Robin's Egg Blue is the voice

Next will come indigo, and I'm not sure I even planned ahead for purple. Some things are better left to God, I guess. Living in the moment is probably just easier, but then, then things fall into place and you don't have a second plan. Wouldn't recommend just living in the moment to anyone then.

Though faith is a bridge to the future you can count on, I should've said that. Too busy trying to make sure I have all my colors though, and then off to the park I shall go. But before that, be careful what you wish for, you might regret it when you get it. Just glad I'm not that kind of an idiot, okay then.

A Summer at the Cabin

I'm surprised I didn't think of this like three years ago, I'm totally going to spend the whole summer at the cabin...why not? There's nothing keeping me here in town, except the demand I keep setting up playdates, sure Colton will be crushed to be losing out on camp, but I think I can make it up to him.

We can still do the library programs, I guess. Yes, it will be a magnificent summer spent at the cabin, will have to get internet access set up, and cable. There's nothing better for my spirit than to cut these last ties, and do what I want with my summer.

The science museum will keep us busy, plus being at the beach and staring at the tremendous lake will wake up my eyes. And, surrounded by Native American Indians, I'll feel tribal and safe. I can't believe I only just thought of this, been keeping it from myself as some sort of surprise.

The grocery stores in Bemidji are amazing, and Minnesotans are wa-a-a-y cooler than losers here. The lake, the lake is what I'm now going to imagine is possible. I've been waiting for the courage to pull this lifestyle off, and a summer at the cabin will be it.

And oh yes, the pictures.

A Twinkle

Can't get a certain look out of my eye, well, it's in my mind's eye, a memory. There's a certain sound too, in the voice of "it's fantastic", everytime I recall that sound I'm like, ooh, and oh no. Whenever sounds and sights get stuck in my mind's eye and ear, I know I'm done for. At least I'm assuming, because it's never really happened to me like this before.

The look though, it's different from just plain genuine, it's not even really a twinkle, it's like, just happy. But probably not just any kind of happy because otherwise I wouldn't have noticed. I guess I can't pinpoint exactly what kind of happy it is...and should I?

I probably should, but I'm not sure how though. Of course I'll try, I always will, because I don't want to repeat any past experiences that make me seem like I won't try, because I always always will. The happy was like, like a sure kind of happy I guess. I don't know, that's not even right.

It was glee-like but that's been used in so many contexts it wouldn't count. Maybe a glimpse of the future happy, or just an I found myself happy, or, I still don't know. But at least I'm trying. I know what it was, yes, this must be it, it could be nothing else in the world.

It's an I like Cat Stevens happy, that's all it was. Well, I'm glad I finally figured that out myself.

Lessons with Authority

Maybe it's not common knowledge afterall, I guess I expect too much from adults. I should know better, really I should, most are publicly educated, and then commit their own children without giving the thought a swirl. Give me a good two hours with anyone, daring to open their minds, and I'll explain every P, Q, and W about what's wrong with the system, why it's wrong all the time.

Consequently producing adult after adult who is wrong all the time. I sit here all the time feeling grateful, I'm spared. But I never consider it my responsibility to enlighten all others, and so I forget to correctly interpret all those antagonizing stares. A buncha idiots, and I always shoulda known better.

Homeschoolers don't just hate TESTS, they fight they government constantly and relentlessly to lay off. Go measure your own incompetence please, you're distracting me from the very much more important job of living, educating my children, and yes, living for God.

I should've made the connection earlier, all these tests. And should have treated them accordingly, "We're homeschoolers, we don't NEED tests." Fine, we'll take them if we have to, and were average and above, at taking tests.

But the content must be taught in person. No other service or technology can do it justice. Among friends.

Pastels are nice, don't ya think?

Well, I'm not really sure. If only, if only...if only blogspot had all the right colors, in a nifty travel size pack, such a bummer. Oh the legacy of the chase for good colors. How annoying, yet extremely satisfying at the same time. For a hamster.

I don't like these colors, no I don't, I'm difficult. Too much trouble for my own self as a matter of real fact. But oh well, it's always been blogspot, it will never be WordPress. And so back to my palette I go. No more crying.

Lucky 13

I love black, so what. I chose lavender instead, at the last minute, and I'm glad. Parades and Such wanted to host it, and so Grownupartists (always in black) will come later. It always comes later and that makes my friends glad.

Being reliable isn't something I learned from Earl, but it's something I noticed. My own reliability quotient depends on my mood, which oftentimes is a quickfix away, and othertimes not. It's never bothered me much, these inconsistent times, because that's when I depend most on faith. It's empowering.

No dictator or schoolmaster, or Godforbid Super-ly well-intended checking-up-on-you-er, is going to make me feel guilty for just trusting God. Nor will I be one of those types of Christians who feels my entrance or non-entrance into heaven depends on anyone else's salvation, it doesn't. Probably why the Evangelicals always get under my skin so bad.

Protestants and Catholics are probably what I should be discussing, but I can't because I'm mad. And yes, it has everything to do with gift horses and Trojans. You see, some people pretend to know history, and then base false assumptions on that.

While others have abandoned Birkenstocks altogether, in favor of realizing that cappuccino, yes that one right there, only exists because men fought in wars. Very bloody, many decapitating years later, we enjoy freedom, which is NEVER for FOREVER.

Only God is eternal, that should provide some comfort, and lasts forever if by chance eternal means something close but not quite forever. Why invest in forever anyway, when you have right now.

Well, right now is good in theory, doesn't seal the deal though. And while my children are self-directed, playing imaginative games and building towers as I type and look on. I'm no spectator to my own life (in Latin spect- means to watch). I'm a participant.

And when I take an overall gestalt-like view of my life, I want to be sure I'm participating in all the aspects of my life full-heartedly. I get the most satisfaction that way, less distracting, which allows me to invest all the rest in faith.

Faith is nifty and reliable like that. Can move mountains while others play with molehills. I've seen mountains moved, captives rescued, evil found. In the meantime, I keep truckin 'til in faith is where we land. I'm sorta evangelical like that, yet less hopeful.

Maintaining balance is where it's at

Always has been. Thank Caroline Myss for giving me the map, I supply my own motivation. One's balance must always be in balance, or nothing else is. Probably applies to economics too, for all we knew. Students in her class, well just one was all I could afford. So out of my thinking to take her invitation seriously, and actually fly to New York.

It was an interesting experience, I'd love to tell you in person, the hotel surprised me. The grand hotel across from the train station surprised me. Even the train itself was easy to manage, loved that nice station. The crowds didn't scare me a bit, been there before, a few times. I've stayed there a bit.

Would love a tour though, a really great tour.

Most Simplistic Math

No, my children aren't coins, what could you be thinking. Nor clockhands. Were you a homeschooler, these aspects of teaching numbers would be important to you, most people aren't and so they don't understand.

I have so many stories about when I first became a mother, it makes me proud of myself. You see I fell into it, so abruptly and unvoluntarily, the fact that my lemonade turned out so perfectly, well it's something I take pride in. And my love of it never ends, it turns out.

I knew there was only one important thing in life that I could do well, no matter the other things I was good at. To raise children with intention, to get completely over my self, not only was it fairly easy, but someday they'll be really cool adults.

Most of my friends, or I guess you could say influences, were like "daycare, and real jobs, not welfare", oh my. I only had to depend on the system for a very short bit, tossed that awesome experience in my ol' bag of insights. Could happen to anyone, you know? That's it.

It's not always about slackers, or bad educations. But it always seems to be about getting over ourselves. For me that's more easy. When the toss up is between being totally tuned in, and on time...or in step with all your fellow sheep, and plain wanderers.

Kids are where it's at, kids are always where it will be. As far as priorities at least, they create the best me.

Cork-collecting

How Freudian. Almost as bad as "she wasn't REALLY a homeschooling mother to five happy-healthy children". No, she gave up on THAT depressing job after her kids kept kicking her in the shins (what, TJ Maxx out of shin guards?)...and worked her lifelong why-couldn't-she-be-Paula jig...then I could respect her. Redheads always have the most glee.

Glee, I'm glad you're friends with me. Pah, who needs your feminist ass anyway, I've got a family. Yes, middle child between two boys, daughter of a father who loves me. You can have all the rest, and enjoy it, never got over her I-fear-my-own-mother-complex anyway. And the bridges in your REAL family you burned all along the way.

Deeply hurt your father, I might add, which is out of MY character, chameleon-in-training. Gosh, I love being rejected and bullied as medicine, provides my best insights, oh yes it does. Not that I always knew, not that I didn't have to develop patience.

But, when you're raped by your boyfriend like a thousand times, you learn to be quiet. Yes, Sarah K. Silverman makes jokes about it, so why can't I?

Why can't it be Lent again

I miss Easter. Yes, I'm overly-religious at the moment, depending on Jesus, what the hell do I know. I just live it. I wish it could be Lent again, where I give up everything I love and I own, I'd start with just toothpaste, of course. That should make it up, yes all of human's sins.

Why can't it just be Easter again, I missed it the last time, too caught up in the waterpark...remember the satin? And Christmas, don't forget, had let me down. What kind of a Christian family has no tree in 2008? Not I.

I planned w-a-a-a-y ahead the year before, remember? Totally wrapped all my ornaments carefully in the most spectacular Target-bought boxes. Planning ahead, I said to myself, for the time BEFORE Christmas, the joy in our eyes.

But all that work, and all that planning, even the cabin-fun setting. But no tree. Sure, we had plenty of Crate & Barrel boxes, which was unusual, even for my taste. But no tree. In 2008 we had no tree.

Random musings

I deserve to be random sometimes, would you not agree? In fact, sometimes I like to just take the alphabet and mess it all up...zip, zip, zip. Like a deck of cards with no one's actual name on it. Just shapes. You know how it is.

For example, for some of you more nosily inclined...I just got back from Target, and no it was not interesting. Gay in fact, and spinster lonely. Sometimes it's fun when Target is all spinster lonely, because it reminds me to invest my whole heart into everything I do, and not just evil antennae. Like how the plural of antenna is "ae"? So do I.

Applesauce and pickles

Just like my great-great grandmother used to make, before she died of old age. You know homemade pickles, they didn't just use dill, it was something else that added like a twang or something. Lemme look on my Old-fashioned Dave's Pickles jar and see what HE added. Hmmm.

Oh yes, sweet vinegar. Yum, yum!! Anyway, ooh, they're spicy too, must've used red pepper. That's cause it's called FAMOUS DAVE'S Signature Spicy Pickle Chips. And they were, so thank you.

Now, I'll have a sip of Fat Tire beer, because my five year old AGAIN wants to use a bottle opener. He does these things out of the blue sometimes, and as a homeschooling mother it's my job to encourage him,

"Yes honey, you can use the can opener to open a Fat Tire beer for me." Only, it's the afternoon, should I feel guilty? Like super guilty for drinking during the afternoon? Well, I did just have a sip of Coca Cola from McDonald's, nearly ran plum into a trench coat after eyeballing two other mysterious dudes. Hmm.

Yes, I think a Fat Tire beer is just what a lonely girl after a hard day of Castle Parking needs afterall. Yum, yum!!