On My Mind

For some reason, today, I can't stop thinking about my Grandma Carol.  It's been five years, now, since she passed away.  I can't believe it's been so long since I've seen her.  I just realized, she would be 80 years old now.

She had a magic about her.  She moved through the world with such grace and love.  Anytime you were with her, she made you feel like the most important person in the world. 

I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah.  I lived in the same house my whole life, the same house in which my dad spent most of his growing up years.  When I was a senior in high school, my parents felt impressed to move away to Idaho.  We were then about 200 miles from all our Salt Lake family, my grandma included.  Anytime I tell people this they assume that this was a really hard thing for me to do, moving my senior year of high school.  And to them I always say that if my parents had forced me to go, it probably would have been, but my dad would always say when the topic of me moving to Idaho arose, "We'll do what's right."  I was dead-set that the right thing was for me to stay in Utah and graduate with all my friends.  My friend Erin's parents offered me a place to stay, as did my Grandma.  I was sure I was staying.

Eventually, I had another experience, which I won't go into right now, that opened my mind to the possibility of moving.  I realized that I could make a whole new set of friends if I moved.  I could be the mysterious "new girl" for the first time in my life.  And I'm sure I was not conscious about it then, but I probably wouldn't have had a very easy time without my family around me.  I have an awesome family.  And so, I decided to move.

Why am I telling you this story?  Because today, in one of the many moments I felt my Grandmother's grace alight on my heart, I realized how blessed I was to make the choice to move to Idaho.  I think, had I stayed in Utah, that I would have lived, not with my Grandma Carol, but with my friend, Erin.  Her house was closer to everything... school, work, friends... and she was my FRIEND!  How cool would that be to live with one of my best friends?  (I didn't know at the time that living with friends has good points, but it is also full of challenges.)  So, I chose to move and with that choice came the opportunity of coming back to Salt Lake City to visit. 

From the time we moved in 1995 until the time my precious Grandma passed away in 2006, whenever we'd come back to Salt Lake (which was frequent) we would stay at her house.  For ten years I was graciously welcomed into her home.  And when I became a wife, she welcomed my husband as warmly as she did her own granddaughter.  When my children came along, she adored them and thrilled to have them in her house.  I know it's not easy to have small children in your house, especially when you're used to quiet, but her generous heart never faltered. 

When I was staying there for our family Christmas parties, I would help her in her preparations.  I would set tables, arrange relish trays, move chairs, decorate her Christmas tree, peel potatoes, cook hams, vacuum, shine sinks and make cookies.  She did so much that I was completely unaware of before I got the chance to be there for the prep.  It was my joy to help her and she always made me feel like she couldn't have done it without me, even though we both know that for all of my life before 1995, she did just that. 

Every year she would make her special clam dip.  She had a special fork that she kept at the back of her silverware drawer... it was her clam-dip-cream-cheese stirring fork.  She just liked the way it felt in her fingers... those fingers that I can still see holding that fork.  We had so much fun, laughing as we made ready for all those she so devoutly loved. 

She was, quite simply, the most delightful human being I've ever encountered on this earth. 

She had a poem framed in her kitchen window sill that her friend, Kaye, had written for her.  I've read it so many times, I don't think I could forget it if I tried.  It went like this:

Carol-
Your sunflower self,
of bosom earth,
so caring,
warms the weary world.

How true it was.  How true it is.  She continues to warm this weary world in the memory of anyone who knew her. 

I miss you fiercely, Grandma. 

Ella and Grandma Carol, 2002.

Because It Moved Me

A hundred years ago, I wrote about when I was going to our local sidewalk art show, and how much I loved my own original artwork that I've purchased.  Well, the sidewalk art show was this last weekend.  I only had about an hour to cruise around and view the lovely artwork, but I was going because I love it SO much.  There was one booth that is there every year, a guy who carves walking sticks with old-man faces.  This is not usually a booth that interests me, but my kids wanted to check it out, so in we went. As I was glancing around the booth, I turned to the south wall and saw the most amazing things.  There were only three of them, barn wood pieces painted with black and white portraits of Native Americans.  The one in the middle grabbed me.  I couldn't stop looking at it.  It was an old Native American man in profile.  He was looking far off.  He was aloof and ghost-like.  It reminded me of my grandfather who is 1/4 Cherokee (I think that's the right tribe...?). 

I spoke to the artist for a good 15 minutes.  He doesn't do many of these, never enough for a whole series.  The barn wood is difficult to obtain.  He uses real photographs of Native Americans from a book he has and he only likes to spend about an hour on each piece... just gets a feel for the shapes, shadows and highlights.  A.MAZ.ING.  I was entranced. 

As I chatted with the artist, I kept thinking I would walk away from the booth.  I got his email address so I could have him email me more of these pieces as he did them.  I was going to leave.  Every time I tried, I found myself worried to leave because what if somebody bought this piece?  I watched people walk into his booth and if they looked in the direction of my lovely old Indian man, I found myself stepping a little closer to it, to make sure they knew I was already interested in it.  I felt like it was mine and I had to defend it and protect it from everyone else. 

After the fourth or fifth time I tried to leave, and the fourth or fifth time I "protectively" stepped closer to it, I realized that if I didn't buy this and take it home, I would regret it forever.  And it only cost as much as a tank of gas in my van, for heaven's sake!

"I'm going to buy this right now," I told the artist.  "I can't leave it here." 

"Great!" he responded. 

I discovered I was out of checks, but said that he could take cards. (no power or phone lines, so I was surprised...)  He pulled out his "Jurassic" credit card machine... you know the ones you swipe on carbon paper?  Awesome.  He was all old-school.  I left with my Native American barn wood painting. 

I came home and hung it on a wall... perhaps a temporary spot, but I had to have it up.  I stare at it all the time.  Ella even said to me today, "Mom, why do you keep staring at that?" 

Because I love it and I can't help it... and that's how I know I made the right decision. 

(not a very good picture of it, but you get the idea... 

and you're just grateful that I posted a picture since it's not a forte of mine, right???)

Random Thoughts on a Monday Night

-My husband was in Louisiana for a week and I was living the single-mom life.  I don't like that.  I like being married and having my husband around.  He's awesome.  High fives for my awesome marriage and my kids' awesome daddy.

-There is something I want to do and I find myself gripped by fear about it.  I remember times in my life where I have pushed through fear and doubt.  I need to find that place in myself for this thing I want to do.


-Mac is at scout camp this week.  My son is at scout camp.  I forget he's gone and think I need to call him up for dinner or pick him up from his friend's house.  It's very weird.  I'm sure it will happen more frequently as the years press on.  He turned 11 on the 15th of this month.  How did that happen?  He wears a men's shoe... size 7 1/2.  What???  He's five feet tall.  WHAT?  He has armpit hair.  WHAT!!!!?   He's a real person and he's going to grow up to be this awesome funny human whom I LIKE and have fun with instead of this twerpy kid who I send to time out and who's mouth I wash with soap because he's a little sass-box.  Life is so weird.  And so awesome.

-Ella got a Toys R Us gift card for her birthday.  We redeemed it today and she had a grand time choosing her own gift.  She chose a wolf stuffed animal (wolves are her favorite animal), and a Magic 8 Ball.  I've chuckled endlessly to myself while I listen to Ella and Rohan ask it questions. 

            Rohan:  Ask it if I will go to outer space.
            Ella asks. 
            Magic 8 Ball: YOU CAN COUNT ON IT
            Rohan:  WOW!  I'm going to OUTER SPACE!!!
           
            Rohan: Ask it if I'll see aliens.
            Ella asks.
            Magic 8 Ball:  YES
            Rohan: I'M GOING TO SEE REAL ALIENS!!

            A minute later I've left the room and I'm washing dishes.  Rohan runs in screaming with excitement, "MOM!!!!  I'm going to BUILD my OWN rocket ship to get to outer space!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Those are the mommy-moments that make all those harder mommy-moments worth it.

-I made curry tonight for dinner.  I love curry.

-I got a new purse.  It's red leather.  It's HAWT.  I love it.

-Got my A/C fixed in my car a month or two ago and now it's not working again.  LAMESAUCE.  Seriously.  Makes me want to cry.... or kick something.

The Android and the Tooth Fairy

If you are, at times, a person of *ahem* forgetfulness and your child loses a tooth first thing in the morning, might I suggest putting a little reminder in your phone, be it Android or otherwise, to perform your Tooth Fairyish duties that night? 

It sure saved my bacon. 

Thank you, Android. 

Father's Day Recap

Yesterday was Father's Day, you know.  I've got some great fathers in my life and I'll just tell the world that I love them.  Dustin.  Dad.  Roger.  Gpa Earl.  Gpa C.  I love you. 

I'm blessed with some flippin' sweet dad's, but Dustin and my own daddio are the stars of my own personal Father's Day.  For D, I cooked him an amazing breakfast (can I say that if I cooked it?  guess so, cuz I'm sayin' it).  I tried to keep the kids from fighting, but that's kinda like telling the wind to stop blowing... I wasn't very successful, but maybe the effort was worth something?  Then I cooked his dinner of choice, Yaki Soba.  It was messy and turned my kitchen into a vegetable-scraps-explosion.  I chopped eight zillion veggines and sweated my little, wife-heart out while I cooked the Father's Day meal.  It turned out delish, (do you hear that horn tooting?  yeah, that's mine.) and I was happy to make his tastebuds smile.  My kids whined and called it "Yucky Soba", but when do they not whine about food?  Oh, let me answer that question.  When I make Maria's Homemade Mac and Cheese.  That's about it. 

My sweet father-of-my-children is the best thing in my life.  I have many bests, but he is at the center.  I often marvel at the relationship we share.  It's loss-for-words kind of awesome.  Love you, Dusty.  Thank you for us.  Thank you for the way you make me feel.  Thank you for our beautiful family.  These kids of ours kick our butts at times, but what a wonderful journey we are having.  Thank you for being by my side and growing in our capacities together.   

My own dad was working yesterday, so we're doing his very own Father's Day next Sunday.  Lucky him.  As he said today... "I get my very own holidays all the time now!"  One of the (few) perks of working two weeks on, one week off, out of town.  My dad is pretty much a rockstar for doing this out-of-town work thing.  I'm so proud of him.  I miss him tremendously when he's gone and find myself breathing easier when he's home.  He's always been such a patient father and so validating of his children.  I've always known where I stand with him.  Love unconditional.  That's my dad. 

Tonight

Tonight I was running with Maria. 

Tonight the cloud hazed full moon was GIGANTIC(!) and stunning. 

Tonight my dinner-cooking pleased my children immensely and Rohan hugged around both of my legs until it hurt. 

Tonight my baby folded herself into my body the moment the lights went out, just as she does every night... and my heart melted, just as it does every night.

Tonight I am up too late doing nothing productive.

Tonight I washed every dish and completely cleared the table... a big deal, as this doesn't always get accomplished. 

Tonight I want to create beautiful spaces in my home, but because it's almost 1 a.m it must wait until...

Tomorrow.

Family Portraits, or Lack Thereof

I suck at getting family portraits taken.  I think my #1 reason is the fact that I am scared of picking "cute outfits".  Lamesauce. 

So, you can imagine that this article caught my eye,and I scoured it and dreamed of a cute, sassy family photo hanging in my living room. 
The last family photo (or the ONLY one??  Yes.) was taken when Rohan was 18 months old.  Yep.  That would be 4.5 years ago.  Lamesauce with meatballs.

It was sure cute, but I have another child in my family now who is almost the same age as Roh was in this pic.  WHAT??!!  Time for an upgrade, dohncha think?

Hi

Sometimes I forget I have a blog anymore. 

LAME.

So, this is me saying HI....

This pic was taken in my long-haired days, back in March for a senior project of a cousin? (I think) of my friend. She did some photo project that showed that moms can still be beautiful. It was a last minute-thrown-together-ish thing, but I thought it was fun to have a pic of myself. I don't get them very often as I am usually the one behind the camera.

THE END.
 

Flow

Self-awareness, as everything else in life, has an current, a flow. 
At times, all rapids and whirlpools, it carries me faster than I'd choose on my own and often through frightening and dangerous waters.  If I let go of my fear, the ride can be exhilerating, though I may come out crying at the end. 

As all rapids eventually find a calm, so do my own personal rivers of thought. 

Those calm places often look placid and smooth, yet upon submersion I find that the current is stronger than I realized. It is then I am faced with a choice; tread water, swim hard or relax and float and let the current carry me where it may. 

There are other times where I stand on the shore and watch the current and wonder at the hinting surface-nuances of the more powerful forces below.  I know there are things I'm not seeing or feeling because I choose to stay out of the water. 

And there are other times where I walk away from the water all together. 

But I know I'll always come back.

Friday's Fabulous Five

Remember how I made up this game a long time ago when I blabbed about fabulous things in my life?  I barely do, but I am committed to posting more for my dear, sweet dad and sister who are far away. 

Dad and Lacy, this one's for you.


1- Brynja's sweet face and her spunky personality.  Not to mention the precious peace that falls on her round cheeks in her slumber.

2- SHORT HAIR!!!!  This is the most fabulous thing EVER.  I feel like me again.  I love me with short hair.  I love the ease of it.  I love the look.  I love the spunk.  I LOVE MY SHORT HAIR! 

And I love seeing my short-haired self holding my sleeping Baby Brynja.

Brynja and I, April 14, 2011



3-Having my tax information all in order and in my accountant's hands and OUT of my hands.  YAY.  This was the latest I've EVER done my taxes and I'm so relieved that it's over.

4- Being o.k. with myself and where I'm at.  Sure there are many things that I want to change, but I am mostly in such a great place and feel so good in my own skin.  I like me.  Isn't that weird and novel?  I like this girl named Clancy.  She's a cool cat, says I.

5- Awakening minds.  Some people get excited about sports.  Some love their T.V. shows.  Some people are passionate about exercise or nutrition.  Some about reading books.  Some about art and creating things, decorating and beautifying spaces.  Me?  I like many of those things, but I thrill at expansion of human conscsiousness, mine or others.  I love to make new discoveries about myself.  I love to dig into my psyche and see what drives me to behaviors that are both desirable and not.  I love to watch the process in others and hear about their unfolding.  This is passionate stuff for me.  I love it and I'm shoutin' it to the world. 

♥Clancy

 

P.S. I feel inclined to ask if anyone would like to join me in processing?  If so, I invite you... get down and dirty with a shovel and dig into yourself.  Find out who you are.  Love you.  Become.  I dare you! 

And then tell me about it, if you wish.  I love to hear about your process, if you feel inclined to share.  ♥