There’s no place like home

Back from a whirlwind trip. Inspiring, informative, exhausting. So much to think through that the words don’t come easily. Suffice it to say that I was awed by the spirit, inclusiveness and all-around smarts of hundreds of women who are building communities and affecting change by using technology. Feel lucky to be a small part of it.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, new stories are being told with prolific speed:

And the result: The Planet Book featuring Pinky Doolittle 13 and her brother Bluey 13 whose favorite food is tea with salt. Oh to have such free imagination and comfort with the blank page.

Differently the same

As I may have mentioned once or twice, arrangement of furniture is in a constant state of evolution here. The first thing my family does when they visit is go from room to room to see what’s different.

Last week, they saw the empty frame that I put up in the living room (2/22 post) and the following exchange ensued:

Sister: I have to say, I don’t see the point of the empty frame.
Mom: I was wondering about that.
Me: The point is possibility.
Sister + Mom: oh.

And that got me to thinking about familial differences. How, despite being raised in the same way by the same parents, my sisters and I differ and differ even still from our parents.

Unlike the rest of my family, I make fast decisions. I like to take risks (hence my choice of freelance career over “stable” corporate gig). I have, shall we say, a cavalier attitude toward money. I didn’t have to take a test for my line of work (no one yet has figured out how to test aptitude for writing B-S to help companies sell stuff). I thrive on change (explains the constant rearranging). I like it when things don’t match.

And just like the rest of my family, I play a wicked game of cards. Enjoy sitting at the table for hours, talking. Am highly competitive. Love the water. Can made a ripple ice cream pie.

Today, at 6 and 43, K and I both love to go out to dinner and visit the shops. We like to make things from paper, fabric, just about anything. We play crazy 8s at dinnertime. She loves sports. I prefer to sit and read. She’s a tomboy. I love pink.

And while we are both still growing and learning, K has a longer journey to the person she will become. I can’t help but wonder: how will she still be like me when she’s grown up? How will she be different?

Random musings from miss distractible

I was supposed to get up at 5:45 this morning to finish two deliverables for a big client and then go meet said client. I did get up, and then nearly fell down. Dizzy, a little sick to my stomach. I did finish the projects but I didn’t drive 1.5 hours south to the meeting even though I was all dressed up with high heels and earrings, which elicited an “oooh, la, la” from K.

Now I’m in my sweats, old sweater and fuzzy slippers. I should be …

:: writing an article about garden hardscapes

:: proofing a set of six brochures

:: creating a framework for a new client Web site and writing the copy

:: writing up invoices and estimates

:: packing for NY

:: going to the grocery store to stock up for the time I’m away and others will feed K

:: doing more laundry

Instead I am …

:: bugging Sage every few minutes on iChat

:: reading all my favorite blogs

:: thinking of things to write lists about

:: looking up words like distractible because they look wrong even when right

:: making toast and tea

:: spending way too much time deciding what pens and notebooks I should bring

:: pulling out enough reading material for two weeks, which I’ll just have to lug back

:: wondering if I should make oatmeal cookies right this very minute

:: wishing I had a better bag to tote my laptop, notebooks and pens

:: considering sewing something

Vacation-like

Today was a little day of firsts. K had her first sewing lesson, and first boat ride. After the sewing lesson, we packed up our backpacks and headed to the Larkspur Ferry, which goes straight to the amazingly-renovated 1880s San Francisco Ferry Building. We were rather giddy with the adventure of it all.

Wandering around without a plan was delicious. We found pirate and smiley-faced buttons, tie-dyed shirts (after which we had to find a bathroom so K could put on her new shirt, creating quite the color combination) and the sculpture-fountain that was the source of endless entertainment.

Lunch outside. Picking the perfect cupcakes. Watching people in zany St. Patrick’s Day hats drink green beer. Running to catch the boat back.

It was one of those days that the wonder of motherhood hit me full force. A day to cherish.

Beware the Ides of March …

… do you remember that from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar? Classic political intrigue that has stuck in my mind since college. For poor Caesar, it was the day Brutus and Cassius hatched their assassination plot. And ever since, the 15th of March has come with a sense of foreboding. What might happen?

Well, I can tell you what will happen if you don’t take the time to painstakingly check the pockets of everything that goes into the laundry basket. Your washer rattles, moans and eventually breaks. Luckily, I prevented any such disaster this Ides of March by extracting the following …

Now a broken washer is certainly not as bad as losing your head (literally). Still, it goes to show how important it is to take a little extra care on the 15th of March.

At least my shoes fit

Full-fledged panic as the realization hits that I leave for New York in a week to attend a Business Blogher conference. And I have nothing to wear. My fashionable, just possibly trendy enough for NY, clothes won’t work. They’re from the several sizes (and seasons) ago collection. Good thing I have a big coat. And killer shoes. Maybe no one will notice the in-between bits. Here’s hoping.

Come back Spring, come back

Spring sprung last Friday and by Sunday had fast-forwarded into summer. Here in Northern California, it’s been in the 80s these past two days. Before all the daffodils finished blooming, it got rather hot. And I realized two things …

I have to buy sunscreen

It’s time to shed a few — or 20 — pounds.

Nothing like a hot day to make you realize how much hotter you get when carrying around more weight than you should. Dang! I thought I had a few weeks of clever layering left.

Of course, this is likely a false start to summer and even spring. The chilly rain will likely be back yet. So we took full advantage of the balmy weather to have sandwich night. We love sandwich night for any night that it’s too hot or you’re too tired to cook. A quick stop for deli sandwiches, pickles and olives and potato chips (last time I swear!). At home, I whip up a quick salad; tonight it was fruit salad. And before you can say, “Bob’s your uncle,” dinner is served!

Ahh … that’s better

Everything back in its place. Just of couple works in progress out and ready for action. And so ends a week+ of chaos that began with the delivery of a new table, which required a bookcase to move, which meant the cookbooks needed a new home as did the ironstone collection. And that meant the living room had to be rearranged and the stereo moved from upstairs to down. Then closets were cleaned out (again) and bags sorted for Goodwill and basement.

Next up - the basement. I can only get in to the first two feet.

But first, gotta fix what’s happening to my sparkly blog. All of a sudden, I have the oddest layout. Everything strrreeetched out horizontally; distortion everywhere. I’m sure the snappy folks at wordpress will be right on it. God forbid it’s something I did! Some accidental coding or erasing or something. See, I only look like I know what I’m doing.

Stay tuned for the next riveting update.

:: Edited :: Sage tells me it looks fine to her. So it must be me; some key I hit that changed all my view settings. Urgh. I’m so ferklempt that I forgot the rest of my post … more new book goodness!

I [heart] the UPS man

You know it’s going to be a good day when a big, brown UPS truck pulls up to your house. My heart beats a little faster, wondering what is coming my way. Now usually he (or she … I love anyone who drives a UPS truck that comes to my house), is bringing me something I’ve ordered. And while my logical mind knows the box is something I will have to pay for when the VISA bill arrives, I can’t help but jump out of my chair. Yippee skippy I shout! A present for me!

Last Friday was the most extraordinary delivery day. In the space of an hour, all while on a conference call, a friend dropped by a belated birthday present; FedEx came with a box; the mailman came with another box; and then the UPS truck pulled up. What fun I had opening all those boxes.

Today, more delivery goodness. First my own copy of Writer Mama arrived. Then my copy of Simple Sewing landed on the doorstep. Added to the rest of my pile, I have quite a bit of reading to do!

And did you notice how many of my selections have the word “simple” in the title? Things that make you go hmmm.

Portrait Tuesday

Nearly every morning begins with some type of art/craft/cooking project in our household. Before showers. Before breakfast. Before making lunches. It’s a funny little habit that has evolved over the last year or so. Don’t ask me why the first thing K and I think to do in the morning is make something. The weekends are the best since there is no rush to finish. During the week, we have to stay focused and be quick.

This morning, K drew portraits of herself, her dad and me.

Cracking up about the glasses. It’s a new detail in many of her pictures. So despite the fact that her dad doesn’t wear glasses, he has them here. I do wear them but only when my contacts are bothering me. And, to my knowledge, neither of us has ever worn peace sign necklaces but they are darn snappy. I’ve never looked better really. Love the swishy skirt and svelte form. Matches what I look like in real life exactly!