EXACTLY.

Me: What do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?

Betty: A fireplace in my bedroom, a kitchen and a diamond ring.

Me: Well, he's sitting right there. Go tell him what you want.

Betty: Will you go tell him for me?

Me: Sure.

(later at home)

Betty: Was that really Santa?

Me (hesitation): Yes.

Betty: No it wasn't. He had on short sleeves under his suit.

Me: Why does that mean he's not Santa?

Betty: People who live in the North Pole DO NOT need short sleeves.

CHRISTMAS IN THE 79081

DEAR WILL, NICE BEARD.

2 Days of Dickens in Galveston: MyFoxHOUSTON.com

LIGHT A FIRE

CARRY A TORCH

I spent the holiday with all of my lovely blended family. Betty, parents, grandparents, siblings, siblings' loves, cousins, aunts, uncles and the list goes on. Enough food to feed a small army, warmth, cooking, laughter, great wine, games, superb conversation, pumpkin cheesecake, decorating, coffee, soft beds, blazing fires and the list goes on. After everyone left on Sunday, Betty and I decorated yet another tree. I sat down for a few moments because I wanted to catch the Angelina Jolie interview on 60 minutes but instead I was fortunate enough to see the above clip. Shock and awe. Not because of the circumstances these children are enduring (it's shocking in itself but I was aware of the state of homelessness in Florida) but because of these children's attitudes. Living in the back of a truck, eating canned food, getting ready for school at a gas station. YET. Yet thankful, spirited and happy. STILL SOMEHOW THINKING OF OTHERS. My God, how blessed I am. I live such an abundant life. I was reminded of a blog I posted last year, or maybe the year before, about keeping Christmas simple, about Christmas being a spirit inside of you. And although, I am going all out this year, I feel that Christmas light shining all around me. I will remember these children who live in the most dire situations and still find a way to carry their light. Their smiles were infectious and stirred something in my heart. I am eternally thankful for all that Betty and I have and challenge myself to truly make a difference this holiday season.

MORE THAN WORDS

I don't know how many times I've heard, "She is such an old soul." or "There's just something about her." And if any picture has ever captured those words, it would be this one. There is just something about the subtle hint of strawberry in her tussled hair and the striking blue in her eyes. I have looked at it over and over, cocking my head a bit to try and soak it all in. I see such a spirit in this picture. I see her Choctaw/Black Irish roots shining through. And as strange as it sounds, the moment I saw this picture I knew this little soul has been around much longer than 4 years, much longer than 31 years and much longer than a lifetime.

God sends us the most precious gifts.

CLAM IT UP

One of my favorite stolen recipes is clam bake stew. It's super easy, delicious and healthy. I also like to think about Betty eating things that are different from the normal mac and cheese or green chile mac and cheese at our house. So I bought some clams and shrimp while I was in Amarillo yesterday (Dear Market Street, I missssssssssss you). We fired up the pot and worked together to make one of my favorite soups. I immediately dug into the clams as Betty removed hers from her soup bowl. I thought, perhaps, she was setting it out to cool off (although I know better).

"I'm not eating that clam. Those clams miss their mamas and we are going to the beach to set those clams free. (to the clam) Don't worry little clam. I'll protect you." Dinner proceeded and she ate the tomatoes and corn out of her soup. Fine. Whatever. She's four. I can't expect her to eat clams, right? Until she started carrying the clam around with her.

Reminds me of a certain youngster circa 1987 who put 'Only elephants should wear ivory' bumper stickers all over her dad's Ford. And it begins.

COVER YOUR EARS

Many months ago, a vegetarian friend of mine introduced me to an author by the name of Johnathan Safran Foer. After all the Super Size Mes and other crazy food documentaries, his non-fiction book, Eating Animals, actually made me stop eating meat....for about a month. I remember reading the book and feeling differently about myself...something had stirred in me. I felt a bit smarter, a bit more open minded and a bit changed. Me, little ole me, started thinking bigger thoughts.

Amarillo College sponsors a Commonreader program every year. They select an author/book and host all sorts of activities around it ie visual arts contest, art exhibit, etc. This year's author was none other than JSF and my English prof suggested we enter the writing contest for extra credit. The prompt was to write a poem or personal about JSF's latest book Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close or something related to 9-11.

I completely forgot about the competition until the day before and threw something together so I could get the extra points for entering. A few days later Mr. S notified me I had placed third out of over 50 entries. I was, I'll say it, ECFRIGGINSTATIC. Yesterday the Amarillo Museum of Art had a reception for Joel Meyerowitz photography display followed by a lecture at Amarillo Globe News Center.

I almost did not go. I felt silly about being proud amongst the two other 18 year old winners. I felt silly about being 31 and attending a junior college. But I went, and Dr. Matney recognized me and my work was displayed all over the place and something hit me. BE PROUD. Look how far you have come in the last year. You write well. It's not the best ever but at least you dang tried and you just shook JSF's tiny hand, cool no?. You are bettering yourself to better your daughter's life. And when I called home to check on my greatest accomplishment, she said in her tiny little voice Mama, I am so proud of you!

STAY CALM by Grace Calvert

The Captain’s voice, a silencing boom, resonated through the plane, “Flight attendants please secure the cabin for landing.” Immediate panic as each of us realized we were 37,000 feet in the air, followed by curious passengers who would only be answered with darting glances from their youthful crew. Pounding hearts, racing minds, and a noticeable buzz zinging off the walls of the cabin. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. STAY CALM.

Southwest Airlines Flight #2367 was not scheduled to land in Chicago-Midway for at least another hour. Why, then, were we being asked to secure the cabin for landing? Was our bird out of fuel? Was there an equipment malfunction? And most importantly, why had we not been informed of our situation by our pilots? My 20 year old heart took a nose dive deep into the queasy pit of my stomach as I realized something was wrong. Something was very wrong. We were about to go down. STAY CALM. I was the Lead on this flight and, by God I was going to pull it together. Hands were raising, bells were ringing and a sound slowly crept into my ears, not a sound close to me. It was coming from the aft of the plane, overwhelming however distant. Yet I could hear it, piercing and small. A child was whimpering. Vacant blue eyes, speckled green eyes, dark amber eyes, short lashes, thick lashes were consuming my every move. Fear was suffocating the 737 Boeing and without answers mayhem would ensue.

“ What is going on,” I gasped. “There is an emergency and we must divert into Indianapolis. Please STAY CALM and keep the cabin CALM. We are not sure of the exact details but have been notified we must land immediately. Again, you must STAY CALM.” I turned. I faced them. I praised God nothing was wrong with our plane and set out to do what I was trained to do. STAY CALM. I explained the situation to my crewmembers and decided to address the empty faces seeking a shepherd. A sound wafted through the intercom system. A sound so hollow and flat it was unfamiliar to me, unrecognizable, distant: my own voice. “For reasons beyond our control we have been diverted to Indianapolis. Please STAY CALM. The plane is in complete working order and we are not in an emergency landing situation. I will advise you of the details as they become known to me. Again, we appreciate your cooperation and ask that you STAY CALM. Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened, your tray tables are in their full upright and locked position and that all of your carry on items are completely stowed. Flight attendants, please be seated for landing.”

The mind reels. Perhaps it is something as minor as weather. That must be it. The weather in Chicago is……it’s September…..too windy. It must be too windy to land in Chicago. STAY CALM. You’ve worked hundreds of flights. No, more than that. You’ve worked at least five hundred. It cannot possibly be the weather. Maybe Captain Thomas is not feeling well. Perhaps something is going on with his heart. Shit, what if he’s having a stroke? He’s got to be over 60. Jesus, what will we do if the Captain has a stroke during landing? Don’t look into their eyes. They will see right through you. They will sense your fear. She’s crying, 3A is crying and, my God, 14B has a newborn in her lap. STAY CALM. STAY CALM. I need to call my parents. Wait. They are in Paris and your cell is in your bag anyway and they will see your hands trembling. Something is wrong. Something is terribly, terribly wrong. Your fists are dripping sweat. Unclench your fists. They see your fists. Breathe. Why is my heart slowing down? Shouldn’t it be racing? Does it feel death lurking 30,000 feet in the air? What if the landing gear is jacked up and he’s just not telling us? Shit, I am going to die on this plane. I am 20 years old and I am going to die. What if there is a hole and everything breaks in half? That’s not possible right? We won’t all get sucked out of some gaping hole into thin air? Dear God, please just let us land safely. I beg you, for myself, I am 20 years old. I have so much life left to live, but mostly for these innocent people, babies crying, mothers patting, heads bowing. God, forgive me for all the crappy things I’ve done in my life. I’m sorry I had too many beers at happy hour and I’m sorry for using a fake ID to get into happy hour. Do you hear me God? I am not old enough to die. I am not even old enough to drink. I’m sorry for not going to church enough. I am a glorified cocktail waitress. I am not prepared to be the last hope these people have. God, I will do ANYTHING you ask. I will STAY CALM.

What the hell? We are circling. Why are we circling? Why aren’t we landing? This is taking entirely too long. People are shifting; their shoulders lowering. They know. They feel the scales teetering. They are reaching. Their breaths are becoming rapid. Will it be their last breath? Should they write a note? Ha. Should they make a call? STAY CALM. STAY CALM. Enough. I’m going in there and asking them what in God’s name is going on.

“A hi-jacked plane has flown into the World Trade Center. STAY CALM.”

BUTTERFLY WINGS

Yesterday was a dandy of a day and I will pat myself on the back and say I kept my chin up through most of it.

I constantly, every second, worry about Betty's little heart. I want her to grow up to be confident, to know how much love surrounds her, to feel adequate and strong.

As I do every day, I prayed for her during the morning shower prayer but in a more specific way it seemed. I found myself asking specific questions and praying for her in a more open way.

Dandy of a day.

I woke up at 3:19 a.m. and tossed and turned for at least an hour. She must have sensed me being awake and she woke up also. She reached over and scratched the top of my head, the way you would a puppy. She patted my face and put her arms around me in a big hug kind of way. I patted her back and when I stopped she began to pat mine.

And my prayers were answered.

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN ASCETICISM AND HEDONISM IS ONE FINE MONK

A MARRIAGE BY R.S.THOMAS

We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love’s moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
‘Come,’ said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance. And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird’s grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.


—R. S. Thomas

BEFORE YOU WERE A FAIRY GODMOTHER

Since children have 8 halloweens these days I needed to find another costume for Betty. She is going to be a butterfly this weekend and refused to wear any of her princess outfits because "those are dress up clothes. not costumes." So we headed down to Poppy's to go through her costume basket. And what did our little eyes spy? This little floral number circa 1988. And, of course, my little girlie girl was set on it from second one. I pleaded.

Me: What are you going to be in that dress?
Betty: A flower princess.
Me: You have 18 princess dresses at home.
Mom: Not floral ones...
Betty: I'm going to be a floral princess.
Me: No. No you're not. You're going to be a Menonite.
Mom: Bun, white socks, white tennis shoes. Perfect.
Me: Perfect. Menonite it is.

NEWEST MEMBERS OF THE PLAYLIST. PLAY ON.

FROM BAPTISM GOWN TO 'WEDDING DRESS' IN A HURRY

WHERE THE RED WINE AGES

I am 31. Another year has passed. Another incredible 365 days. I started an entry many days ago regarding the lessons I have learned this year. So many. So many lessons. So much change and growth. So many things I KNOW God had a hand in. He was in my heart. He has been swirling all around me this year.

Have faith. Know there is a plan for you. I have learned more about myself and life in general this year than all of my years combined. And I hope I can say that every year. A new depth. A new perception. A new life. A new layer. Faith. Trust.

Have forgiveness. I stood at the Trevi Fountain in Rome in January and tossed in two coins. One for my return to Rome and one for my heart's own wish: forgiveness. And throughout this year, I have finally realized, you are already forgiven. Before you even ask, you are granted mercy and compassion.

Let go. As I sit in wine country and gaze upon rows of ripe ready-to-be-harvested grapes, I am reminded of how much life will change. The course of our lives is never clear. You must experience the lows of the valleys to appreicate the highs of mountaintop. Life is such an amazing blessing. With each curvy turn, there is always a great surprise in store. There is always light, guidance, love.

Love yourself. Love yourself often and remember the gifts you give each and every day. Believe in the difference you make.

I am not perfect. Just another year older with a bit more wisdom and a true appreciation for renewal and knowing sometimes in order for gold to emerge brighter, stronger and more precious, it must go through fire.

BE KIND.
Recognize your worth.

Forgive others.

Do what makes you happy because you deserve it.

Never ever ever ever ever give up. And always always stop to smell the wine barrel.

BTHO STOKE CITY

Dear Manchester United Kingdom Best Soccer Team Everrrrrrrrrrr,

I see you on my blog. Is it you, Sir Alex Ferguson? Or maybe you, Javier Hernandez? How did you know I had to bust #4's tail at her game last night after telling her 9 times to SIT YOUR TAIL ON THAT BENCH IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE GAME. I'm blushing as I didn't think anyone saw me, AKA frustrated mom who's daughter doesn't give a rat's butt about soccer or any other sport for that matter unless it can be played in a pink princess dress. Betty's games are Tuesday and Thursday at 5:30 CST which would be like, I don't know, 12:30 a.m. or whatever. Will travel to a Red's game, if you can get her to kick the ball.

Soccer Rules,
G

WHAT I GIVE UP

FIVE LITTLE WORDS

Yesterday:

Pre-K at FUMC
Work
Lions Club
Soccer
Soccer pictures
Homemade pizza
Bath
Brush
Books
Bed
Pick up house
Fold laundry
Unload dishwasher
Load dishwasher
Spanish Quiz
Spanish Test
Spanish Homework
Read three poems
Read three poems again
Bed

Somewhere in the midst of all this madness, a tiny little pigtailed rose lipped maiden stuck her boppy head out of the window and said with a grand sigh, "Ahhhhhhhhh, my heart is so uncomplicated."

Today:

A heart so full it could burst.

IT'S ALWAYS BETTER THAN I COULD EVER IMAGINE

I dreamt of fancy footwork and the soccer ball whoooooshing through the net. Momma Calvert standing up to clap and cheer for her future Abbey Wambach. I imagined huddles and high fives and ball hogging and whatever else the heck comes with soccer since I've never played it in my life until now.

Instead.....

In the middle of last night's game Little #4 walked right off the field and plopped down on the other team's bench. I imagine it went something like this, "Hey, I like your blue jersey. It's very handsome. So what's up with this whole soccer game thing? Um because, I would much rather sit here chillin and chattin with you guys. By the way, I have purple and pink gatorade over there if anyone is interested. Well, great job out there and go get em."

And then she walks back onto the field straight towards me and shouts out MOMMA I LOVE YOU.

That's what it's all about people. My dreams pale in comparison to what actually comes true. She is me only better.

I AM YOUR BIGGEST FAN

LITTLE MISS CHEERY SKIRT

Um, once again. Who's child is this? Nevermind that she looks EXACTLY LIKE HER DAD in this picture. Let's talk about the fact that she was awarded "Little Miss Cheer" at cheer camp today. Um, I tried out for cheerleader.....twice. I didn't get it either time. My lack of rhythm and total awkwardness did not help. I don't think I possess one single athletic cell in my body. I am not the cheery yelly type. Yet according to every cheerleader on the Lynxette squad, Betty was the cheeriest of the bunch. I almost died watching her do kicks and jumps. I could not love anything more. GO LYNX GO!

Keep the shock comin'. Now, that's my style.....

Read more here. www.puravidanow.blogspot.com

PEACE, LOVE AND HAPPINESS

Typically, I put all my peace pics in one blog but I don't have time for that this year. So, I narrowed it down to one and for some reason this picture made me laugh out loud.

PEACE!

SMUDGIN' AND STUFF

Using Sage to "Smudge" is a simple and powerful way to clear your energy field and remove negative energy from the area. You can smudge with sage, cedar, lavender, and many other herbs. Sage comes in several forms but I suggest that white (desert) rather than the green garden sage be used.

Smudging is the process of burning the dried plant and fanning the smoke over your body with sacred intention. You should also smudge the area in and around where you intend to do your sacred work. Smudging is best known as a Native American ritual, but it is found in other cultures as well.

Smudging is a simple way of thanking the earth and purifying a space. Variations of smudging are found in cultures throughout the world.

Sage is used to purify the mind, body and spirit before praying. It is also used to purify sacred items such as pipes, and eagle feathers. Some may use it to purify their homes, offices, cars and some carry a small amount of Sage in a pocket or medicine pouch to insure personal and spiritual safety.

Sage is burned to drive out bad spirits or feelings and is valued for its aromatic properties. As the smoke rises so does the negative energy. If you are cleansing a room or house, try to open the windows and let the smoke carry the negative energy right out the window.


Me: I am bringing my smudge stick to Dallas this weekend if you want a real life Choctaw to smudge your new homes......I know. It just keeps getting weirder.

Me: Native Americans "smudge". My grandmother smudged my house a couple of weeks ago and I can do yours because I am an Indian woman and head of the household.

Rebecca: Bring a truckload of that s#&% down here.

LeeAnn: No idea what a smudge stick does but it better not get my new couch dirty!!!

MY WISH FOR YOU......

Me: Let's say our prayers.

Betty: Hold my hands momma and you go first.

Me: Lord's Prayer.

Betty: Star light, star bright.......give this wish I wish tonight.

Me: What was your wish?

Betty: MORE PINK CURTAINS.

NEW FROM ITALY

My friend Giulia sent me this video recently and I find it beautiful and incredibly sweet. He died from cancer complications in 2006. The girl is his wife and from what I can understand "he longs for nothing but her." Enjoy!

AND DANCE BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

There was a full moon Friday night (thank you Farmer's Almanac) so Betty and I decided to 'campout' in the backyard. We made a huge pallet with a ton of soft blankets and fell asleep under the stars. Note to self: Mattie Mac and Cody Mac will wake you up especially if they have been drinking.




Saturday morning I turned the coffee pot to 10 cups and cooked breakfast for my peeps. My parents came over and we had mimosas. Note to self: Mattie Mac hates turkey bacon. And then all hippy hell broke loose. My mom, Betty and I spent the day in my herb garden. We made lavender body scrubs, rosemary and peppercorn olive oil and echinacea and marigold tea (because who drinks echinacea and marigold tea? this girl). We laughed, we worked and we made some damn cute stuff. It felt amazing to be in the sunshine and dirt. Note to self: Cutting things with a three year old lefty requires much patience.













Saturday evening we had steaks and relaxed. Betty made a marigold pie and we danced on the stoop by the pond.



On Sunday my Honey came to smudge my house(blog and pics to follow). Everyone cooked lunch together and we set up Betty's pool. We had a smoked tenderloin with rosemary mashed potatoes and a cold cucumber salad. It was DELIGHTFUL. We spent the rest of the day watching the World Cup. Note to self: Abbey Wambach is a badass. Later I made fajitas smothered in Mattie's delicious guacamole and we sat by the pond all evening while Betty went on a 'froghunt'.

Something about this weekend changed my prospective. Perhaps my heart has been fluttering around looking for a place to rest. Perhaps, I never REALLY thought about living in Spearman for the rest of my life, and maybe I won't, but it's time to bloom where you're planted. BLOOM WHERE YOU'RE PLANTED. Perhaps, I am simply getting to know myself better. Being around my mom and grandmother reminds me that this earthiness in my soul is not just a characteristic; it is a gift and Betty has it too. Some sort of Indian fire burns in her heart as well and I know she will shine a light on this world like no other. There is a twinkle in her eyes which has not gone unnoticed. It's all around her. This brightness that changes your day and melts your heart.

I don't really believe I am a hippy. I have good hygiene and I don't do drugs. What I do believe is my blood runs ChocTaw. DAMN. CRAZY. INDIAN.



Note to self: Mattie's eyes are very sensitive to the sun since Lasik.

MAY THE 4TH BE WITH YOU-LLANO 2011

THE ONE YOU FEED

Big circle people. Stick with me.

From my bff:

An old Cherokee Indian was speaking to his grandson:

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil–he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good — he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a long minute, and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

My baby sister got engaged this weekend. Her senior picture rests on my dashboard and I look at if often. WWMD? What can I do today that will inspire her? How can I make her proud. She looks up to me and I need to let my life speak. Let your life speak.......

As I drove this weekend, I looked at Mattie's picture and I heard the words open your heart. It is time to open your heart. Your heart has been closed long enough. Your heart has spent enough time broken. Open your heart.

And I was reminded of a fortune I once opened which said, "Those who do not fight do not conquer." And at that very moment I knew. What would Mattie do? What has Mattie done? She has fought for herself. She has fought for love. And at that very moment I knew. I knew it was time to go to the mattresses. Fight for the goodness inside of you. Open your heart. Let your life speak.

And so this week, a very dear chef friend of mine with a black mohawk and freckles is coming to cook for me.

Which one will win? The one you feed.

KEEP A TRUCKIN'

I have had a rough week. There have been a couple of days I have wanted to punch something and scream out, 'WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO EFFING HARD?' which I didn't and that totally leads to wanting to bawl my eyes out from holding it all together which I didn't. Some weeks are just like that I suppose. Sometimes you feel more lonely or angry or sad. Sometimes it is just EFFING HARD because it just is. Sometimes you need to ask God for a little extra help so I have been.....all week.

And then you round the corner and see that the very first tomato you have ever planted by yourself in your whole life is ripe and ready. And you pop that sucker in your daughter's mouth and she squeals with delight AND MAN DOES IT FEEL GOOD.

And shortly after you ignore a phone call from an unknown number which leaves you a voicemail and when you check said voicemail there is a message from Coffee Memorial Blood Center identifying the exact hospital where your blood was sent to save a life AND MAN DOES IT FEEL GOOD.

And on the very same day you realize you submitted an assignment.....to a professor.....at a college. You're a college student again AND MAN DOES IT FEEL GOOD.

And you order flowers for your sister for her birthday and you make a roast for your Nanny and you kiss your sleeping baby and you tell your heart and soul to keep a truckin'. NEVER NEVER GIVE UP you hear Winston Churchill say. NEVER NEVER GIVE UP.

And then just like that, you start to feel better. You start to remember how gosh dang good life is. How blessed you are and how much God loves you and if you will just ask, if you will just whisper His name, He will give you all the help you need.

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion. ~Dalai Lama

TO LILY WHO BETTER NOT BE LEONARD SINCE YOUR ROOM IS DANG PINK

Dear Lily Leifer,


GIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLL, you don't even know! Where to begin?

Your momma is my best friend. We have been through a lot together. A ton of happiness and some sad times too. We have cried together and lost love together and drank our weight in Kim Crawford together. She has always been there for me listening, supporting, protecting. She's a tough bird and has risen above some difficult situations in her life and as I watched you do the backstroke in her belly this weekend YOU, Ms. Lily, reminded me LIFE GOES ON. Miracles happen and happiness is just around the corner. I watched your daddy hang curtains and your mom pat her bowling ball belly. I felt you move and saw a picture of the tiny new life that is you. YOU, Ms. Lily, have so much goodness in store. You are already surrounded by so much love. I cannot wait to meet you. I cannot wait to listen to your momma sing to you. I often ask myself if there is another baby in my future and the answer is yes. God's speed, Lily. Betty and I will see you soon!

Love,
G

SWEET RELEASE BON IVER

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMA! TURN IT UP!

A LOT OF PARENTHESES

I would like to know how many people the average person befriends on vacation. My 'winter' excursion consisted of approximately 12 Italians. Six of which are now my Facebook friends and two I chat with almost every day via MSN. Lordy.

Let's evaluate the friend making process on my latest trip. Hour number 1ish at FLL airport (aka Ft. Lauderdale to non-exflightattendants) I met Lucas (ATV guide from Costa Rica, just found out he is going to be a dad, home for a few months to work in the States....what else would you like to know?) and Kim (sales manager in Chicago, traveling to see her boyfriend (he's from Colorado and is a fly-fisherman (soooooo not Kim's type)) in Costa Rica (they met while teaching at an orphanage and he stayed in CR). Hour 1.5ish we're all friends on Facebook and sharing beers and waffle fries. So you get my drift.

Perhaps if I could acknowledge one special gift I possess, it would be embracing people. I have a way with most peeps and somehow ignite a spark within them whether it's a smile or a conversation. I seem to have the gift of charming (or dragging) every little tiny detail from birth to the moment we are sharing a beer. I love to listen to their stories....their fears, dreams, favorite restaurants, and why HE.IS.SOOOOOO.NOT.HER.TYPE.BUT.SHE'S.GOING.ANYWAY. You can learn so much about this life by simply carrying on a conversation, a real life talking conversation, with another human being.

Which brings me to the next story of friendship in Honduras. Richie. My angel Richie. Richie hopped in the back of the pickup with us on our way to the airport. He's thirteen, giraffeish like me and an incredibly special boy. He has 2 brothers and 14 sisters, God rest his soul. Richie helped us with our bags and even hung around waiting for us to clear security. As he strolled through the airport, several of the locals nodded or said Hola Richie making it quite obvious he spends a lot of time taking tips for helping bratty tourists like us with their bags. We watched him devour a hot dog and I asked him what he likes to do for fun. Richie likes school and kickball and his siblings. He said he would take the money he earned today and buy beans and rice for his family.

Richie has not really left my mind since Sunday. He is a 13 year old boy living in a tiny tiny hut in South America with not much more than 17 mouths to feed and mismatched flip flops but he is happy. TRULY HAPPY. SIMPLY HAPPY. Happy to help us, happy to be a kid, happy to sit and visit over a hot dog. It is this person that I truly love the most and long to know on a deeper level. Although challenged, he has endured 13 years of hardship and carries a smile straight from Heaven. Angels. Angels sent here to remind of us our rich and abundant lives. Simple people who remind you life is not about all of the junk. It's not about new bedding from Pottery Barn or flat screens or LV handbags. And how a good 'decluttering' might be good for us all. Richie in his own simple way made a difference in my life this weekend. His light will shine into a window of my heart. Somehow, I am certain we will meet again and hopefully I can give as he has given to me.

As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness. ~Henry David Thoreau

LOVE OF MY LIFE

THE APPLE DOESN'T FALL FAR FROM THE TREE

I should probably ask for her forgiveness now.

Betty,

Please forgive me for making you a hippie, gypsy, freebird, flower child.

Love,
Mom

CMB + MBD= LOVE

Dear CMB,

Where do I start? Can Mattie please keep her maiden name? Just kidding.

So you've been dating my sister for years now and I must say I didn't REEEEEALLY know you. In fact, I barely knew you at all. But gosh dang, Cody Mac, the more you come around and the more I get to know you, the better I like you. I'm not saying I didn't like you in the beginning. I just DIDN'T KNOW YOU.

Your 'SOMEDAAAAAAAAY LOVE WILL FIND YOU' fist pumping and head banging this past weekend totally cracked me up and I saw a silly comfortable side I had not been privy to before. You're funny and kind and you look at my sister with love and affection. I like you and I hope you become part of our family soon. I feel like you already are in some aspects. You like us (or act like it which counts) for who we are and forgive our faults and crazy ask ways. I find you quite hilarious and totally appreciate how you handle Mattie. She's my baby sister and she needs a pillar sometimes. You're great at that. Anywho, not to go on and on, I'm just glad you are in her life and you two are happy together.

But remember, I'm watching you focker. Circle of Trust.

MY BETTY

I cannot get over it. I cannot shake it. I cannot remember ever feeling so loved. I will never forget it. She crawled into my bed, put her dimpled hand in mine and patted me until we fell asleep. I will never love anything more. I am hers but she is not mine.

The challenges, the hardship, the frustration is erased by these tiny moments. Your heart flutters and you know "the very best you can" is enough. You feel redemption for your mistakes and know the love you share has reached her heart.

HONDURAS BABAY

I'm not real sure how this ish happens to me but cheers to the next great adventure:

From my friend:
Ok I have booked another flight, we are set to stay through Monday. I spoke with Tommy he and his wife have taken off the end of the week to island hop with us. So he booked our rooms at Infinity although we will be spending a day or two island hopping to two in Gauanja and Utillia, Cayos & Cochinos islands on their boat.



In short we are good to go, Wendy is working our flights from SAP to Roatan and the return flight, should be done tomorrow. The island awaits us! Tommy has a personal driver in SAP that will escort us from the airport to the hotel when arriving late.



I will rent a jeep Friday – Monday, we can take water taxis from the bars.



Sorry this is short, I just wanted ya’ll to know we are good to go! I’ll send some more details soon.


Cayos and Cochinos islands in the pic below

LITTLES

it doesn't get more precious than this

and this

except for maybe this

AYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAAAAAA!

EDEN

IRIS




GRAPES


PARSLEY


MINT


OREGANO


CHIVES


ECHINACEA






PEONY