Colorful and Happy

My best friend invited me to her house on her 8th birthday. After eating ice cream cake she plugged in her suitcase turn table and we danced to She’s So Unusual. I envied her Hello Kitty binder with matching paper but most of all that Cyndi Lauper album. I wanted to live inside Cyndi’s warm accepting 80’s world. I remember the 80’s as a cold conservative time. But Cyndi was colorful and happy.  Her music made me feel like it’s gonna be ok. 

This is her Twitter profile pic. I pasted it into my art journal for inspiration.

She’s had her struggles, “on my darkest days I wear my brightest colors.” After all this time she continues to forge ahead in her own colorful way. She’s truly a star.

A Tale From The Fields

I love my mother’s stories. Thinking of her today for no particular reason. Reposting this with her in my heart.

Square One Notes

A Migrant's Tale

Pancho Rabbit and the Coyote, A Migrant’s Tale by Duncan Tonatiuh, Abrams Books 2013

Oliva,

I found this beautiful book that I can’t wait to share with you when you are older. It’s called Pancho Rabbit and the Coyote, A Migrant’s Tale. What a great way to share a bit of our family story with you. The illustrations are as brilliant as the writing. Your (Gram)Mita loves to tell stories in this tradition as well. Her favorites to share are spooky ghost stories. Not just a little scary either. She would tell tales that were so detailed and frightening I would clench my eyes shut in a futile attempt to blunt the vivid imagery. I will spare you that fear and instead share a more curious than scary story that your Mita once told me. I hope you like it. But first you must know that before your…

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To the Rabbit Hole

Here’s a glimpse of what the weekend looked like:

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No time to say hello goodbye I’m late I’m late I’m late! -The White Rabbit

Snapped this at the vineyard where Erik’s cousin exchanged vows. A beautifully rustic backdrop.

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I wish I shot a picture of the roof from the inside. Slats of wood where you could see daylight peeking through. Good thing rain is an exotic notion around here and clearly wasn’t a consideration.image

Never mind the exit sign, this is us upon arrival.

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Pausing for a quick family photo. I am so proud of hubby for taking this so seriously, without a peep from me. Can you believe his attire was more formal than the groom? I don’t know how to dress for weddings anymore. The trend is much more relaxed and casual it seems, “now you may high five the bride.”

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Sparkling apple juice for the littlest lamb. Father daughter dance before my iphone pooped out on me for the night:

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It occurred to me too late in the evening that there is such a thing as too much red wine and so I wasted half a day like so:

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Ugh. Embarrassing. What’s wrong with me? Was there a bride and groom you ask? Yes they were very beautiful and happy. You will have to take my word for it as I wasn’t able to snap a decent shot from my perch at the bar. Yes I’m exaggerating. Honestly, I’m a cheap date. It only takes two glasses of wine to incapacitate me for half a day. Which brings me around to this week’s posts. I usually take a day to draft a week’s worth of notes. That didn’t happen as planned as I’m sure you can imagine. I will do my best to stick to my Monday-Friday posts but it might be difficult to pull off as I’m behind. I hope you all had a great weekend! Looking forward to catching up with you.

 

 

A Noiseless Patient Poem

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Not only 3 apples high but 3 years old this month. A mini celebration in store this weekend.

Dear Kind Reader,

Let the Discovery Channel have their Shark Week. Sharing the week of the spider with you here was so much fun. I hope you liked it too. Before I log off for the weekend I wanted to share one last ode to our 8 legged friend. A favorite of mine from dear Walt Whitman.

I’ll be sure to let you know what Oliva thinks of her cake and balloons when I’m back. How about you? Any plans? Take care good people!

Love,

Sandra & Boris

A Noiseless Patient Spider

By Walt Whitman

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

This Week’s Fare

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Oliva loves playing beneath our young weeping cherry.

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She was not happy to hear about a series of brief guest posts on the blog this week.

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She was especially uneasy when she heard that the author who will be visiting is of the 8 legged variety. Remember Boris? If not, here’s last week’s introduction: Along Came A Spider. Oliva was delighted to learn it was only dear old Boris popping by to visit.

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Let’s see where this takes us…