Today I had the rare and pleasurable experience of driving down the Seward highway for no other reason than to see the mountains and listen to music as loud as I desired. I usually travel with kids in the car, so it's a nice break when I can turn up the volume and don't have to have the same conversations over and over again:
"No, we are not going to Fred Meyers. We are going to Costco. Costco! yeah for Costco!"
"Stop kicking my seat. I've asked you three times already to stop kicking my seat. It's hard for me to drive when you kick my seat."
"It's OK Lucas, we are almost home. You're going to make it baby, just hold on a bit more."
I ended up at Beluga Point, one of my favorite writing destinations. I love to sit and watch the tourists face the wind and snap pictures and try to find sheep and whales. Kate Bush was my musical companion as I reviewed last years poems and journal entries. I ended up revising a few lines and working on a short story that I started almost two years ago. Just like me, it's all a work in progress it seems.
The biggest gift of the day was the drive home. Every mountain range in sight was out in full glory. The Talkeetna's could be seen, still snow covered, in the northeast, the Alaska Range held up the southwest skyline with their tall and impenetrable peaks forged up from the sea. Redoubt stood alone with his lopped off top, while Denali and Foraker rose above them all to the north. The Chugach, our local range, stood on my right, looking a little weather beaten, like a well worn shirt, and across Cook Inlet, Susitna, wearing her snow white death shroud, lay serenely against the blue, blue sky.
Just another blessed trip. Alaska is synonymous with home for me; even on the worst day, there is nowhere else I'd rather be.
***Thanks Honey for the time off!****
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Walk the Talk
Today I learned that you can buy a nine year old girl as a sex slave for $50 in Haiti. You could just use her as a housekeeper, or for both occupations if you wanted. All you have to do is feed, clothe and shelter her. You do not have to pay her. You do not have to care for her. She is your slave. You own her.
It appalled me to hear this on NPR this morning. According to Benjamin Skinner, slavery is more rampant and less expensive than during the big Euro-American slave trade 200 years ago. I listened to this story and yelled at the radio for a moment, then stormed off in a self-righteous huff down the hall. But what use is that? My anger wont stop slavery unless I take a stand, join some organization that is trying to stop the trading of human lives, and put my money and time where my mouth is. Hmmm. That seems like a lot of work.
Here's the thing: our indignation needs to extend beyond our apathy if we are really going effect a change in our world. We may not reach Haiti, but we might make a difference in our own locale. We have to do more than talk about it though. It was one of my resolutions this year to volunteer my time, not just my money. Today's news was a reminder that I haven't done that yet. I'll keep you posted.
Disclaimer: I have not read this book-but if you are interested here it is:
A Crime So Monstrous: Face-to-Face with Modern-Day Slavery
by Benjamin Skinner
A Google search will give lots of other info on this topic as well.
It appalled me to hear this on NPR this morning. According to Benjamin Skinner, slavery is more rampant and less expensive than during the big Euro-American slave trade 200 years ago. I listened to this story and yelled at the radio for a moment, then stormed off in a self-righteous huff down the hall. But what use is that? My anger wont stop slavery unless I take a stand, join some organization that is trying to stop the trading of human lives, and put my money and time where my mouth is. Hmmm. That seems like a lot of work.
Here's the thing: our indignation needs to extend beyond our apathy if we are really going effect a change in our world. We may not reach Haiti, but we might make a difference in our own locale. We have to do more than talk about it though. It was one of my resolutions this year to volunteer my time, not just my money. Today's news was a reminder that I haven't done that yet. I'll keep you posted.
Disclaimer: I have not read this book-but if you are interested here it is:
A Crime So Monstrous: Face-to-Face with Modern-Day Slavery
by Benjamin Skinner
A Google search will give lots of other info on this topic as well.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
P-I-C-T-U-R-E
P-I-C-T-U-R-E, p-i-c-t-u-r-e, picture....When I was six I loved to spell this word. I would spell it over and over; a feverishly whispered one word mantra for my first grade mind. Picture had flow. Picture had cadence. It also had seven letters, an odd letter combination, and was not readily rhymed. All of this allure in just one word.
I found picture one night while delivering croissants with my mom in downtown Anchorage. One of her clients was an old Frenchman and his wife who owned a now defunct liquor store. Driving in our bright yellow Colt, we would pass a back lit business sign that had the word picture on it in big block letters. Every week I would look forward to seeing that sign, and for several minutes afterwards I would mutter "p-i-c-t-u-r-e" under my breath, or in my head; a secret pleasure all my own.
Spelling picture boosted my confidence. If I could spell a word like that at six, I could protect my best friend from bullies, arm wrestle my way to the top of my first grade class (wearing a dress, no less), and do a cartwheel off the high beam in gymnastics. In short, I could own my small world. I did. It was cool.
In second grade I found Mississippi...a fantastic mouthful if there ever was one. The glory of Miss-iss-i-pp-i was short lived though; it was too slippery, and having only one vowel, rapidly lost it's appeal. P-i-c-t-u-r-e has stood the test of time and remained a favored friend. Even now, I murmur it sometimes when I need a lift, or when I need to walk tall and don't feel like it. P-i-c-t-u-r-e: it still delivers a smile.
I found picture one night while delivering croissants with my mom in downtown Anchorage. One of her clients was an old Frenchman and his wife who owned a now defunct liquor store. Driving in our bright yellow Colt, we would pass a back lit business sign that had the word picture on it in big block letters. Every week I would look forward to seeing that sign, and for several minutes afterwards I would mutter "p-i-c-t-u-r-e" under my breath, or in my head; a secret pleasure all my own.
Spelling picture boosted my confidence. If I could spell a word like that at six, I could protect my best friend from bullies, arm wrestle my way to the top of my first grade class (wearing a dress, no less), and do a cartwheel off the high beam in gymnastics. In short, I could own my small world. I did. It was cool.
In second grade I found Mississippi...a fantastic mouthful if there ever was one. The glory of Miss-iss-i-pp-i was short lived though; it was too slippery, and having only one vowel, rapidly lost it's appeal. P-i-c-t-u-r-e has stood the test of time and remained a favored friend. Even now, I murmur it sometimes when I need a lift, or when I need to walk tall and don't feel like it. P-i-c-t-u-r-e: it still delivers a smile.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Mamalicous
I am a goddess of all things domestic. (If you stay at home with kiddos, repeat that over and over until you can say it without laughing.)
Today I washed 5 loads of laundry, folded all of them, and got 2 put away. I did the dishes, swept the floor, found homes for everything under my bed and moved 8 boxes of laminate up the stairs and under the bed to "acclimate". I played 4 games of Chutes and Ladders with David, made three meals, changed four diapers, got two boys dressed, eventually got myself dressed and my teeth brushed, but alas, no shower today. I moved the large dresser and all it's contents into the boys room temporarily while we lay the new flooring in our room next week. I answered three personal emails, 5 work emails, made 2 work phone calls, and placed one order for medical supplies. I helped David pick up his train set and work on writing "1" correctly. I made several trips up and down the hall with Lucas as he practiced walking, tickled both boys on various occassions for 5-10 minutes, and spent time working on hand-eye coordination with Lucas. During lunch, I listened as David discussed how "Obama was going to beat Texas, but Clinton was going to beat Ohio." I gently reminded him that Texas and Ohio were not actually people-but he didn't seem to get it. I owe his dad for that bit of laughter today. Later, I found the receipt for our newly broken camera, taped it to the camera box, and then checked our bank statements and took out all the garbage in the house. After dinner, I backpacked Lucas for 30 minutes while David walked with me around the church and new condo's, then we checked the mail--returning 2 Netflix dvd's (which I had previously reported disc problems with). I then gave the boys their baths, brushed both sets of teeth-or supervised-read 3 stories, prayed and put them to bed.
Then I had my Skinny Cow fudgepop.
After my chocorama fix, I watched TV for 20 minutes before making a pass for more laundry. I flipped between The Royal Family and Girlicious for brain veg fair. Girlicious eventually won out as watching some of the girls dance badly was more entertaining than Prince Charles in military uniform. Now, to be fair, Tyra would not call me fierce when it comes to being a domestic goddess, as it would almost be impossible for me to work out, shower, and get hair and make-up on during this kind of day. That would be fierce. I can deal; it's only my pride and BO on the line. I am constantly humbled in this profession.
My real confession here is that my house is still not clean, I feel guilty for not reading to both boys more today, and though I did give/get a few real kisses in with Kiel, that will probably be all the action he sees tonight. Being a domestic goddess isn't all it's cracked up to be-don't let any stay at home mom fleece you on that one. Showering and real sleep are luxuries that are all too fleeting. Little things like yummy hand soap and good coffee make all the difference on any given day...but, hearing David wax poetic about the upcoming democratic primaries and making Lucas laugh as I kiss his belly do make it all worth it. I may never make fierce, but I'd settle for Mamalicious every once in awhile. Hmmmm, I guess that means I better get off this blog and do some sit-ups. Man, there's always something. Oh, I'll do them to TMZ: one, there's Brit, two, Brit again, three, Reese, four, Gyllenspoon, five, Tiger, six...
Today I washed 5 loads of laundry, folded all of them, and got 2 put away. I did the dishes, swept the floor, found homes for everything under my bed and moved 8 boxes of laminate up the stairs and under the bed to "acclimate". I played 4 games of Chutes and Ladders with David, made three meals, changed four diapers, got two boys dressed, eventually got myself dressed and my teeth brushed, but alas, no shower today. I moved the large dresser and all it's contents into the boys room temporarily while we lay the new flooring in our room next week. I answered three personal emails, 5 work emails, made 2 work phone calls, and placed one order for medical supplies. I helped David pick up his train set and work on writing "1" correctly. I made several trips up and down the hall with Lucas as he practiced walking, tickled both boys on various occassions for 5-10 minutes, and spent time working on hand-eye coordination with Lucas. During lunch, I listened as David discussed how "Obama was going to beat Texas, but Clinton was going to beat Ohio." I gently reminded him that Texas and Ohio were not actually people-but he didn't seem to get it. I owe his dad for that bit of laughter today. Later, I found the receipt for our newly broken camera, taped it to the camera box, and then checked our bank statements and took out all the garbage in the house. After dinner, I backpacked Lucas for 30 minutes while David walked with me around the church and new condo's, then we checked the mail--returning 2 Netflix dvd's (which I had previously reported disc problems with). I then gave the boys their baths, brushed both sets of teeth-or supervised-read 3 stories, prayed and put them to bed.
Then I had my Skinny Cow fudgepop.
After my chocorama fix, I watched TV for 20 minutes before making a pass for more laundry. I flipped between The Royal Family and Girlicious for brain veg fair. Girlicious eventually won out as watching some of the girls dance badly was more entertaining than Prince Charles in military uniform. Now, to be fair, Tyra would not call me fierce when it comes to being a domestic goddess, as it would almost be impossible for me to work out, shower, and get hair and make-up on during this kind of day. That would be fierce. I can deal; it's only my pride and BO on the line. I am constantly humbled in this profession.
My real confession here is that my house is still not clean, I feel guilty for not reading to both boys more today, and though I did give/get a few real kisses in with Kiel, that will probably be all the action he sees tonight. Being a domestic goddess isn't all it's cracked up to be-don't let any stay at home mom fleece you on that one. Showering and real sleep are luxuries that are all too fleeting. Little things like yummy hand soap and good coffee make all the difference on any given day...but, hearing David wax poetic about the upcoming democratic primaries and making Lucas laugh as I kiss his belly do make it all worth it. I may never make fierce, but I'd settle for Mamalicious every once in awhile. Hmmmm, I guess that means I better get off this blog and do some sit-ups. Man, there's always something. Oh, I'll do them to TMZ: one, there's Brit, two, Brit again, three, Reese, four, Gyllenspoon, five, Tiger, six...
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