Posts Tagged ‘memories’

Games for 2 year olds

I came across this link tonight, so we decided to try teaching Ring around the rosy to Hannah. It was hysterical! Thought I’d share a video. This is another link with fun things to do. We laughed and smiled together a whole lot tonight. 🙂


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Pumpkin Carving

Hannah actually kind of understood what we were doing this year.

Audrey didn’t care. But pumpkins are pretty cool.

This proves once and for all: I am a nerdy piano teacher. And it was fun, too.

Hannah helped get one handful of the pumpkin guts out, then she was done.

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On playing outside

Hannah requested we go outside today. I don’t really remember the last time she asked.

It’s funny. Of late, I have not thought of myself as a particularly outdoorsy person. In the past year (or two!), we have done more tv watching than I care to admit. As we were playing outside today, I was thinking of all the things my siblings and I did outside as kids. When I was really young and we were living in California, we would spend hours outside – chasing chickens around the backyard, working in the garden, digging “streams” with the hose, riding bikes on the patio…the possibilities seemed endless. When we moved to Colorado we lived for a year out here in the forest before moving into town. We had an “Indian Camp” complete with teepees made out of small fallen trees and old sheets. We also built a stage by nailing boards between two trees and throwing sheets over it for curtains. We would take our old red wagon and give each other “tours” around the five acres. When we did move to town, I would spend hours in my garden.

So, not only have I been missing the outside, I’ve been missing my own creativity!

When I got pregnant with Hannah and then had to recover from the c-section, it changed the way I related to the outside. Suddenly everything seemed uncomfortable and full of germs. Even the way I moved seemed to change. Does anybody else relate to this? I became an old lady! 🙂

Add to all of this a dumb fear I have always had of looking silly or undignified, and you have a recipe for someone who does not spend much time outside. I think one of the most profound things on TV is Bert and Ernie. They have this one episode in which Ernie is talking to an elephant on a banana. He encourages Bert to try it. It goes something like this:

B: I don’t want to. I’ll look silly.
E: Silly’s fun, Bert!
B: I’m not really good at that kind of thing.
E: Just try it.

I can relate. When did I become so self-conscious?

But today, we just went outside and we played. I taught Hannah to catch a ball (well, I taught her to hold her hands and arms close together so I could strategically drop the ball in her arms. Ya gotta start somewhere!). I gathered up some of the millions of pine cones and threw them toward one area so we can actually mow, and the girls can walk without tripping. Hannah picked at the bark on a tree – the first time she’s ever seen that. Audrey looked at pine needles. We discovered a feather on the ground. I showed Hannah how to blow a dandelion puff. We picked wildflowers. We enjoyed the clouds and sunshine.

And I gotta say, this beats being a grownup any day. I’m never going back.

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My love

Three years ago Tuesday, I married my best friend.

It was a rainy, misty day, the coldest July day in Colorado Springs history. The ceremony that was to be outside was moved inside, to the barn already decorated to host the reception. Tables were pushed aside for an aisle, the wreath wrapped with ribbon and tulle was re-hung, and a horse and carriage came to pick up my father and me from my parents’ house down the dirt drive. I carried a bouquet of wildflowers. My cousins played harp, violin and viola. A couple hundred people we love saw us exchange our vows.

It wasn’t what I expected. The ceremony could not take place in the wet grass under dripping pine trees, but the barn was warm(er), and full of joy. The mist outside gave our pictures a magical quality. The caterer we hired fell on hard times and did not have the money to serve what he had promised. Nobody will remember the food anyway. The best man dropped my ring on the dusty wooden second floor of the barn. We were all thankful there were no cracks for it to fall through, and laughed. Pastor Ross, who Nick and I respect now more than ever, served us communion and made jokes about “all Nick has to do is be like Jesus.”

And I married my best friend.

Three years, one c-section, one homebirth, four (soon to be five) moves, and one seizure later, I love him more now than I ever thought I could. We have two beautiful children, a relationship of mutual trust and respect and tenderness, and a great future. I love you, Nick.

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This made me smile today. I grew up with chickens in the backyard too. Apricots and chickens. Actually, the chickens enjoyed the apricots also.

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Mmmmm…apricots. We got a whole bunch of them in our door to door order this week. Apricots hold a special place in my memories.

When I was growing up in southern California, we had a huge apricot tree in the middle of our backyard. I remember the taste of them, picked ripe right off the tree. I remember filling our old red wagon with fallen fruit and concocting all kinds of “recipes” with them. I remember climbing high in the tree to find that one perfect apricot – firm, fuzzy skin with a soft, juicy inside that tastes like sunshine. Orange with just a blush of pink. You bite and it falls apart and the small brown seed drops into your hand.

Eventually, our tree became infected with some sort of bug that slowly killed it. We had someone come and remove the tree the following summer. I wasn’t more than 10, but I still remember the feeling of losing that tree. Standing on the stump where I had formerly climbed a 30 foot tree was a sad experience.

But, I still smile when I bite into an apricot. They are sunshine and wind and freedom and fun.

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