A Theme Runs Through It

And thank goodness a river does, too. My idea of a successful summer is one spent partially submerged... most every day! In a pool, in the ocean, in a river, in a lake, in a cold clear trout stream, in an irrigation ditch, in the sprinkler, in a hot springs, in the dang bath tub. It just doesn't matter. We spend lots of time wet. I have a clothesline inside my car. We are often sandy and waterlogged.

We sleep well.

I gotta go....we're off to the river!

draft

independence day

For years I have been waiting for this.

They did it.

I am so proud and excited for them. It was my greatest pleasure as a child and now it is theirs, too.

I would ride to the country club and swim. I would ride to Izzo's Drug Store for a slaw dog and a vanilla coke. I would feed the fish at the courthouse and go visit my grandmother. I would explore back alleys and abandoned houses. I would slog through creeks and balance across (active) train trestles. I would deliberate for hours at the Sing Store in the candy aisle. (money truly has meaning when you are stretching your $2.00 allowance across an entire Saturday) I would play at the park and when it was unbearably hot on a July day in South Georgia I would go to the library and sit in the stacks on the floor and examine the bottom row of books in the cool dimness. When I was on my bike, out on the town, I was in charge of myself.

As Max put it so eloquently the other day, 'time was my own.'

So I was beside myself the other morning when Max announced that he was 'going to town'. Lew was going, too. They were going to the skate park. And it's not a short trip.
Seven or so miles on a very twisty county road and then a mile or two more downtown.

It was hard for me not to overwhelm them with directives, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Meet me at triangle park at 4:00." I said (it was only 9:30!) and I gave Max my watch.

"Don't forget to eat some lunch!" I shouted as they sped down the driveway, skateboards lashed to their backpacks.

No, they did not have a cell phone. (don't get me started on the 'invisible leash'...)

Yes, they had a blast.

And at 4:00 o 'clock I was very happy to see their shining faces.

They were tired and so proud of themselves. They talked non-stop about their adventures.

Time was "their own" and I remembered again what a wonderful gift that is.

happy anniversary baby

I even think he's handsome when covered in mud from head to toe. He almost looks like a statue. Most men probably would not take a flying leap into an enormous mud pit just to delight his children.

That's why I married this one.

they keep me laughing!

preschooler girl to preschooler boy:

Do you want to be my husband? I have a beautiful little rabbit.

Thank you God for 4WD and Goose Down.

The SNOW! Holy mackerel. Our lives right now look something like this....

Wake up.

Build fire.

Shovel.

Go to work.

Come home and shovel till dark.

Eat dinner and read in front of fire.

Shovel.

Go to bed.

Do it all again.

With lots more snow in the forecast it doesn't look like this schedule will change any time soon. But in truth, there is a certain zen like rhythm to it all. I like the shoveling. You can't not do it. It takes precedent over everything and sometimes that's nice.Being out in it and feeling the muted silence of the falling snow in our little valley is mystical. It's punctuated by the wild yells of the kids when they throw themselves off the front porch into the shoulder high drifts and especially when they throw the cat into those same drifts.....and he disappears. Or when the snow tunnel they've built collapses. And of course, there is the sledding and the skiing and snow boarding.

Della on skis is almost too much to bear. They taught her to ski with her hands on her hips and she is the definition of 'sassy'. Matt on a snow board is pretty special, too. The boys have passed us all.

I do like the coziness of winter. The big pot of soup on the wood stove, the cakes and pies and cookies that Matt is constantly turning out. The cramped quarters that are filled with music and books and laughs and candle light.

10-12 more inches of the white stuff tonight?

As Joe Kenworthy would say....

Let it Eat.

Has anybody seen the cat?

the plan

I love Christmas, but it's also overwhelming. We are leaving town this year in hopes of toning it down a notch. We are road tripping to Southern California. We are going to camp in Malibu and fulfill my dream of the camper covered in Christmas lights card that I am drawn to year after year. (you've seen it...the photograph of the solitary ham can with a string of lights)

We'll see the sights, eat lots of exotic foods, picnic under the Hollywood sign, find the best used book stores and thrift shops, hike, play at the beach, and of course, hit a few funky toy stores.

We will move into fancier digs on Christmas Eve and find a loud and bustling Chinese restaurant in Chinatown and then go to the prettiest church we can find.

Santa will come in a low key kind of way.

Someone mentioned that Lego land is in southern cal. Hhhhmmmmm.

I want to go to a wrestling match in Tijuana.

And maybe we'll wetsuit up and do some baja surfing.

Eat some lobster in Ensenada.

Suggestions are welcome!

I hope all you people out there who read my ramblings have a wonderful season...and I'll keep you posted on our where abouts!

ps! Santa says I'm getting a camera so I will be uploading MY OWN pictures again soon!

hey hey

My dear friend is going through some tough times. I called her yesterday to say hello and offer what I have to offer....colorful curses aimed at her soon to be ex and playmates for her children. And look what she brought me! We finally had time to chat, just as she was going into the thrift store. I'll call you back in a sec, she said, they close in 5 minutes. One minute later the phone rang.

Size 40 dansko? she said

we're old friends.

Score! I said

And then she delivered these beauties to my doorstep.

$6.00.

Yep.

Thank you Suzanne!

And Listen Up Friend! I know this is yucky and hard, but you are tough and wonderful and very soon you will find yourself with an exciting new path before you and you will fling yourself down it to wild adventure and greener pastures.

Mark my words.

white trash?

taco bell + 5 kids with no shoes on + the neighbor baby in only her panties and coat + spit balls....do we qualify?

I think yes.

HOLA!

Boy have I missed this little blog spot. I had absolutely no intention of letting five whole weeks go by without posting, but somehow it did. A few changes have taken place in my life. From the previous post, you know that we have moved. We did not go far. As the crow flies we are probably only a mile from where we were. 

We were offered a deal that we couldn't refuse.

A friend called and said that she had an old trailer for rent. 

She said it was a one bedroom.

She said it was absolutely horrible and that she had immediately thought of us.

She said the setting was actually quite nice.

She said the rent was next to nothing.

We said Hell Yeah.

And so we moved. And I must say that life is good. The setting is absolutely breathtaking. We are in a very narrow little valley that could be a movie set for an epic saga. Dramatic stone cliffs hanging over a pristine lake and green valley. Five folks in a one bedroom trailer is cozy and we have simplified in a big way. Which you know I love. We have lots of wonderful neighbors and there are kids everywhere....whizzing down our dirt lane....happy shrieks bouncing off the cliff walls. 

We do not have internet. Thus the lag time in posting.

I also started work...teaching preschool. 

The same friend called and said she could see me teaching lots of wild young children eight hours a day.

Should I stop taking her calls?

 

mr. hansard

This guy is poetry. This is a clip from his movie, Once. It seems to me that he is formed inside out. His heart and soul are his eyes and smile and his music. He also bears an uncanny resemblance to my sweet brother. He quit school at thirteen to be a busker in the streets of Dublin and clearly it was the right decision. I like stories like that.

p.s. forgive the ad, didn't know it would pop up, but isn't Bono looking good. (and selling out?!)

why i had a della

This little bird is reason enough to have a daughter. It's not often that I see a dress or outfit that really floats my boat. I am not a girly girl. I am NOT a clothes horse. I wear the same get up for, literally, years at a time. Hello jeans and ratty mexican shirt and tiger danskos.

Doesn't sound pretty, does it?

And there is someone else to dress and she is much cuter than me.

Still, I am not drawn to the feminine frills. I am drawn to this little bird brooch. I will make one this afternoon and pin it to her jeans and put on her little mexican tunic.

uh oh.

I see a pattern here.

Max spent the last week at Camp Chief Ouray.

He did not want to go.

He said that I was 'not respecting his feelings'.

He cried.

I ignored him.

He went.

I cried.

(I'm not totally insensitive to his needs.)

Children can't see the big picture....that's why they have parents...to save them from themselves.
What do you know? He had a blast. He didn't want to leave. He made lots of cool new friends from all over the U.S. and from abroad. He said the girls were...'real cute, Mom!'
Mom thought his counselor was 'real cute'! (pictured below in zebra shirt)
He found his groove quickly, like 2 minutes after we left him, he said.

I like this picture because I don't know any of these darling children and Max knows them all. Camp is so all-American.
The scenery wasn't too shabby.
There were lots of cute teenagers with tons of wacky energy and enthusiasm. Max wants to be a counselor one day.
Good idea, Max.

faith.

What is faith? That's one of the BIG questions that gets answered in small ways at least a couple of times a day. Especially when there are kids around.

The other day I introduced my children to the wonderful world of rock climbing.

Not in the climbing gym. They mastered that long ago. It's a disparate analogy. They will scamper all over a climbing wall without a care in the world. There's nothing to worry about in that controlled and regulated environment and I suppose some people are all about that, but I'm not one of them.

It's like saying that a child can swim because he has swimmies on. You've gotta pull those suckers off and throw that kid in the deep end. That's swimming (or drowning!) and that's what has to happen, in the end, so why sugar coat it?

So, the other day, I showed them the real thing. We went out Junction Creek to the rocks near Turtle Lake. There were some cars already parked there and we passed some 'dudes' as we headed into the rocks.

Lewis froze in amazement to watch the 'dudes'.

What is he doing, Mom?

He's hanging by his fingernails, upside down, from a small cliff, Love. He's practicing so he can do it on a huge cliff.

Can I try?

That's why we're here, Baby.

And they're off!

Before I knew it, he had found the perfect wall to begin on. He wedged himself past an overhang with the help of a tree trunk and sunk his skinny little fingers into the chalky crags that could hardly be called holds and muscled his way straight up.

Use your legs, I said.

He did, and was quickly, out of MY comfort zone.

Remember the mention of faith above?

Let me tell you what faith REALLY is. Faith is finally getting Lewis back down and turning around to the fat boulder behind you and looking STRAIGHT UP and ALL YOU SEE is the little damn mermaid on your barely four year olds panties as she trucks straight up that face.

Be careful, Della.

I mam. (that's how she says it)

We, all three, stood under her, with our arms extended. She was nowhere within our reach.

She went up and down that rock and her brown and pink sun dress seemed to be the perfect climbing outfit.

When she got back down to terra firma she said....

"That's my new favewit fing."

You gotta have faith.

note: that weekend we were at my sister-in-laws house, and she was getting rid of a (not so clean) queen size mattress. Matt thought that I should use it as a pad for climbing. How cool would I look, hauling around a soiled mattress on the roof of my car and hiking it into the rocks? the latest mom accessory. maybe i'll start a trend.

ridiculous.

This is my sister in law, Stacy. And my sweet Tiggy. They are building a sand castle.

Stacy has a birthday this weekend.

In a million years you wouldn't guess her age.

25?
30?
40?
45?

Wrong, wrong and wrong.

Stacy will be 50 on Sunday.

She is beautiful inside and out. And smart as a whip, too. And a great mom. And sweet and charming and funny.

But OLD!

:)

Happy Birthday Stacy!

We love you!

lewis.

Something is missing.
It doesn't feel 'right' around here.
It's quite quiet.

Tiggy is away at camp for the week.
We will all feel SO MUCH BETTER when he gets home on Friday.

The other day he said that if he had one wish, he would wish that it would rain Mercer Mayer books. That's sweet, isn't it?

We'll have enchiladas to celebrate his return.
And read some critter stories that night.

Love my Lewis.

why not?

Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat....absolutely overwhelmed by the the wealth of knowledge that I must pass on to three eager and receptive little souls. If I stop and really think about it, it freaks me out.

There is always basic daily maintenance to attend to... the feeding, clothing, watering, and sheltering. Making sure they have all the proper gear is a full time job in and of itself. Then of course, there is their EDUCATION. That is a huge category and I'm always worrying that they aren't getting enough, except for the times when I have worried that maybe they are getting too much.

They need to know some language other than their own and whine-ese. Should it be french, spanish, german? What about latin? It forms the foundation of all the romance languages, they should probably know that, too.

They need to play an instrument. Which one? Or two? I want them to also know how to sing well, to harmonize, to know all the great broadway show tunes, to be able to dance to those show tunes. To know and appreciate classical music, opera, hymns and James Taylor.

And then there is literature and poetry and fine art. That's a lifetime of learning, alone!

Classic movies and plays.

What about sports? They need to know the basics of the biggies...soccer, basketball, football and baseball. Then there's lacrosse and tennis and golf and jai alai. Let's also throw in mountain biking, skiing...water and snow, track, skate boarding, ultimate frisbee, swimming, and juggling.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. And, of course, it comes together gradually over time with the help of many. But I still sometimes feel the responsibility of it all sitting on me like an elephant.

So right now, today, Max is working on a very important piece of his musical education and we are sharing it with you.

Because it's very important that we all know the classic hits of the eighties.

Rock On.

P.S. We are both having a hard time with Steve's pants? Were we all OK with that look, I can't remember?!

dream.

The fun thing about a blog is that YOU get to learn WHO I REALLY AM. Isn't that fun for you? It is all so personal. And as I write about things that are near and dear to me, I have come to find that, actually, there aren't that many people who know The True Inner Me. This is a little sad, but not really.

My husband knows every darn thing there is to know. My sister and I communicate on a deep level because of our mutual history, but we are very different people. My parents and I share DNA so they know where I'm coming from, but have probably always wondered where the hell I'm going. I have lovely friends whom I adore and we laugh and spend lots of time together, but we are so busy wrangling children and juggling life that a great deal goes unsaid.

What does all this have to do with all these photos of dinosaurs? You don't have a clue, do you?

These dinosaurs represent my greatest personal longing...kids aside.

If I could do and become anything in this world that I wanted to do or become (and I can), I would be a welder of magnificent yard art. I would be good. I would make enormous insects out of salvaged VW hoods, dinosaurs just like these, bigger than life flocks of emus.

All I need is a lofty workshop, a welder, someone to teach me how to use the thing, about 4 tons of funky scrap metal, an old pick-up truck with a trailer, some leisure time and a wealthy patron.

So now you know a little more about me.

How 'bout you?

Oh yes! I almost forgot! These fabulous fellows were created by a man named Bob Dorris, a retired Air Force engineer. You can find them deep in the countryside of Erie, Kansas.

double digits

This is my baby.
He will always be my baby.
In this picture he is just turning six.
Look at that face.

Today he turned 10.
He's a pleasure and a joy.
He has a beautiful heart.
He's still my baby.
Look at that face.

Who do I talk to around here about slowing down that damn clock?

at the farm

This photo is titled 'Daddy, Della, and the Tantrum'. I love this picture. It speaks to me on several levels.

It says, "Although I am only two and a half, I will race down this hill at top speed on a tricycle that I barely fit on, and I will aim for the lake, all while wearing a party dress!"

It says, "Mom and Dad will let me try that stunt, while lounging on the deck and having a beer."

It says, "Daddy is always there to rescue me when I crash and burn."

It says "Tantrums are not on our list of things to embrace and discuss'.

It says "Daddy will deal with this situation, no problem."

It says "Daddy has nice forearms."

It's true what they say about pictures and a thousand words.

drum roll please

(for this post to make sense please read previous post)



I did it. I baked a near perfect loaf of whole wheat spelt bread. When the timer went off signaling it done, I LEAPED from the sofa and nearly turned an ankle skidding into the kitchen. I pulled my grandmother's dutch oven out of the oven with my two favorite hot mats and set it on the counter. I lifted the lid and there it sat. Beautiful. Perfectly round with a golden brown crust. I had, as usual, modified the recipe to suit myself and my one concern was that it was going to stick to the pan because I had failed to line it with parchment paper. It popped right out. It tasted as good as it looked. Oh my goodness.

Things are a changin' at the Patton house.

We need the outfits. Size 4 and 7.

Thankfully, I've had the pottery for years. Get yours here.

And it DOES feel more wholesome and definately tastes better.

Why did it take me 20 something years to bake this loaf of bread?

Plain and Simple, because of that damn book. One hundred and fifty seven pages of detailed mumbo jumbo on baking a damn loaf of bread. It says things like this....

"Preheating the bowl allows the baby bread dough to feel at home and warmly held."

I have little tolerance for that type of language.

The book is up for grabs to the first person who says that they want it in the comment section. FREE. Please!

My bread was so simple. No flowery language, no ambient temperature taking, no 'warm holding'. My friend Tracy gave it to me and she got it from our friend Carla who used to own the Absolut Bakery. It takes about 1o minutes plus rising and is said to be 'no fail'.

In a bowl mix 2T yeast with 2T honey and 1t salt. Add 2 cups water, stir and let yeast activate...about 10 min. Add 5 cups flour of choice and mix together. Knead on floured surface then put back in bowl and let rise for several hours. punch down pretty good and let rise again for an hour or so and bake in a dutch oven that has been preheated. 450 for 30 minutes. And voila! That's it!

Thank you Carla! Thank you Tracy!