Snapshots

Found this in V's parents salvation army pile and said waitaminute!

I can put a mason jar on it and it'll look awesome with my collection!

so I did, then ripped out a couple of pages of an old book for the inside of the jar to soften the light

                                 

Sushi night with family

Surrounded by animals as always, love it!

The need to see the open road is a slowly growing ache. Some people call it wanderlust, some claustrophobia, I just think we are meant to keep moving. Gypsy souls taught to remain in the same place, to put down roots and a fence to keep us in place. I don’t talk much about travelling anymore, it’s not on my list of priorities because it doesn’t tug at my heart in the same way that wanting a child does, but it’s there. It keeps seeking me out and following me around like a shadow. It gives me a backache and keeps me from sleeping at night. For weeks I’ve imagined getting in my car and not stopping until the feeling goes away. I’m homesick. I long for cobblestones under my feet and the smell of seaweed in the early morning. I miss the energy of history penetrating hands run across stone walls and ancient altars. I miss the old wells and the graveyard and purple heather growing wild. I miss my sister’s sleepy eyes in our parent’s kitchen and sandy beaches for miles. I miss the horizon at my fingertips and countless airport announcements while sleeping against a backpack. Will I ever learn to stop chasing the sun? Will I ever wake from the aching, excruciating need to watch the world from a train window? Hopefully not. And if all the stars align in our favour and the gods and goddesses conspire and work their magic we might just be able to go to Sweden this summer. 

Can't wait for this

Not so easy to be sad when you get showered with the kindest supportive words and chocolates and flowers and get to spend a whole night playing ping pong and laughing until you can’t breathe and the sun is shining and the air is crisp and perfect for homemade bread and soup and sometimes the dark places seem to fade a little easier in all the light surrounding us. 

The boys

Today was the day

I woke up at the ungodly but all too familiar 4 am. Eyes wide open, today is test day. The day for which all other days are mere preparation. The two week wait is over and I finally get to pee on a stick. Or pee in a sour cream container and dip a stick in it, as it were. I wanted to wait until Venessa had to get up at 6 so we could both share the moment, whatever it may be. However I actually really had to pee and I wasn't going to waste it on not testing so instead I waited, reached for my iPhone, that killed 15 minutes. Thought about my plan of attack. How was I going to tell her? Come out of the bathroom with my face in my hands, tears is my eyes and have that moment of her not knowing whether it was good news or bad. Having the secret to myself for a few moments before letting her know. Would I fall to the floor in dramatic disbelief? Should I run out, stick in hand, and jump on her on the bed screaming like a banshee. The possibilities were endless! I imagined the two lines in my head so many times this morning. I manifested the crap outta that positive test! I was almost surprised when there was only one line. “Funny how the day just goes on like normal” Venessa said after I cried until my pillow was soaked. That pretty much sums it up, you just get out of bed, put some concealer under those swollen, red eyes and go about your day. I know it was foolish of me to think this would happen on the first try at home but I just had this feeling that maybe, just maybe it was our turn.

Until next month progesterone, you sobbing, brain foggy, will eat a whole bag of kettle corn in an episode of Modern Family, hot flashing little tart. Your presence will not be missed!

If this isn't reason to take better care of the earth and each other I don't know what is. We have this.