Blinding Moments of Unconviction

The "game" of LIFE

2012-03-08T11:36:00.003-08:00

Emmy: "Ansel, where did your kids and your wife go?"

Ansel: "I gave my kids up for adoption. They were too expensive. And I threw my wife out the window."

Savanna: "Then you have to go to jail."

Ansel: "There is no jail in this game"

Ansel: "Emmy give me back the money I gave you. I felt sorry for you because you were poor, but now I want it back!"

Emmy: "You can't take back money that you gave me."

Savanna: "Taxes, Shmaxes. I don't want any nice roads."

Ansel: "I don't want to play this anymore!"

Emmy: "You can't just walk away from the game, Ansel, just because you are losing."

Savanna: "Look, everyone on the cover is laughing and happy. Why are you so mad?"

Ansel: "Whoops, the game just fell on the floor. See ya on the flip side guys."

ME in my head: "This "game" is a little too real to be fun at all. What glutton for castigation thought it would be fun to create a game where you are pummeled by the traumatizing anxieties of adulthood? Milton Bradley, what were you thinking? I want to play the game of "Childhood" where there is no such thing as taxes or insurance or salaries.....just kick the can and candy in my pockets"

Things that made me happy this week....Cooking Lesson Edition

2012-02-25T16:35:00.003-08:00

My eyes were still closed when I felt a soft plop on the blankets above my abdomen. "Breakfast in bed, guys," ordered Ansel in an authoritative way. Whenever he does something really sweet, he uses a tone of voice that negates the act of kindness. I think he has philanthropic boundaries which allow him to be "cool" and a really nice kid at the same time.

Ansel usually wakes before I do and rarely wakes up before Corey. Before you label me as slothful, I need to qualify this by saying that I am almost always up by 7:15. It's just that I live with three earlier risers (thanks for still making me look good, Savanna).

Last Sunday, Corey was still in bed at 7:30 am (I can hear you gasping in horror!). Lucky for him, otherwise he would have missed out on this divine in-bed serving of.............pop tarts. I appreciated the thoughtfulness and thus couldn't admit to Ansel that my mind wants to, but my throat refuses (gag response) when I try to swallow these things which have obviously been manufactured by terrorists who would wish us to die a slow death....or at least put our brain cells in a sugar induced, comatose state. Don't get me wrong, I love my sugar. But pop tarts.......they are crossing the line.

Not to change the subject before I justify why I have pop tarts in my cupboard in the first place, but when I forced the pop tart down my throat, I had the sick realization that I need to teach this kid to cook if I am ever going to get a proper breakfast in bed.

We started with the basic, life sustaining items.....scrambled eggs and quesadillas. One hour later, he had opened his own restaurant, in which he used a smidgen of creative thought to name, "Restaurant," and began taking orders:

And then he said, "Mom, I think I need to learn to cook a few more things."

I have created a monster.

Other things that made me happy:

1. Savanna going barefoot in the snow.

2. PODCASTS! I now almost look forward to(ok, not looking forward to....but at least not dreading) those mundane things in life that used to bring me dread, such as cooking, cleaning, and driving...... all the things that SAHM are supposed to do. My life has Cha Cha Cha Changed now that I can do these mindless things whilst listening to thought-provoking, emotion-stirring, loud-laughter inducing PODCASTS.

3. This conversation that Ansel overheard and interrupted:

Me on the phone, "I wish that I could just be frank with them"
Ansel, "Mom, you want to be named, FRANK. That is so weird. Who would do that?"

Because celebrating is better than not celebrating.

2012-02-25T15:10:00.000-08:00

Corey doesn't care that I believe Valentines Day to be a holiday of the most shameless treacle. I love this about him.

A homemade card and treats from Dad is a given:

sucking the marrow out of winter

2012-02-25T14:03:00.000-08:00

It hasn't been a full-bodied, fleshy winter. I would say it has been almost skeletal. We have only needed to pull our snow-blower out once? (Corey will correct me if I am wrong). Although the snow hasn't been knocking on our door, there is life lingering in the marrow of it's bones. We have just had to work a little harder to get to it. And when we have found it, we glean every bit of nourishment that we can harvest before we return to our sleeping, malnourished yard. Yes, we will remember this year as the year that we were winter scavengers.

A School-free Monday in which we had "all you can eat" snow in Kellogg, Idaho. And we were almost the only customers.

Emmy is so snow-stuffed that she can barely sit up.

Savanna, trying desperately to hide the possibility that she may actually be having a good time.

A workless Friday when Corey and I can feast gluttonously on the back side of Mt. Spokane.

The backside of ME

savanna is 14.....a self conducted birthday party

2012-02-25T13:21:00.000-08:00

Are you wondering why I don't have any pictures from Savanna's birthday party with her friends?? Because. I. didn't. have.to.be.there.

And I didn't want to.

Is that horrible?

I am close to certain that I didn't want to because I knew that I was not wanted.

She's 14

And six teenaged girls in a house with too much sugar is LOUD in a high-pitched, health risk sort of way.

We provided the pizza and cake and then checked in on them every once in a while to make sure they weren't burning anything (I only say that because it was something that I may or may not have done when I was her age).

I think it went well because one of her friends asked if we could do it again next month.

I said, "Fine, as soon as I get some more earplugs."

We were able to celebrate her birthday, family style, a few days later. There was fire, but our ear-drums were in no danger.

I was even provided with a detailed, double-sided, two paged wish list, complete with photographs, websites, and brands. She basically did all the work. If only she didn't kind of hate me, I could almost like this teenager phase.

a little trip to Utah

2012-02-16T19:06:00.000-08:00

Because sometimes you need to go where everybody knows your LAME....

meaning a place where your weaknesses and vulnerabilities are known and embraced.
where empathy is expressed without even one uttered syllable.
where you don't feel impossibly crazy for being crazy
where you can talk or not talk
where no one needs you to feed them
where you can mute all of your "adult" burdens and put adolescence on speakerphone

I was fortunate enough to have 5 days in Utah on my own. Thank you to all of you that made this journey memorable.

It was like having hours of therapy and fun at the same time.

Things that I am now able to cross off my bucket list:

1. conduct a freeze mob in honor of Martin Luther King
2. see a psychic
3. get chased by the Police at Trolley Square Mall over a small misunderstanding involving bouncy balls being dropped from the 2nd floor. I will never fool around at the Trolley Square Mall. It is NOT a Jolly Mall.
4. Go Wolf Hunting on BYU campus and get police beat record.
5. Sing "American Pie" with a group of strangers.

new years eve 2011

2012-02-02T22:43:00.001-08:00

Corey bought tickets to Beethoven's 9th Symphony months ago. It inspired him in the past and I think he was hoping that it would ignite the tiny spark of interest that Savanna has in orchestra. Savanna was invited to a New Year's Eve party this week. There was very little discussion as to whether or not we should let our 14 yr. old go to a party with her peers or force her to attend the symphony with her parents. We have enough resentment seeping from under her door at night.
And I wasn't really in the mood.....again. I really have been the Grinch who steals all the fun from the Holiday Season. Luckily, I have an amazingly annoying husband, meant in the best possible way. He knows just how to push me out of my cocoon, initially causing unfathomable infuriation, but always leaving me ultimately grateful for the push.
How can you be in a bad mood when you have front row seats to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony? We were sitting so close that I was drinking the sweat of the brow of the conductor. Maybe a little too close.
It was fantastic but I was ready to go home. So was Emmy. Not Corey. Utilizing his infinite and finely tuned coercion abilities, he convinced us to stay for the remainder of the First Night Spokane Activities. Or maybe it was because he had the keys to the car. Either way, by the end of the night, I was grateful that we had stayed.

We got to see the dinosaur creation that Emmy helped create in one of her classes.

Ansel had the opportunity to slide down an ice slide.

We saw a few comedians, musicians, and jump ropers.

Ansel dug deep into his reservoir of high hoped resolutions............

and wrote, "I resolve to a great day"

Way to dream, Ansel.

He put his resolution into mouth of the resolution dinosaur.

Emmy wiped her teary eyes to watch the midnight fireworks. She really does cry when she is forced to stay up late.

Happy New Year.

christmas

2012-02-02T22:13:00.001-08:00

Is it weird that my favorite part of Christmas this year was our eagle watching hike in Coeur d'lane on Christmas eve?

The camera battery died at this point and I didn't even care. Sorry, kids. Not much Christmas Spirit coming from the mom section of the couch. I took a three hour nap while Corey cooked a divine roast beast for dinner that I won't forget anytime soon.

emmy turned 12 on December 18th.

2012-02-02T21:51:00.001-08:00

A letter to Emmy on your 12th birthday,

You are 12. I can't believe that you are 12. I have to remind myself every day when you come down the stairs that you will probably look a little different than you did when you went to bed the night before. I still sometimes catch myself gasping in shock. One day a few weeks ago, you had your hair pulled back. You looked like a beautiful woman.

One night when I couldn't sleep (I am ecstatic that you have not inherited this curse from me) I watched
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The movie is admittedly strange, but I wept when the father wrote this letter to his daughter who he wouldn't be able to raise:

"For what it's worth: it's never too late to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

Emmy, I love this letter because it embodies everything that I love about life. I hope you know that you can be whoever you want to be. I hope that you don't feel limited by fear , cultural constraints, or lack of proper parenting. Your potential is as big as the universe. You can't control what happens to you, but you can decide if you will make the best of it. This was true of how you handled your braces this year. You really didn't want them and fought it for a while. But it didn't take long for you to decide to just make the best of the situation. I hope that life is a journey for you and that you won't worry so much about each outcome, but will be able to notice the startling things along the way. I hope you feel things you have never felt before...these feelings will cover a huge spectrum and they won't always be pleasant. I can't and shouldn't protect you from these feelings as much as my heart sometimes wants filter everything but joy and happiness. The more that you are able to feel, the more able you become to respond with empathy to others. You are brave and adventurous. You swam across a freezing lake this summer. I'm sure that this was a startling experience that you won't forget anytime soon. I hope that you are also brave and adventurous with the people that you allow into your life, People have so much to offer us with different ideas and experiences. We shouldn't be afraid to find the good in everyone.

In reality, Emmy, I don't think that you need my advice. I was reminded when I watched this movie that age is irrelevant. We can all learn and expand our worldview from our interactions with people of all ages and corners of the world. I know that I have told you that you were born with a wise disposition. I have often felt more like your child. I hope this has never been a burden to you. Your teacher told us this year that you are miles ahead of the class that your classmates look to you as their guide and intellectual leader. We nodded our heads in understanding. This is exactly how we feel about you, Maybe you should write us a letter of advice.

I love you.
Mom

For her birthday, she and her friends terrorize the streets of Spokane.

and get treats from a really pretty cupcake shop.

Her friends at church give her a heart attack when she is not home. I promise that she is happier than she looks.

It is my birthday every time I can catch Savanna with a genuine smile on her face.

She can't seem to get them all out.

She realizes that they are trick candles and they will just keep relighting.

Emmy will not give up. On a new plan of attack, she gets low enough to dip her nose in the frosting.

a december saturday

2012-01-31T09:54:00.001-08:00

This has been a strange pre-winter, both meteorologically and astrologically. The precipitations are refusing to accept their lot in life at this time of year.......refusing to lose all sense of personal space by laying their white bodies down together in blankets of huddled and intermingled snow. In their belligerent denial, they frantically and individually cling to whatever they can find during the gravitational fall rather than resigning themselves to sharing the earth with the other precips. This wintry pose doesn't seductively lure us to touch, caress, or wrestle with it some way. It is a state in which we lower our faces as close as we can to the freeze mob sculptures, taking care not to assault it with our warm breath, and lurk in awe of the beauty created by their moodiness.
I, too, have not been in the mood to welcome this season with open arms. I have found myself doing whatever it takes to claim my personal space, clinging to whatever corners I can find, taking on a sharp swordlike appearance in an effort ward off ........well, everyone. I'm sure I will settle into this uninvited season in my life. Despite my harsh, bristly exterior, I am also fragile enough to be softened with just a wisp of wam breath.

backcountry with my boy

2012-01-28T10:15:00.000-08:00

From down below it was a cloudy, grey, stay in bed kind of day.

We just needed to rise above

South Africa.....Untamed

2012-01-27T16:32:00.000-08:00

We spent our last afternoon in Capetown only getting our toes wet at the vast Kiirstenbosch Botanical Garden. It was hot and we were a little road weary, but I still personally felt quite moved by the symbiotic relationship created with natural beauty intermingled with the manmade art and sculptures .

We even got to witness a wedding ceremony.

My absolute favorite was a temporary exhibition called "Untamed" It is a living wall, a set of solar panels, incredible sculptures, heart defibrillation poetry and a fine example of architecture ' by sculptor Dylan Lewis, architect Enrico Daffonchio and psychologist, psychiatrist and writer Ian McCallum. It somehow was a visceral summary of what my trip to South Africa has meant to me and how it has changed me. Being in South Africa was awake up and smell the red tea, re-member, re-connect and reflect on our part in the natural order of things or we will fast lose what we have ---we are interconnected in our humanness and our earthiness.

"when we look at the world as a mirror, when we discover that our sense of freedom and authenticity is linked to the well being and authenticity of others - and that includes the animals, the trees and the land." Ian McCullam. This is how I would sum up my two weeks here in this part of the world in 50 words or less.

It was the poetry that really got to me.

'Having turned a blind eye to the fact that we are part of nature's great diversity, we have become ecologically unintelligent',
Ian McCallum

One day
your soul will call to you
with a holy rage.
“Rise up!” it will say …
Stand up inside your own skin.
Unmask your unlived life …
feast on your animal heart.
Unfasten your fist …
let loose the medicine
in your own hand.
Show me the lines …
I will show you the spoor
of the ancestors.
Show me the creases …
I will show you
the way to water.
Show me the folds …
I will show you the furrows
for your healing.
“Look!” it will say …
the line of life has four paths –
one with a mirror
one with a mask,
one with a fist,
one with a heart.
One day,
your soul will call to you
with a holy rage.

We have to stop speaking about the Earth being in need of healing. The Earth does not need healing.
We do. Our task is to rediscover ourselves in Nature. It is an individual choice. And how or where do we begin? We begin exactly where we are right now, when we look at the world as a mirror, when we discover that our sense of freedom and authenticity is linked to the well being and authenticity of others - and that includes the animals, the trees and the land. ~ Ian McCallum

Homecoming
You have come this far...
keep moving...don't turn back.
No one holds the measure
of their own undoing....no one,
the meaning of their dying.
Hold what lives
behind the masks
of your own making...
the music of your wild name.
Know that every tumble,
every turn on your twisting path
is a dance within a living
church of elements...
a sanctuary of stars
wings, breath and bone
where the masks of your making
are undone. ~ Ian McCallum

Have we forgotten

That wilderness is not a place,

But a pattern of the soul Where every tree, every bird and beast

Is a soul maker?

Have we forgotten

That wilderness is not a place

But a moving feast of the starts,

Footprints, scales and beginnings?

Since when did we become afraid of the night

And that only the bright starts count?

Or that our moon is not a moon

Unless it is full?

By who’s command

Were the animals

Through groping fingers,

One for each hand,

Reduced to the big and little five?

Have we forgotten

That every creature is within us

Carried by tides

Of earthly blood

And that we named them?

Have we forgotten

That wilderness is not a place

But a season

And that we are in its final hour.

the cradle of humankind

2012-01-27T16:29:00.000-08:00

I saw first hand the fruits of humans being kind on our way to the Cradle of Humankind. Emmy and Ansel laughed, hugged, and played cards on the 2 hour drive from Johannesburg. I had to capture the way his arms were wrapped around her waist.

The Cradle of Humankind is a place of major significance. It was here we first became human. Here where we first stood upright on our own two, rather oddly shaped, feet, explored the uses to which we could put our usefully opposed thumbs, and experimented with more and more sophisticated grunts as we tried to make sense of our environment. Its also the place where 1.8 million years ago we first "domesticated" fire. Little Foot is a child fossil over 3 million years' old. The poor child fell through a hole in the roof of the caves, died and was fossilized to be found in the present day. Thousands of other hominid and animal fossils have been found here, and the caves and museum are fascinating to see. We had a guide that was both hilarious and informative. I mentioned in an earlier post that their is a certain heartbeat that I feel here in Africa.....as if this is where the blood is recycled and sent to the rest of the world. This is the place that we first became human. It is a strong presence. I was so excited to be here.

Some tight spots. Duane (Corey's Dad overcame his paralyzing fear of caves and came with us, never evening fainting once that I was aware of.)

. A bronze statue of Robert Bloom, the man who discovered the Australophiticus Africanus, is located towards the end of the tour. It is said that touching his nose will make you smarter. I can't remember what you were supposed to touch to make you wiser. I must have touched that part because I am definitely NOT smarter.

I'm not sure that we have evolved all that much

On our way home, we were stopped by a strike in the middle of the freeway. Cars were just stopped while people danced, drank and jumped on cars. There was litter everywhere. Initially, it was exciting to be a part of the political process of expressing dismay through party. It soon became scary as we could see that people were becoming more intoxicated and seemingly a little more angry.

Have we come all that far in the past 3 million years?

South Africa.....The Wildlife

2012-01-24T11:43:00.000-08:00

South Africa...The food

2011-11-24T21:48:00.000-08:00

To sum up our culinary experience in South Africa, I would say: The cheese and ice cream were unbelievably delicious. The meat was too gamey and popular. I'm not a meat lover and vegetarianism is almost an insult here. Not enough fresh fruits and vegetables. Fish was fantastic.

our meal in Soweto. I'm not sure what everything was, but I will not be eating cow tongue again.

Our South African fellow tourist travelers couldn't believe that we weren't familiar with this "companion to every meal" It tasted like straight bouillon to me and some people spread it on their bread like butter.
Honestly, with the name like marmite, it screams rodent jerky. That is exactly what it tasted like. No thanks.

Oh, how we had such fun with the candy bars and snacks. Our favorite was the p.s. bar, which is like eating a personal valentine. One of our safari guides told us that he used to give them to girls he fancied, with messages such as, "Watcha doin' later, or I miss you," to be taken quite seriously. America, what is wrong with your chocolate? Please, get it together and bring the Nosh bar and P.S. bar here soon. And why are our potato chips so boring?

There is no root beer in South Africa. The closest you can get is this ginger beer. And just ask Ansel; it is not even close.

Emmy will be permanently radioactive after drinking this creme soda.

Bags of Macadamia nuts for about two dollars. I kick myself everyday for not throwing away all my clothes and filling my suitcase with these. Stupid Stupid Stupid

Even though they are exciting and mysterious in name, they are not worth repeating in taste. Emmy said that they taste like barbecued chicken in a bad way.

One unforgettable meal was in Hout Bay. The clam chowder was unforgettable and the fish was........let's just say that it is one of those things that I will forever crave.

We did have to resort to a few petrol station meals. This breakfast drink was actually fantastic. I am on a search to find someone that sells it here in the U.S.

I can't believe that I never tasted ostrich. I think it was because it seemed like such a tourist attraction food.

Ansel and I both loved the Rooibos( Pronounced Roy-Boss), also known as Bush Tea. The red bush is a native shrub of south Africa, where people have made tea from it for hundreds of years and is used by some tribes for medicinal purposes for treatment of hay fever symptoms, asthma, eczema and to soothe heartburn, ease the pain of stomach ulcers and relieve nausea. I didn't notice any magical powers, but I didn't get sick in South Africa. We were at a Halloween party recently where the kids were offered hot chocolate. Ansel replied, "I don't like hot chocolate, but I would love some Bush tea".

South Africa......the land

2011-11-24T21:00:00.000-08:00

south africa.....the people

2011-11-24T20:47:00.000-08:00

We do not know, we do not know. We shall live from day to day, and put more locks on the doors and get a fine fierce dog when the fine fierce dog next door has pups, and hold on our handbags more tenaciously; and the beauty of the trees by night, and the raptures of lovers under the stars, these things we shall forego. We shall forego the evening walk over the star-lit veld. We shall be careful, and knock off our lives, and knock that off our lives, and hedge ourselves about with safety and precaution. And our lives will shrink, but they they shall be the lives of superior beings; and we shall live with fear, but at least it will not be a fear of the unknown. And the conscience shall be thrust down; the light of life shall not be extinguished, but be put under a bushel to be preserved for a generation that will live by it again in some day not yet come.

Cry the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. LEt him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

There is one thing that has power completely, and that is love. Because when a man loves, he seeks no power, and therefore he has power. I see only one hope of our country, and that is when white men and black men, desiring neither power nor money, but desiring only the good of their country, come together to work for it.

Cry the Beloved Country........Alan Paton

We had more than a few people tell us to be careful when we traveled to South Africa in September to visit Corey's parents. We were told that we should rent a gun at the airport, keep our car windows up and locked, don't drink the water or eat the food, watch out for deadly snakes, leave jewelry or expensive cameras at home. I have to admit that I grew a little nervous, especially when a few people responded with an obvious edge disappointment that we would put the lives of our children in danger. Were we being reckless? I tucked my wedding ring in my closet and left my nice camera at home. I wasn't in the country 24 hours before this fear was dissolved quickly by the love that I felt for the people here. Again, I have put off writing about our international trip with the sickening realization that I can never adequately express how the introduction to a new part of the world has changed me. I just can't do it, but I have to fail at trying rather than fail to try.

I couldn't get over these miles and miles of endless shantytowns. The words of U2 kept going through my mind. I listened to this song about 1000 times my junior year in high school. In fact, I would have no idea what apartheid was, if not for Bono. I didn't know what I could do about this and about the pollution that Geneva Steel was coughing into our air, but I did let these things bug me as much as a seventeen year old could be bugged.

In the shit house a shotgun
Praying hands hold me down
Only the hunter was hunted
In this tin can town
Tin can town

No stars in the black night
Looks like the sky fell down
No sun in the daylight
Looks like it's chained to the ground
Chained to the ground
The warden said
The exit is sold
If you want a way out
Silver and gold

Broken back to the ceiling
Broken nose to the floor
I scream at the silence, it's crawling
It crawls under the door
There's a rope around my neck
And there's a trigger in your gun
Jesus say something
I am someone, I am someone
I am someone

Captain and kings
In the ships hold
They came to collect
Silver and gold
Silver and gold

Seen the coming and going
Seen them captains and the kings
See them navy blue uniforms
See them bright and shiny things
Bright shiny things

The temperature is rising
The fever white hot
Mister, I ain't got nothing
But it's more than you got

Chains no longer bind me
Not the shackles at my feet
Outside are the prisoners
Inside the free
Set them free
Set them free

A prize fighter in a corner is told
Hit where it hurts
Silver and gold
Silver and gold

" Yep, silver and gold... This song was written in a hotel room in New York city 'round about the time a friend or ours, little Steven, was putting together a record of artists against apartheid. This is a song written about a man in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg. A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of white South Africa. A man who is at the point where he is ready to take up arms against his oppressor. A man who has lost faith in the peacemakers of the west while they argue and while they fail to support a man like bishop Tutu and his request for economic sanctions against South Africa.
Am I buggin' you? I don't mean to bug ya..."

I also had these words memorized.

Our first day in South Africa.

The school where we picked up Massie, the granddaughter of our tour guide through Soweto.

These kids asked if we were movie stars

This is Thoba Karl-Halla with her grand-daughter. She is a friend of Corey's parents and was kind enough to spend the day giving us an enlightened tour of Soweto, the largest township in South Africa and a hotbed of activity during the Apartheid movement. Thoba had personal stories to tell of being arrested when she didn't have her i.d. card with her, and being scared much of the time. Her mother was Julia Mavimbela, who was very much involved in the Soweto community back in the 70's during Apartheid. She organized 'Women for Peace', a group that 'aimed to form a peaceful transition to true democracy in South Africa'. She was one of very few black women to receive a college education and the first black female school principals in South Africa. She became a widow at a young age when her husband was killed in a "car accident". She led an organization to help women "overcome illiteracy, crime, disease, unjust laws that make African women feel helpless and hopeless. I can't think of a better way to begin our two weeks in this country.

Our first stop was the current home of Nelson Madela. The security guard allowed us to get out and take a few pictures.

Our next stop was the Roman Catholic church, Regina Mundi, which earned the reputation of being one of the main centres of anti-apartheid activism. During the Soweto uprising of June 16th 1976, students who marched against the requirement imposed by the apartheid government that Afrikaans replace English as the language of instruction fled to Regina Mundi. The police entered the church, firing live ammunitions. No one was killed, although many were injured and the church itself, as well as its furniture, decorations, and symbols (for example the marble altar and the statue of Christ), were damaged. Both the interior and the external walls of the church still bear the signs of the shootings.
Hector Pieterson was a 12-year-old boy who was killed by a stray bullet shot by over-zealous police; he was only one of over five hundred who died during the riots.

This is the famous photo of Hector after he was shot by police.

Ansel and Massie in front of Nelson Mandela's home in Soweto, where he lived when he was arrested.

Massie teaches Ansel a game called "Ketto?" which seemed a bit like jax, but played with rocks.

We snuck out of church for a little while to get a feel for the neighborhood. Part of my was scared by what we saw. Most of me was angry for being scared and determined to not let this fear become a wall.

This event occurred the first few weeks of my senior year, and I remember it well because, as I mentioned above, I was obsessed with U2 and felt that dancing to the music somehow made me political. I actually thought that my enthusiasm somehow contributed to this revolution. This seems ridiculous, right? But don't you think it strange that Bono attended Desmond Tutu's 80th birthday party here in Capetown a few days after we were at this very spot in Capetown?

Funny tourists

11-11-11 at 11:11

2011-11-17T16:32:00.000-08:00

Halloween

2011-11-17T16:02:00.000-08:00

Making skittles out of skids

2011-11-08T11:26:00.000-08:00

I dropped the kids off at school and began my focused missions for the day. Less than 5 minutes and 2 miles later, my mission was momentarily stalled while I waited for the car in front of me to turn left in one of those maddening places where it takes forever to find an open spot to sneak through. I saw a car in my rear view mirror also waiting for the said car to turn left. Just as the car found its opportunity, before I could put my foot on the gas pedal, I heard a loud crash and in less than the second that it took me to register that the car behind me had been hit, I was the recipient of the 2nd hand crash when the hit car then smacked into me. It wasn't that forceful, but I was rattled with a substantial amount of annoyance and irritability, knowing what would happen next....the waiting for the police, the exchange of information, the delay of my day, the trips to the body shop, etc. etc. Plus, it was freezing and I didn't want to get out of my car.
Regardless, I got out of my car and immediately surmised that the damage to the other cars had been quite bad. An elderly man limped out of his car, a cast already on his left foot. The entire front of his car was smashed like an accordion with smoke and lethal green battery acid pouring over the street. He was obviously in shock, but made a point to apologize and tell us all that it was his fault, that his foot had slipped from his brake pedal. I offered him my cell phone, but he confessed that he had never used a cell phone and his hands were shaking too badly to use it, even if he knew how. I called his daughter at work and she said she was on her way in a tone that revealed that she knew this day would come. The man refused to sit down and was worried about the two dogs in his car. The driver of the second vehicle came out and was surprisingly calm and pleasant. We called the police and a fire engine came quickly to diffuse the acid situation. A few people ran over to make sure we were ok and to offer assistance. One woman who had just finished an all night shift of work and was heading to her second job, gave up her free hour to give the police a witness report and offer hot coffee to anyone else waiting. Another woman came out of her house to offer the dogs a warm place to wait.
It did take a long time. It was freezing. It did take a big chunk out of my day.
But it wasn't annoying.
How could I be mad at a cute, rattled 89 year old man who hasn't quite come to terms with his aging body?
I got to meet people that I would never have met otherwise.
I saw my community in kind and thoughtful action.
A nice distraction from my focused missions.

I swear I am not wishing you an unhappy birthday

2011-10-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

October 17th was Corey's 39th birthday. Here is a photo documenting our celebration. It was a hoot, obviously. I don't know what Moriarty put a curse upon this day. but I swear it wasn't me. I openly confess to the leading role that I have played in the destruction of all possible glee for at least two of these October seventeenths, but the other botched birthdays have been beyond my control. Filled with stalwart determination, I challenged our unnamed nemesis, vowing that this year would be the year of OUR victory. Our foe will cower while we bathe ourselves in the spoils of this war...... Corey falling asleep with a smile in his heart and the knowledge that he is loved.....that karma had finally rewarded his time living deliberately on this earth with an nod of approval. The kids and I combined forces and tried to follow all the rules of a good birthday.

1. Gifts thoughtfully purchased and even more thoughtfully designed and customized. Check
2. Pre-work morning acknowledgment and texts of endearment during the day. Check
3. Favorite meal prepared and waiting for him when he returns from his rough day at work. Check
4. Cake ready. Check
5. Table specially set with a surprising change of table runner and 4 ambient candles. Check
6. Family seated together to radiate our love and appreciation. Check
7. Open gifts, enjoy an unforgettable meal, and take photos of him blowing out 39 candles on his cake while he wishes only for another birthday equal to this in greatness. UPCHUCK.

I initially aligned myself with the dinner table, only to moments later become a defector and swear my allegiance to the toilet bowl for remainder of the evening, leaving Corey to feed the troops, clean up his own birthday dinner, and wipe vomit from the tip of my nose. The poor cake was abandoned. After the expulsion of the entirety of my innards, when my mind would finally accept any material other than survival, this thought enrolled itself into my school of thought:

"I seem to be the common denominator in the demolitions of this day of Doady's deliverance." (Doady is my nickname for Corey and I had to remain true to my alliteration.)

Next year will be better? Next year will be better. Next year will be Better!

There I go again, making his day all about me.

Cross it off the Bucket List

2011-10-26T00:07:00.000-07:00

Years ago, when we first moved to Spokane, one of my first bike rides took me south of town on Hangman Valley Road. I was enchanted by the deer grazing in the fields, the lack of traffic, the peaceful atmosphere, and "the house." There is something about abandoned, crumbing houses that get my adrenaline going. Seven years later, we moved only two miles away from "the house." and my running/walking/biking route has taken me within view of "the house" hundreds of times. I would have ventured into the home years ago, if not for this darn creek and its scary, mysterious contents. Judging from all the living and dead snakes, coyotes, and porcupine that I have seen on the outskirts of this creek, I am fairly certain of what lurks in the surrounding tall grasses. There is also the small matter of my close to certainty that it is on private property and the wide open space around the house would leave me vulnerable to protective property owners/hunter and their shotguns( We are close to Idaho, after all). But still, the house called to me every time I passed. It was an itch left unscratched.....a final episode of a season series unseen......an easter egg left unfound. I knew that one day I would go. It must have been the ghosts of the history of that home that whispered in my ear one late summer day when I was feeling that my life was a sad list of goals left unfinished. If I couldn't get my kids to do one remotely productive thing all summer, I could at least do something that I have wanted to do.

This is the creek. It doesn't look all that daunting, but take my word for it when I say that it is scary. I normally love water, but there is something about this creek that gives me the creeps. It took me a while to get into the water and I immediately sunk into slimy, miasmic mud, moss creeping around my legs, and fish nibbling at my unshaven knees. I was panicked, but had to go on. Once I was across, I clawed my way up the banks, hoping not to mistake a snake for a blade of grass, or even worse, see a dead body. The grass was almost to my shoulders and this was a little exciting and terrifying at the same time. My legs were itching, but I had a sense of accomplishment because I thought I had made it across.......only to find another hidden arm of the creek, just as uninviting as the first. I had no idea how deep it was going to be, mostly because the mud could sink me a feet or fathoms deeper than it appeared. When it got to my chest, I became worried. I was holding my cell phone above my head and hoped I could spare it from a swim. I have the photos to prove that I did.

I made it! Other than the fear that I would be shot any minute, I indulged in the comforting embrace of someone else's history.....someone who lived here and had stories to tell. I did my best to listen. Even though I didn't know details, I could feel something. Pain and happiness, life and death.

After I was full, I couldn't bring myself to cross back over the creek. I decided to head west, knowing that somewhere along the way, I would reach the freeway and could walk back home that way. In retrospect, I'm not sure which way was worse. I had to climb over barbed wire fences, shove my way through daggered branches, shuffle through stinging nettle, run from a few barking dogs, and endure the stings of at least 8 wasps.

This picture doesn't adequately portray the damage to my legs.

And this looks pretty, right? It's the devil in disguise.

BUT I DID IT.

I ACTUALLY ACCOMPLISHED A GOAL

These little things can be big for a mother of a teen-ager who unvociferously reminds her every day that she is failing as a mother.

Oh, and the next time I passed the house, it was GONE. Weird, huh?

I do believe in ghosts.....sometimes.

September Spokefest 2011

2011-10-23T22:37:00.000-07:00

The throngs

Before we join the throngs.

Emmy was recovering from a vaccination gone wrong and so Savanna's friend, Emma, took her place.

Even though he really wanted to, Ansel wasn't quite ready to do the mileage on his own. He got to be a passenger on the "Big Dummy." the bike Corey built. Quite a few people came up to Corey to ogle and praise the contraption.

Can you believe I actually caught Savanna smiling before 9 am......on a bike? Miracles do happen.

Waiting to start....Savanna may be a little upset that we arrived way too early....extra minutes that could have been spent in bed on a weekend morning.

Still waiting

Corey and my shadow

After the ride. It got quite hot, but the kids all did great. Shall we do the 42 miler next year?

It helped having Ansel buddy Spencer ride along with us most of the way.

Ansel wanted a chance to ride on his own....away from the throngs of wheels and spokes.

Valhala, Canada

2011-09-23T22:54:00.000-07:00

swimming lessons

2011-09-23T22:53:00.001-07:00

backcountry truck camping

2011-09-23T22:53:00.000-07:00

Braces

2011-09-23T22:52:00.000-07:00

BEFORE

AFTER: I still can't get her to hope her mouth

huckleberry day

2011-09-23T22:51:00.000-07:00

sandpoint, idaho

2011-09-23T22:50:00.000-07:00

other fun stuff in Utah

2011-09-23T22:45:00.000-07:00

PENDING

Superheroes working after hours

2011-09-23T18:51:00.000-07:00

Snowbird Weekend

2011-09-23T17:30:00.000-07:00

MORE TO COME......just a sneak peak

feeding the fishes after they fed themselves.....Utah 2011

2011-09-23T16:43:00.000-07:00

Paragliding

2011-09-23T16:41:00.000-07:00

THE PARAGLIDING POSSE

I tend to get a little attitude when I where helmets.

Carrie impresses the instructors with he skills

Man down

This isn't us.................yet

The Great Salt Lake

2011-09-23T16:38:00.000-07:00

I come from rough and tough stock

Family Reunion....June 30th - July 5th 2011

2011-09-23T16:33:00.000-07:00

MORE TO COME...Here is just a sample.

moab and arches

2011-09-23T14:46:00.000-07:00

Escalante/Goblin Valley

2011-09-23T14:03:00.000-07:00

Next Stop Bryce

2011-09-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

zion=home

2011-09-20T21:43:00.000-07:00

SSummer is now officially over and I have yet to document any of it. I think that is a sign of a successful summer. I will start with the photos and add the commentary later. I feel swamped by our adventures. It ithe nicest way to be swamped.

Sasquatch 2011...May 2011...yes, that is how far I am behind, and yes, I do intend to catch up

2011-09-19T20:48:00.000-07:00

Corey and I were able to spend two entire days at the annual Sasquatch festival this year. We've have gone for a

day in the past, but were inhibited by the needed care and protection of our wee ones. We were comfortable this

year with leaving them in the hands of my sister and brother in law in Albion. We could have gone for the entirety

of the festival, but I was there was a little too much free love and free drugs for my liberal, but NOT THAT liberal

taste. Each year that I grow older, I seem to appreciate music a little more. My theory is that with life comes

experiences and an expanded range of emotion which lends to the appreciation of live music on a deeper and more

personal level. You know how there is always that one random old man or woman tearing up the front with their

unabashed love for music, almost to the point that you begin to worry that their skin may fall off whilst getting their

next groove on? I'm sure that is going to be me someday. .l

THE HEAD AND THE HEART.......Worth the whole show. Best new artist for me.

MODEST MOUSE....I was excited to see them live, but they seemed to lack a little....hum.......soul........

soberness,........or possibly humility. Not worth staying till the end.

DAN MANGAM: My favorite new solo artist. Doesn't he just reek of humble Canadianness?

COLD WAR KIDS. Corey loved these guys. It was a little too

rock and roll for me.

Bright Eyes....didn't seem to want to show his eyes. This was a strange performance. I have always enjoyed the

rants and squacky protests that Conor has to offer, but tonight he was downright preachy. Annoying. Hope it is

just a phase.

BEACH HOUSE. Liked her voice, but could quite get into it.

MATT AND KIM.....I want them to come live with me and get me up in the morning. Loved them.

Half the fun of Sasquatch is watching all the people who would come to a concert wearing a costume rendering them completely unable to watch the concert.

FLAMING LIPS......ALL FROSTING........no cake. Frosting is good for the first few bites, but then it just makes

you sick.

FLOGGING MOLLY: Best band to dance in a big group with. I loved this. Corey tolerated it.

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE.....My favorite re-peat concert. Although I didn't recognize the thinner, less fun uncle sort

of Ben Gibbard, none of his honesty and depth has been lost. Got goosebumps.

more delightful mother-son chats

2011-09-16T11:39:00.000-07:00

Me, "Ansel, I noticed that all the other kids kiss or hug their parents when they say good-bye at the school, while you, on the other hand, run away or do a blacktop belly flop when I try to hug you. Maybe if you let me hug you once in a while, I wouldn't bug you so much."

Ansel. "Exactly, Mom. HUGGING EQUALS BUGGING."

a few days earlier

Me. "If you forget your lunch, would you like me to bring it to you or would you rather go hungry."

Ansel. "I'd rather go hungry."

Self-diagnosis in one very long sentence and one very short sentence

2011-09-15T17:22:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a recent visit to the doctor in which this particular doctor, not our regular physician, googled Emmy's symptoms into his computer while voicing his opinion that "you don't need a medical license anymore, you just need google," I decided to be my own health care advocate by googling my own symptoms, the results being that I may have ovarian cancer, uterine cancer, IBS, aspartame poisoning, Chrone's disease, anxiety disorder, colon cancer, multiple sclerosis, or possibly hypochondria.

Just call me Dr. Googlejudd.

First day of Second, Sixth, and Eighth.

2011-09-07T23:47:00.000-07:00