3rd Place

Justus had a tough year at gymnastics.  He was unsure of his routine at the beginning of the season.  He was so unsure of himself, that he didn't do well.  In all honesty, the coaches changed around a lot, and when he finally got a steady coach, he took off.
Last weekend at his home meet, Justus came in 3rd.  For a kid who was coming in LAST just a few weeks ago, this is pretty amazing.  He was quitting after this meet, but who could quit when they are on top?

Look at his face!  He was so excited you can't see his face.  He is saluting with his whole self!

Real Estate vs. Real Life

What does Tyson know about real-estate?  Basically just what she has learned by informing herself while buying a house.  Why is Tyson blogging in third person?  Who knows, so she'll cut it out.

I'm un-officially documenting the sale/loss of our house on another blog.  Here is the link:

http://realestatevsreallife.blogspot.com

Knock yourself out....

The Girl Who Lived!!

Justus has a sweet-spot in his heart for a girl in his class. She is pretty, sweet, blonde, energetic, imaginative, and SMART. She stands out, a perfect girl for Justus to have as a friend.

Camryn was in a terrible car crash on the icy road after Christmas. She was in a coma for 4 weeks, and had a broken femur and traumatic brain injury. Justus was devastated. He was aware enough to know the gravity of the situation. After winter break he returned to school, and to the playground, without his friend. He felt her absence.

In what is nothing short of miraculous, Camryn is now home, attending school, therapy, and surviving her accident. Not only is she surviving, she is thriving, and moving ahead with gusto. She is going to be okay!

After her accident, her head of beautiful hair was shaved mostly off. She is sporting cute caps, and pulling it off with style. In a display of solidarity, Justus shaved his head yesterday. Though it is in no way as hard for him, as it is for Camryn, he is very particular about his hair. Obsesive Compulsive is a good way to describe it. He was super excited to do it, until it was over and 5" of hair was gone. Now he is a bit bashful, and having to get used to a lighter head!

I am so in love with my boy. I can only imagine nearly loosing a child, and thinking of it I feel a bit ill. I am in love with the person my boy is becoming and how attune to his surroundings right now. I am glad to get to spend time with him and look forward to the decades of time we have together!

He was so bashful about the haircut, he didn't want me to post a photo of it, even though it is fabulous!

I'm so happy Camryn made it through alive and well. I'm happy for her mom and dad, her family, her classmates, her husband, her children, her grandchildren, and for Camryn!! Keep up the good and hard work!

Sunny Legs Revealed

I know everyone is clamoring for the missing photo from my last post. After weeks of waiting, here it the photo in question!

Notice the dent in my shin where a log from the woodshed pegged me! Ouch!! It doesn't look bad, but geez, it hurt!!

Depression vs. Skin Cancer

I left my camera at my sister's house. On the camera is the perfect photo for this blog. It is a sunny photo of my white legs, pulled up pants, pushed-down striped socks, and heavy winter shoes. I was sitting outside of a gymnastics meet for my kid at Stanford. It was sunny and 'warm'. I would wait to get the photo off of my camera so I could use it for my blog, but by that time, this post will seem irrelevant. It may be June before I see that camera again, so I'll get it off my chest now.

I have been thinking about the fine line that I walk in the winter between Vitamin D and Prozac. I know the sun is low on the horizon, and that I get less UV during the winter. I also get that I get less "D" over all during this long season. Only to make things more complicated, I am a sunscreen-aholic. I have to be a devout sunscreen-etarian so that I don't get overwhelmed by the sun during sunny months. Even though it is February (no sun, not for days, weeks, and months), I feel a pang of guilt when I don't put on my SPF 15 every morning. I wonder if I feel disproportionate guilt due to the fact that I may now have seasonal depression.

Am I overreacting due to my dislike of dairy products and that glowing orb in the sky? Have I been out of the sun so long that I can't get control of myself in the longest months of the year? Do I like getting carded for buying alcohol so much that I would have to check myself into a sanatorium? Maybe a few more wrinkles on my face would be worth it through the winter.

In a valiant compromise, I decided to pull up my pant legs and let my shins see the sunshine. I ate a hot dog (summer food) and let folks laugh on the inside as they passed the goofy red-head in the sun, outside the Gymnastics Center at the prestigious institution that is Stanford University.

Wrestling the Angels

After last week's Wednesday, I woke up ready to greet this one with a smile and routine.

Last week, a coyote scared my kids into hiding in the car, and our dog scared it off of the deck. I was right behind the dog chasing the coyote away with shouts. Running in the morning ice, I fell hip-first onto a deck chair. This is the hip that has clumsily hit the ground hard, more times that I would like to admit (see previous posts).

Later that day, I found the body our our cat outside in the grass. The reason the coyote was on the deck in the first place? He was there to eat our cat, and we scared him away before he carried her into the woods, though not before he loudly killed the cat and scared the kids. I had to bury the cat in the yard with two crying kids.

After a week of ice packs and sleeping on my right side (which is the wrong side) I decided to take an easy walk up the hill. This was after a perfect morning of stay-at-home-mom-ness. I even thought to myself as I walked up the driveway, "what a perfect way to redeem last Wednesday" beyond my folded laundry, clean house, full fridge, and clean floor.

Walking up my little road to nowhere, I saw cars parked to the side, and a woman crying. I got closer and saw a man stroking the head of a half-dead baby dear. The failed christian in me turned to walk home, but the tears of the woman and the kindness of the man moved me forward. The woman grabbed me and hugged me. I told her I was so sorry. She cried more. If the man moved away from the deer, it would struggle to run. It was a gruesome sight. The woman cried more, I stepped closer to her side. We waited for the sheriff to come to get the deer, and it seemed like ages, though at most, ten minutes.

No sheriff arrived, but a Grass Valley policeman. He was very neat and trim and young. Summing him up, I didn't really think he had much to offer the scenario until he put his hand to his side to unlock a gun from his holster. The woman cried and ran to her car not wanting to watch, just as two more cars came to the scene just trying to head up the road and stopped.

I turned to look away, but not in time. I saw the officer take out his gun and shoot the baby in the head. There was blood. A terrible thing to watch for us all, but not as bad as watching it struggle. A terrible thing for a passerby to drive up to during lunch time. The officer put on some gloves and pulled the body off the street. Everyone turned and left slumping a bit.

I had some time to think about what had happened as I walked back to my house. Last week's trauma was about how things we work hard for can easily be lost. I am still recovering from falling in the ice, I am still sad to see the bag of kitty food in the laundry room. This week's trauma was about what I do have.

I came upon that scene, not by accident. The reason is who I am. I can comfort in the midst of suffering. I didn't turn and leave, telling myself that I would only be in the way. What I brought to the woman, was who I am. Who I am is all I have. I didn't add to the gruesomeness of the moment by walking away. In this way, last week's trauma was redeemed with this week's trauma.

My hip still aches terribly. It looks terrible. Today I'm going to use it to remember.

Camera Curve

Our little Kodak point and shoot camera broke/died in October. I have been taking photos by hauling my laptop around, and relying on others to document Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, a trip to the ocean, a family wedding, 2 giant snow storms, my sister's 30th birthday, and Justus' gym meets.

Yesterday our new camera arrived in the mail. I was as excited as if I were 6 years old getting my first Cabbage Patch doll, or my green banana seat bike. I was excited because the photos I have been able to take in the last several months are really poor quality. I was also excited to get a really nice camera and take some good snaps, until I opened the box last night.

The line between excitement and anxiety is quite slim. There are 5 manuals in as many languages, not to mention photography jargon, a dozen buttons, and hundreds of settings. I'm overwhelmed with where to start. Do I start at YouTube or the jr. college? I think I start by taking photos. I almost forgot that I could start learning by taking photos, which is where the word 'overwhelmed' really suites the situation. I'm going to give myself more than 12 hours to get the hang of it. I am also going to post one of the photos I took last night, just cause I can (as opposed to yesterday at this same time).

Appropriate Idiom

I can't think of the best title. There are too many hokey puns and applicable idioms, that there isn't a 'best'. My favorite ones are 'a head above' or ' hard headed husband' (just for the alliteration, not because he is). As you can see, this is about my husband, and I don't want to make fun of him with a pun or saying, so I'll just leave the title alone.

In a dramatic turn of events, Silas forgot to put the guard onto the hair clippers, during what was clearly a bleary-eyed, early morning, repair job. He took the blade to his head, leaving a 2 inch strip of pure Silas head. We all came running to the bathroom to the sound of laughter, and then we joined in! There was no working around it, and Silas had to shave his already balding head entirely.

This style seems to be quite popular for men our age. I have yet to decide what I think of it, even as some of you reading this have this exact same 'haircut'. On one hand, it is handy. An easy way to ease one's way through rough patches of balding. It is an immeasurable step up from the comb-over. It isn't denying the change, and yet steering one clear of the Bozo the Clown look. In this same category I am lumping those men who for simplicity sake, just shave their noggins.

Then, there are the other guys: The kinda tough jerks who shave their head so that people will do what they say! I would lump them into an insecure military/police/skinhead crew. The kinda folks who are just not happy with themselves, and the rest of us have to suffer. The problem for me is that sometimes one guy can be in both groups. Or, I might assume the latter when it really is the former or vice-a-versa. I guess the point here, as in my previous blog, is you really can't judge. I sit around and think about this kinda stuff anyways, so then I do judge now that my very own husband is in the 'bic-club'.

Since this is a new idea for me, and I spend a lot of time looking at and thinking about my husband, I'm going to have to get used to it. 15 years ago we cut his long fluffy hair on the back porch of his parent's house, so he could join the Air Force. Every 2 weeks or so, since then, Silas or I have cut his hair, to regulations, whether he needed it or not. Now we can wait a few extra weeks, and it will be back to how it was before, balding on top (and on the back) and thick and dark on the sides. Then I won't have to think about it...

Chicken Tacos

We were starving and a bit sick after a very curvy car ride from the coast. It was that kinda starving that makes you irritable, as if you could cry, in fact, my son was crying at the very thought that he might not get a bowl of Mexican food. The line was LONG and SLOW, and I was taking deep breathes, and thinking, "chicken tacos". Things were not going my way.

So none of that really has to do with this next bit, but it was in that long and slow line, as I was searching for my happy place, that the young lady behind me made a phone call. Yes, I absolutely hung back to listen to every word, once I heard what she was talking about, this is how it went:

Hey, guess what? Yeah, I finally told my parents about my boyfriend.
No, they were fine with it. They just asked what he was in for.
As long as he didn't hurt anyone, or steal anything, they didn't care.
Yeah, they were fine with it.
Now I can stop waiting for his letters and rushing to get them before my parents.
I'm writing him a letter everyday. Yeah I'm so glad....
Huh? No way am I missing my 21st birthday, no way...

They just asked what he was in for? Huh? Really? In so many ways, that is so messed up. I thought the very reason one spends time behind bars was mostly because he has hurt someone, or he has stolen something. Everything else that I can think of to put one behind bars, besides these two criteria, area also terrible. This is attractive to someone? Clearly, yes.

I really am trying to give folks the benefit of not judging them, especially perfect strangers in line at a taco stand. So in this case, I was judging the stupid girl, her stupid parents, her criminal boyfriend, and the extremely impacted taco-makers. This really isn't what I was wanting to do, but I was starving. I get that everyone deserves to be loved, and was glad that these folks were not my responsibility.

I'm my responsibility. Now that my belly is full, and my blood sugar is back into a reasonable range, I am still judging. I am judging my my stay-at-home, mountain town, organic garden, 30-something lovable husband, energetic happy children, caring friends, healthy family, and very centered life. I like it!!

Atrium Construction

Got the place finaled, and now we are putting in a floor!! By 'we' I mean Tana and Silas.
Looking Good!!

Emma the Pug

After 5 years of yearning, Justus got a pug. Her name is Emma, and she is 4. She came to live here from my friend, who was overwhelmed with child rearing and doggie-rearing. She is a good girl, and so tiny compared to our other dogs.

Sail Away With Me.

Just a few of my favorite folks sailing, on what was nearly a perfect day. Okay, as perfect as humanly possible. What a joyful day. Just after this, we caught up for a moment with a pod of dolphins. I am guessing there were 100. We were calling them like Burt calls fishies on Sesame Street onto his fishing boat. Fortunately they did not fly into our boat.

Dressed to the Nines

Here we are dressed up for Halloween last week.

We are dressed to the nines, in that we have 9+ yards of fabric on each!! Well except for Justus, who is wearing just 2 yards.
We went the whole nine yards on cloud nine that evening!!

Searching for a Heart of Gold

Nevada County is my hometown. I know that there have been 33 years of change, since I got here, but what is good, is that it is slow. Slow changes, as opposed to the changes I see as I drive into Sacramento, or out of Reno. The pace there is faster, there are more cheaply made homes, tilt-up commercial buildings, wide roads and jammed cars. The pace in other places is too fast for its own good, but that is not what this is about. Here, certainly is not there, and yet things do change.

Take for instance the "Heart of the Gold Industry" mural on the Del Oro theater. Some time ago, the owner painted the building (which was in disrepair) covering up the mural that has been there for my lifetime, and then some. Now, after great deliberation, expense, and time, a new fancy mural is going onto the wall.

It is just the thing for angry, sentimental bloggers and snarky letters to the Union editor. There are many reasons folks dislike the newness.

I found myself out late, and alone last week. It was still and cold. On the scaffolding for the new mural, were flood lights and workers (artists?) putting up the mural in the dark cold.

I also found myself feeling sentimental and sad as the men worked. I'm glad I'm not writing angry, foul words in local paper about how I HATE it, because I don't. I simply felt sad that they would be working in the dark. It was like watching a theater production that no one was supposed to see, knowing how terribly angry this new art is making some folks.

I think my sentiment points out something bigger inside me. I'm having trouble changing. I also feel as if I had to paint over some old murals that were a sign of who I am. It is an expensive, deliberate and time consuming process. I feel sad to see the old parts of me needing to be repaired, but glad there is a light shining in me while construction continues at night.

Super-Busy

We got our room finally finalled. This means it is no longer the building dept. problem, and all the finish work left is ours.
The kids made it on a pretty long up-hill hike to Loch Leven Lakes.

A tiny kitten was in our gutter, all flea ridden, covered in burrs, and starving. It survived a week, and now is 2x as big. Should we name it? It maybe too late, we already love it!

In other news, there is no news. Nothing ironical, nothing unusual. Just routine! Life is full and wonderful!

We Will Not Comply

This is "old" now, but still relevant for me.
I hesitate to post it only 'cause it might not be as meaningful and powerful to you. It is mainly too personal for this introvert, on the public internet.
I guess I am feeling radical tonight, and don't care to hide.
It broke a beam of light into a dark bit of my heart.
It is radical! Maybe it will be for you as well.

School Kids

A theme in parenting for me has been an understanding of how little control people actually have over the universe. In 1999, as little control over the situation as I could have, I did. After that, it was a slippery-slope of learning my life isn't really about me. Since then I have had to surrender two times to fortune, messy bedrooms, and mostly unselfish love!
All of that to say, my kids are out-of-control CUTE!

Justus, age 9, grade 4
Scout, age 6, grade 1
First day of school 2009

August Garden

No real change in how the garden looks, but the big change is the food! I guess I should post photos of that. Really what is the point of a garden?

Scarry Tree

This tree used to look like a Christmas tree. I would post a photo of what it used to look like, but you know what a Christmas tree looks like already, so I'll post a photo of my dead Christmas tree.

Last summer, this tree died.
Then it's needles fell off in the winter.
Then it sat there looking very grim, and quiet.
Then, about 3 months ago it started making noise.

I pass this tree every time I go into my garden, which is quite often. At the beginning of the summer I started pushing the thought aside that this tree actually was making a very loud noise. I assumed that I actually was loosing my mind. Trees, for the most part, are a quiet species. Maybe they are quite loud in a wind storm. Maybe they are loud when children are in them. Maybe they are loud in their last days. I believe that is why this tree is so loud. It is beyond it's last days, even.

My assumption is that it died because of whatever is making noise inside of the tree, and making sawdust. Whatever it is in there, is very very loud for a quiet tree. I can only describe it as clicking/chomping/sawing noise. Passing by you can hear it. If I hit the tree, it stops, but as I walk away, it starts up again.

This to me is a bit frightening. I think everyone hates hearing something destructive, but not being able to see it. And the tree looks so, well, dead. dead things usually aren't loud.

Termites!!

CZR

Here are some photos of my time in Czech Republic.

My students were so fun, I could not have asked for better kids.

My fellow Americans were so fun, inspiring, smart, and enjoyable. I could not have asked for a better set of people to get to know.

The Czech team was like coming home: my sisters and brothers. I could not have asked for better friends in Eastern Europe.


God actually is good.

Apprixomate Math for the Overwhelmed Overachiever

On arrival home from my time teaching English in Czech republic, I've been behind. Here is a post to catch up, cause stuff needs to get done. Here is my list of what I need to keep up on, for the most part. I'm sure I'm missing nearly 1000 things:

• School supplies
• Clean, well-fitting clothes for school
• Dog to vet
• Buy new car
• Back to school haircuts
• Catch up on the laundry
• Justus to gymnastics
• Scout to soccer
• Exercise
• Restful sleep
  
• Tend the garden
• Keep dishes out of the sink
• Hang with high school and jr. high students from SPC
• Keep healthy food in the kitchen
• Manage my children's bickering
• Tend my aching back (aka chiropractor)
• Hospital chaplain
• Quality time with family and friends
• Reading a good book/making music to keep my sanity

Of this list, I have accomplished (if I round up) 2-ish. That is about 15%.

15% of my dishes, laundry, garden, exercise, pet care, child rearing, etc. is not super. It is an "F" in school. Though I am aspiring to cast off my over-achiever-ness, 15% is clearly less than what I was aiming for, by not pressuring myself to do all, and be all.

So my plan is to just let it go, by sitting her at the messy kitchen table, and blog. Then I'll hit the dishes and the counter-tops, then the laundry. Then I'll take my kids to the pool next door, and they'll be happy, and I'll be rested. I'll remind myself that life is good. Then I'll drive and pick Silas up from work in our new car.

Enjoying CZR heading to bed after a long 2 days

July Garden

My garden is making food.
Here is the 3rd set of photos I took of it on July 1oth.

Small Town, Big Fun

Lance Armstrong participated, and won the Nevada City Bike Classic on Father's Day this year. It was a huge deal for him to come to our little place. The only way to describe the mood was 'electric'. Everyone was talking about it, and looking forward to it, like Christmas.

The actual event was super! Everyone was there, and we met up with friends and family just because we live here, together. And that seems to be what was so special about it, not so much Lance, but our togetherness, our community. You could feel the spirit of togetherness, and everyone was relaxed, and having fun. Everyone was cheering, and waving. I know it seems so simple-minded, but it was a truly special day. I felt so glad about my life here in Nevada County, and settled and alive.

Everything was as it should be, except that my camera puttered out, and I only took this one, very bad photo of the world premier cyclist, Lance Armstrong.
Like I said, the photo is terrible, mostly because if you are a person wearing a yellow jersey, then you blend into straw bales in the background, and are overshadowed by a big shadow, cast from the Crazy Horse side of Commercial St. Also a factor is operator error, or lack of superior technology. My camera just couldn't take a photo fast enough for Lance.

Garden #2

Here are more snaps of my garden, from mid June 09. I think we are doing well. I got a drip going on a timer, and feel quite accomplished! We are eating chard, lettuce, strawberries, peas, and cilantro.

Over-sharing

It is my opinion that 90% of the stuff on the world wide web is over-sharing. Mail-order brides, photos of road kill, and children's bathroom habits, are just a few random things I am sure you can find, and I haven't even Googled them (nor do I want to). So, this qualifies as 'over-sharing' in my opinion, but here goes anyway.

I'm not athletic. I have been stretching myself over the past 5-6 years to try new sports: triathlons, an endurance bike ride, skiing, running, slack-lining. My mind tells my body to go/do/be, and it does not comply. This is what happened to my hip because of a dim body-mind connection.

I attempted to ride a mnt. bike, clipped in, on a mountain trail. This clearly was too difficult for me, but I was willing to try, before I figured that out.Now, I have this ugly bruise, but what is more, is the knot under that purple mess. Seriously OUCH!!

Not Technically Time-Lapse

I intended to call this post, "Veggie Garden Time-Lapse", but found on further investigation, that just showing you my first photo, with the intention of more later, in a series of photos isn't technically "time-lapse". Time-lapse (the more I type that word, the more it sounds funny, try saying several times- weird word) would require patience with with my garden and in the fall, I could show you the entire season of growth. I can still do that in October, but for now, I can show you my veggies, as tiny babies. I love these babies, so rollie-pollies and earwigs, stay away!! I have yet to master the gardener's/farmer's endurance and patience. Each year I try to work on something new on my garden, and maybe I'll work on that next year?

Cut Flowers

I love my flowering yard!!! It isn't just how I want it yet, but I have a lot of flowers!!

Silas Visits the UK

Silas went to London on business, and then to Glasgow to visit friends. He only took 6 photos, and 3 were of a lake, which doesn't seem so unique or cultural, since we have similar lakes here in California.
He did get to visit our dear friends Nick, Sophie and overdue baby Pragnell-Bell, in their own element. What fun he had!!

Careful what you ask for...

While our VW Beetle is in the shop for repairs (which is a story all it's own), we asked for a rental car. This was the only rental available:
I could have 4 more children now, and we could all fit. Or, I could fit 6 bails of straw back there. This car is thick, tall, wide and cavernous. I guess I just want my car back....

Six Sets of Lungs

I was positive that I had nearly lost my mind when I volunteered to make 6 sets of lungs for my daughter's school play, featuring the human body.

The play is sure to be cute, with a gaggle of 5 year-olds parading around as singing skeletons, lungs, muscles, and craniums. I felt a bit guilty from last years play as an adult participant, having helped out a big ZERO. So this year, I jumped on the responsibility as a, slightly sewing machine savvy, kindergarten loving, adult.

After hours of work, tracing, cutting, sewing, drawing, filling, fastening, buying, and planning, I finished the dang lungs.

Then, last night we watched 30 Rock, a TV show (though we watched it on the computer) and what do you know, the opening gag was about the goofy main character acting like a kidney in an elementary school play. Though it must be a more common experience than I had imagined, the sketch did reinforce that I have indeed lost my mind. I really would do ANYTHING, no matter how goofy, for my kids. Making lungs out of felt, beans, elastic and a sharpie counts.

My fingers are still blue from the sharpie!

Baby Bag

A bag I made of oil cloth for my friend's new baby!!

Pets on Furniture

Dillweed the dog really is the dullest light bulb on the shelf, which is why he is such a good dog. It is my belief that pets do not belong on furniture (let your pets on your stuff, I'm fine with that). So that is why Dillweed looks so guilty on the table in our atrium.

Small Distractions

What happens when someone's husband drives his car/VW campmobile to the airport, and parks it in long term parking for 4 days, and leaves the lights on? How long did the lights last in the long term parking at Sacramento Metro Field? I can tell you for sure they did not last 4 days, and now I will tell you what happens to someone who has left the lights on in his car for 4 days with his flight returning at 10pm.

He has to get towed to the Wal-mart in West Sac, and buy a NEW battery, and if that doesn't work, he can just pull out a sleeping bag at 1am, lie the seat into a bed, draw the curtains, and sleep the night away in relative safety courtesy of Wal-mart. Tomorrow he can just get up, fix the van, and walk to IKEA for a cup of coffee and some Sweedish Meatballs for breakfast.

What does a person's wife do in this situation. She stays up late, stitching, reading about lacto-fermentation on the world wide web, and blogging at 12:45am about small distractions. I was thinking of blogging about the difference between anger and lamentation, but that has lost its luster tonight. I'm still thinking about it though. I'll let you know how it turns out, about the stranded husband and about the lament.

Seriously Joyful

Today is Palm Sunday.
As I was passing by, a man said, "You look so serious!". I wasn't feeling anymore serious than usual, but it pushed me to quick self-reflection. I responded,
"seriously joyful!". I know that I am very serious, and I take joy very seriously.

Here are somethings I am feeling particularly, seriously, joyful about today:
Worshiping in the morning in a place that felt like home.
Visiting with old friends with the sun warming my back.
Knowing Silas was enjoying the sun and snow, skiing with his uncle.
A brown bag of licorice Silas brought me.
Photos of my friend's new smiling baby in my in-box.
Spring in my yard.
A pint of strawberries in the kitchen.
Kid playing noises.
Friendly neighbors passing.
Gobbling turkeys in the woods outside.

All of that in just one day!!

15 Years!!

Could it really be that Silas and I have been together 15 years? The days are long, but the years are short. We were reminded of the time passing as we climbed what is now the Tarzan Tree House at Disneyland. The first time Silas and I climbed it (and it was the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House), Silas kissed me for the first time! This time, we climbed it with our two very large children, and told them the story of how much we love each other, and how we started in love. Scout was excited, and Justus was embarrassed.

Scout-isms

At breakfast, I asked Scout what she wanted to be when she grew up. She had mentioned that she was going to let her children wear her belt with the rhinestones. I told her she would have to save the belt for 30 years if she was up for it. That got us on the topic of the future. She said she wanted to be a "driving-pick-up-mom". This seems to be the exact thing that I do, or how she perceives me (I do other things as well if you can believe it)!! She then told me she was going to live in the city and pointed in the direct direction of Grass Valley (she is my girl, with a keen sense of direction). I asked her if she meant Grass Valley, and she said yes, the city, cause she hates the woods. Grass Valley has 12,300 human occupants!! Scout said she hates the woods, because of the bears, which seems like a good point. I wonder if a raccoon can scare away a bear?