Thank You!

Thank you to the friends and the anonymous poster who has helped me get my layout back to normal! It was totally driving me nuts! So thanks for taking the time out to help and put a smile on my face!

A nice evening to you,

~C

HELP!

Can anyone tell me why my layout has changed and now has all my links at the very bottom of the page?? It happened over the last few days and I've been hoping it will fix itself, but it still has not.

Any help would be very much appreciated!

Thanks, C

Do You Dare?

Author, Paulo Coelho, believes in dreamers...

"It is the pleasure of searching and the pleasure of the adventure. You are nourishing something that's very important-your dreams. We must never stop dreaming. Dreams provide nourishment for the soul, just as a meal does for the body. Many times in our lives we see our dreams shattered and our desires frustrated, but we have to continue dreaming. If we don't, our soul dies......The Good fight is the one we fight because our heart asks it of us...

...The Good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young our dreams first explode inside us with all of their force, we are very courageous, but we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight, but by then we no longer have the courage to go into combat. So we turn against ourselves and do battle within. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams were childish, or too difficult to realize, or the result or our not having known enough about life. We kill our dreams because we are afraid to fight the good fight.

The first symptom of the process of killing our dreams is lack of time... The Busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The Truth is, they are afraid to fight the good fight...

The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don't want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what's important is only that they are fighting the good fight.

Are you FIGHTING THE GOOD FIGHT?

And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams-we have refused to fight the good fight.

When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being. We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves...What we sought to avoid in combat-disappointment and defeat-came upon us because of our cowardice. And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breath, and we actually seek death. It's death that frees us from out certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of Sunday afternoons."

The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho P. 58
Brought to you by http://idreamnowtravelblog.com/

Do you DARE TO DREAM?

I find this passage so important. I've come across it a few times over the years and it makes me want to forget the mundane and get back to work! It reminds me that time NEVER stops and the wishes and dreams--the ones worth fighting for, wont fight for themselves. The intrinsic happiness will not appear as a wrapped gift on the porch one morning, but waits to be created, nurtured and handled with an immense amount of patience and care. Happy dreaming and living!

photography by la petite fille de faon

Broken Wholeness

I've been blog-hopping quite a bit lately. I'm on a quest for inspiring souls, the kind who leap, sing, and dance. The sort who hide nothing and bare their heart open. Vulnerable yet trusting souls; the very sort I wish to be.

How will I get there? I ask myself. Read more self-care books, re-connect with friends who I've become distanced from along the way? Meet with a therapist? Should I write until there are no more words coming out of me with hopes that the healing will somehow transpire between the lines? Should I take up yoga, learn massage, or pick up that old guitar and learn to play so I can sing those sad tunes? Should I say sorry, or force myself open to those who I am not close with, but feel I should be? Should I pray more often, or make a truce--between my heart and the parts broken?

Are our hearts ever whole? Or are they a Mosaic of the mess, the madness, the dreams, the love; cracked here and there, uneven and jagged--each it's own; incapable of being replicated or whole? Does each heart have pieces missing...given...or taken? Is there but one who hasn't suffered a break?

I hate to dwell on the aches and pains, but I'd like to settle the score with a few of them. How must one go about reclaiming those parts, when for so long, the underpinnings of her thoughts have been shadowed by years of false-belief and suppression; insomuch, that broken fragments have created a cozy home in her self-conscious and pay visit in her dreams.

Broken Wholeness by cassdav3 on Polyvore.com

A Tribute to Daddy

Because we had a really full weekend, Father's Day was a recovery day. Here's what Daddy's day looked like...

slept in

pancakes in bed
slept more
family t.v. time
nap
tropicana sandwiches

family t.v. time
family nap
family t.v. time

italian nachos

praline turtle cake

& of course...

lots of lovins' for Daddy!

The husband is such a great Dad. He shows Brooklynn and Asher so much love through his affection, playfulness, and all that he provides for our family. He's a tease, he's adventurous, and he's a great teacher. Spending time with Daddy is a treat. He knows how to spoil and show the kiddos a perfect time, and the love and affection is endless.

A Sunday Morning Serenade

I just came across the most beautiful rendition of two songs intertwined into one on rockstar diaries. I believe you'll love it, too! Here is the story on its making.



Thanks to Jon Schmidt for posting this piece.

Don't forget to hit pause on my playlist to listen!

Time to Re-think

FRIENDS,

Waking up at 4am is NOT the answer to finding a balance in my writing/motherhood/lack-of-time delimma. Even when my hubby was hustling about for his second-day-in-a-row fishing adventure at 4am this morning, my body refused to budge. I gave a split-second thought to the possibility of what I could do with three free hours before the babies woke, but in just another split-second I was fast asleep. Owning the most comfortable bed (that Nate and I still can't believe we have to ourselves) probably has plenty to do with it. So, today I will consider a new game plan. Thank you for lending me your thoughts on my writing/motherhood/lack-of-time dilemma. Your encouragement and ideas are great and I can't wait to try them out!

Happy Wednesday!

Determination & Discipline = Happiness

N set his alarm for 4am today so he could go Steel head fishing. After his alarm clock went off I began wondering how long it would take for him to throw off the covers and plant his feet on the floor. But before I could finish thinking this thought, he was up and dressing himself for a morning on the river. 4am is nothing for an outdoorsman determined to catch Steel head. N told me yesterday that he is giving himself 30 days to catch a Steel head, and until he catches one, his daily fishing streak will continue. If he catches one before 30 days he'll "cut back and make it a 3-4 days a week." I smile.

If there is one thing that I have learned throughout our marriage, it is to encourage N's fishing hobby. For a fast-paced, spontaneous, and slightly rambunctious guy like my husband, quiet is not often sought. For a girl who loves her solitude, I don't quite understand this sort of existence, but know that good things are happening when N comes home from fishing with his buddies (who are also very much like him) talking about what a great time he had. Not necessarily because of his friends being there, he says, but because it is quiet. He hasn't quite put the feelings into words, but I know that feeling that he can't get enough of. Serenity. Solitude. It is safe to say that I have no issues with N's time spent fishing, or his die hard determination. With birds chirping, the river moving, and fish jumping--It is a certainty that God is teaching.

I consider N's motivation and determination to succeed at catching a Steel head and compare it with my writing. I was so inspired by him that I even got out of bed at 4:15am today. For the last few days especially, I've felt frustrated with the timing of wanting to be SO many things 100%. Mostly though, it is the writer in me who feels confined. Too much to say in my mind and not enough time to see enough to its fruition. I am a mother, a doting mother at that. I am snobby enough that the thought of a regular sitter for my kids pains my heart and makes me yell "No way!" on the inside. But the urges to sit down and write and create never leave me throughout the day. When I am at the park with the kids, I think in descriptive sentences. While I am on the treadmill, spontaneous writing topics scatter my mind. When I am home and near my computer, I get anxious because the timing is not right. I have children who deserve the most undivided attention that I can give them. They deserve new experiences, to play A LOT, and to be stimulated. I'm struggling to find a balance between giving these things to my children and doing the same for myself.

Just as the past few days have gone, I sit here wondering what shall I do? Will I continue the same sporadic routine and attempt to get some writing in at 8am, maybe 2pm, and on occasion in the late evening? These windows of time have proven to be insuffice, as I look at a handful of posts and ideas that go unfinished and mostly forgotten about. Not the best writing regimen. I must come up with a better plan!

Plan of Action

1. Set coffee pot the night before.

2. Set alarm for 4am.

3. Write/read until the kiddos wake.

4. Attempt my normal daily routine with the fam.

5. Go to bed shortly after the babes.

6. Do it all over again.*

*This plan of action is the first in a series. Once I map out my writing goals and in what time frame I am striving for, I will re-assess and make a more precise plan. This will do for now.

Am I crazy? How do you balance such things in your life?

Cheers and Good Morning!

P.S. N just called to tell me he's on his way home and he had success! With determination and discipline he prevails!

Word Art

Tonight I came across some good word art. I am such a sucker for words. Although this is not how I intended on spending my quiet evening to myself, here are a few favorites...

Images taken from i can read.

A Farewell

My parents have officially flown the coop. After making Vancouver, WA home 24 years ago and the last couple of years of deciding what to do next, they finally decided to head to the mountainous state of Utah to reside and rest their feathers. They will join family members-a-plenty and surely make themselves at home quickly. I am so happy that their journey has directed them on to a new place, other loving faces to see regularly, and a fresh start. Life will not be the same here without them, but we are so very excited to see where this next phase of life takes them; onto much more happiness, I am sure! They truly deserve it!

The Rockies in all their glory...

Photos taken from Google Images

Not a bad place to live, huh? I'd love to be there in the fall...

Cookies & Eye-Candy

Today has been a rather uneventful day. Earlier, I imagined getting the kiddos and myself ready to go out and visit some shops, but then talked myself out of it because I really shouldn't spend any money. Last week N and I picked up a comforter at my new favorite store Anthropologie--note--the website does not do the store justice. How I had missed this treasure of a store until now, is baffling. Every shelf, table, and rack presents something beautiful and intricately created. Utter eye-candy. I am in love. So, instead of rushing out to hit up some shops, the kiddos and I stayed in our jammies far too long, played pretend in the playroom, painted, read books, and made these...

Susy Wire snagged from coco+kelley Print titled "Always Remember" by Dazeychic on Etsy. Bouquet by LMD snagged from coco+kelley

And here are a few inspiring morsels for you...

Picture/Journal by

Hope your day is going wonderfully!

Oh, how I'd love to look at these every day.
Mrs. Sigg's Peanut Butter Cookies--I highly recommend this recipe!

Art by Brooklynn & Mommy

This morning Brooklynn and I had fun creating. When we were almost finished, she said, "I want one to put on my wall." I got to thinking about how she had no idea what I was writing on the page and what it meant. Thank goodness. I feel guilty about how scared of life I've been lately and how cynical I might sound. I am really not these things.

And life--life's just being itself...tossing me out to sea without a buoy; making me tread water till that life boat happens upon me...And life boats always come...and harbors...there are always safe harbors.

It's as if I want to tell her now the things that I'm learning, you know? It's so easy to explain when you're in the midst of a moment and the feelings are climbing out of your heart. But then that old saying comes to mind,

"I wish I were a kid again, because bruised knees heal faster than broken hearts."

There is nothing that I need to rush to tell her. One day, she'll realize that life includes it all--love, sadness, excitement, sorrow, happiness, growth... I just pray that that big spirit of hers will embrace it all and enjoy the ride.

My daughter is a gem. She's spunky, silly, so very smart, adorable, SO outgoing, kind, compassionate, and full of love. I think of the picture/quote that we created and want to keep it forever. My husband always reminds me that things are just things and to never get attached, but that thing that we created together is something that we'll talk about one day. I hope so, anyway. That's the most important part--having someone help you sort it out when you need them.

The Close of My Living Intentionally Challenge

For the last few days I have been wondering how to complete my 37 day challenge. Should I throw in the towel and end it early, or should I do a bunch of little posts summing up what I have been up to this last week or so? I regularly feel happy with how I spend my time, so I don't believe that not having documented 37 days will kill me. I am, however, embarrassed to tell you that I wont be completing the challenge in the way that I hoped (and I don't think the creator of the challenge imagined that twenty-something days would take me forty-five!). So, with that said, I've decided to end the challenge with 25 days; however, I know that I will continue to write about the things that I love and the happenings in my life. The intentional living will continue! How better to spend life than to jump in and soak ourselves in the excitement of all there is to do, see, feel, and enjoy. There is just too much to let pass by.

Here is the last three days:

Day 23: Girl time! Spent an evening on the waterfront in Portland with some amazing girls. We bounced around from here to there and ended the evening dancing to Irish music at Kell's. The bagpipes and fiddles were grand that night. I even practiced a little footwork with a lad who really knew his stuff. Voices from Ireland continue to whisper to me in the wind~~visit soon.

Day 24: Wandered Borders alone for three hours. Books added to my list "to-read:"

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd

Let me Stand Alone-The Journals of Rachel Corrie

Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

And of course, a journal entry written on the floor between book shelves...

Day 25: A lot of self-talk and thinking. It's so easy to not take the time to think about what your thinking about and why things are? It's important to know ourselves and listen to our minds and what our heart speaks. I've been striving to do this much more lately. Without doing so, life spins and tumbles and suddenly I find myself sitting in on some other life that I never intended for myself. Thus, the intentional life WINS again!

I do hope that you have been thinking about how YOU can fill your life with more intentional living, too! Have you been thinking about it? What have you done lately that was intentional? I'd love to hear from any and all of you. YOU inspire me!

To live is so startling
it leaves little time
for anything else.
~Emily Dickinson

Photo by Lizi

Feeble Mind

I've been away from this desk a while for reasons that I was unaware would ever make me want to leave the computer alone and my journal unopened. Things have been tough the last few days, and I've been pushed to a place where the cynic that I never thought I was took over my mind. I haven't yet decided how to handle the unexpected that recently hit, but I am finally beginning to feel more like myself today. Now I sit down to do what my mind does best when it is full--write.

You know those days when the fortress comes down and all the power-players seem to be getting taken out one by one? And suddenly life presents the worst kind of battlefield--terminal illness, self-destruction, lovers choosing alcohol, soldiers unable to sleep because the bombs are too loud, burning bridges, families on the verge of crumbling, people inflicting pain because they've suffered too much themselves. It's a fragile place that we've landed in, and mine is a fragile heart.

Cynicism is just another means of condemnation. A realization shouts "the destruction has always been!" and the only refuge is a faithful heart.

Oh feeble mind, I think. Just stay feeble. The pain and cruelty is too much to bear a second time when trying to write through it all.