleared it off, and tossed a heap of old and broken bits. We bought a can of paint, and he's been sanding, and repairing.

Speaking of fresh starts and new seasons suddenly springing on us... our girl, our very youngest, has been accepted into the school of her choice. Her high school of choice. She made the choice when she was four years old, and wanted to go to the same school as her big brother. I can't believe the time has come. Well, almost. She's still finishing her accelerated middle school plans, and there is summer, yet. But looming, and already making demands, is high school.

I cannot believe it.

Did I already say that?

I'll not candy-coat this: I am shaken. Proud, and appreciative, but totally shaken.

Last night was "enrollment night." Maria got to check out electives, meet teachers, pick up her registration packet. And learn about school clubs... like robotics. And. Yeah. We know about robotics. Some of you may recall that we were 2102% robot obsessed for four years. Maria was three years old, when Alex joined team Paradox, just four when she traveled to Arizona, for a second FRC competition. We go way back, and we were way deep into it.

Cecilia! Maria had a happy reunion with her ballet folklorico friend, who happens to be coder for Paradox...


This may be the start of something. Girls who dance, and code, who love their school, and robots... there is something happening. Actually, this may just be the next chapter of something that started a long time ago, but it's all new, again!

So, here is Maria, meeting David, consulting with Cecilia, and getting the scoop on metal shop, Solid Works, marketing, outreach, engineering, and tech wheel.

I stepped back, and tried to take it all in, from a distance. I cannot believe it. It comes, and goes, so fast. Too fast. I am shaken.


Adrian! Grade school buddy.

Amira! Anagram sister. After all these years, they will be going to the same school. Taking this picture, I could see this moment as one that will stay with me, and in the next four years, I will return to it, thinking... where did the time go?