It is Dr. Seuss day!

It is Dr. Seuss day and I am reminded of one of my favorite books from my childhood. I was 8 when I started filling out this book by ME, Myself.

I remember counting windows (51) in my house, the number of forks (32) we owned and that we had 52 pictures on the walls. And, since I now live in the same house that I did when I was 8 and filling out this book, I wonder what’s changed…. 

If you have kids in the house who love Dr. Seuss (and really, who doesn’t?!?) and might be a bit bored, or needing something to do, I highly recommend this book. It will keep them busy, allowing you some likely needed down time.

Be well my friends and maybe an upcoming meal should be Green Eggs and Ham! But, beware. My dad did this for me since it was my favorite book, and I vaguely remember crying and not wanting to eat them. Funny, now I’d be so excited for such a meal! Especially if there was any way in the world for him to make it.


It is National Crayon Day. What could be more fun than a day dedicated to crayons?!?

 It’s what’s on the inside that matters when it comes to this piece titled, “Grace”.  The real life Grace is one of my favorite humans in the world. She is bright, funny and much, much, MUCH taller than she is in this sculpture. Her personality shines and continues to bring me joy, just like crayons do.

I had a Dream.

I dreamed I was in my parents’ kitchen, with both of them.

I was hugging my mom. And gave her a kiss. She said, “Don’t forget about your dad. I then gave him a big hug and a kiss too. He didn’t say anything but just hugged me tightly, folding me into his long, loving arms, while I enjoyed the embrace as I had so often when they were alive.

 When I awoke, I had tears in my eyes. 

I laid there a bit longer, then got up and made a cup of coffee and sat in my moms’ chair, quietly watching the sun melt the frost outside and in. When Kirk got up, I told him of my dream and my now desire to scatter my moms’ ashes that day, instead of our plan of today, her birthday. A spring snowstorm was headed our way, and I didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else too. He was easily swayed from his plan to go fishing, and when I looked at my calendar to see what I might need to cancel that day; I was amazed to see it was St. Patrick’s Day. My mom was Irish. Wow. It felt even more right.

I found out on our way to the mountains, that one of my favorite dogs of all times died unexpectedly the afternoon before. I felt like I was going on a quest to say goodbye to Chili as well. I know if it’s possible, that my mom will welcome her with open arms if and when they cross paths.

On the drive, there was an amazing fog bank covering the horizon. The hoarfrost on the trees had turned the needled from green to white. And, on our hike, the sun came out, melting only half the tree. As it continued to melt, it sounded like rain. The smell of spring was surrounding us as we tromped through the snow to our favorite spot.

Laying on a rock in the sun… looking at a dead tree covered in lichen… There is life in death. And, when I pulled out my phone to take these pictures, the time was 11:11. My dads’ favorite time.


My mom’s birthday

I shed tears this morning.


And night.

It’s my moms birthday today. She would have been 77, and just over 6 months since she died unexpectedly.

The first day of spring. Today. Or, at least it used to be..the earth shifted? Something to that effect….The equinox. The egg balancing. A new birth for me. A new season. Onward I trudge at times. Onward I go. Just like the sun. I arise. “Way to lean into that shit.”  The most honest words from a friend.

Plowing through I go. On so many levels. Snow. Earth. Grief. Sorrow. Quilts. Paperwork. Emails. For my moms taxes.

The snow melts and freezes around the car tires. Frozen in place.


Hello Moon.

Goodnight Moon.

Hello Sun.

A Vote for WY

Listening to the wind…

The fire rages again.
The earth isn’t happy, she’s on fire after all.

I see the fires burning in my friends.
Wanting to help blow the prevailing winds another way.
” How can we help?”
The masses cry:
“What can we do?”
“Stop,” I say. “Be still. Listen.”


Listen to the wind.
Stay strong, upright.

I am stronger because of you.
Wind clears my head and spirit. A big, dust out of the closets sorta thing.

Finding my path clear.
My journey.

Feel the fire.
Embrace the wind.
Be the light at the end of the tunnel. The god damn tunnel.

Breathe deeply.
Hold your head high.
Fly in the wind.
Enjoy the dance, like a kite in an ocean breeze.

In Stereo

I never took chemistry.

My locker during a of year of high school was right across from Rogers room.

We became hallway friends, and later, bonded over chocolate and The Grateful Dead.

As it turns out, he was also friends with my husband, through different means.

For our wedding, he gifted us a 3-D view of life and living.

I like to think he and my dad are enjoying great conversations together, wherever they are…

Environmental Art


Sculpture by Aurora Robson

2011, 24″  24″ x 24″, plastic debris (PET), aluminum rivets, tinted polycrylic + mica powder

When I first ran across this sculpture, I immediately tracked down her website to see more of her artwork. I love that she too uses recycled materials in her work. This series reminds me of the water, waves, rivers, and oceans of my dreams. Thank you for that Aurora, I hope our paths cross in person someday.