Me

I like fireflies

and the feel of the sand rushing between my toes on the back of a receding wave.

I am a dreamer.

I question words.

I place blind faith in the cinematic masterpieces of the human heart.

I am not black or white.

I drench myself in gray, the sticky gray of duct tape left too long on the dashboard and

the serene gray pools of clay from which I rise like a phoenix, burning.  I am the light uplifting gray of a billowy cloud lit from within...by fireflies.

I take my heaven with cream and sugar in the here and now.

Heaven is my son spinning round and laughing as we splash on an empty beach.

Heaven is the sparkle in his eye.

Heaven is the smile on the Dalai Lama's face in that photograph I can't forget.

I like fireflies and the scent of moonflowers.

I am a dreamer.

I am humbled by love and grace.

I am an outsider.

My peace is knowing my song.

My peace also comes in the stillness while listening for your song, longing for the symphony.
Interrupted by thunder clasps and rain dancing on metal roofs, the melody unfolds.
It's the swallow's song and the whistle of the wind through the leaves.
Heaven is the song that surrounds our days.
I like fireflies and the sweet smell of moonflowers and sand rushing between my toes;

Cool water over my feet, the song of the ocean in a seashell and the sparkle in His eyes.

Hooray for 4-H Camp!

I am so looking forward to camp...even though prepartation has had its moments. I've had no wake-me-up-in-a-cold-sweat  pre-camp dreams this year. What a blessing. Maybe its that I've been too busy worrying about so much else. I am looking forward to helping a few kids chase dreams, looking out for the I feel so accomplished, I can't help but SMILE smiles, and just enjoying the 4-H moments.

This picture shows two of my favorite camp ladies, Megan and Lauren, who help me smile when days are tough.

Find a camp. I love 4-H camp, but any camp will do. Volunteer. Make a difference. Send your kids. Send someone else's kids. Watch them grow. Camp is wonderful. Camp = no regrets.

Peace and love, Krista

Memorial Day

On Memorial Day I pull out a now 65 year old poem that my grandmother wrote to my grandfather while he was overseas in WWII. It's handwritten on old war-time airmail paper, and something about the lightness of the paper and the beauty of her words just wraps me tight in their love story. I thought I might share it, but I am really not ready to let this one go.
My grandfather died in 1992. I miss him so.

Today's book

Shame, the belief that God regrets creating you, is like a weather pattern that descends upon a mountain. I once believed I was the weather. Turns out, I'm the mountain. -Ian Morgan Cron, Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir...of Sorts.

What a great read. But now, I need something new. I just got this book today.
Thinking about a kindle or a nook, but wondering if the breaks in between book arrivals or the mad dashes into BN might be necessary for adequate sleep and sanity. I can't quite imagine myself with such easy access. I could be dangerous.

Yeah, she loves him like that...

...and so do I.

New glasses

My new glasses arrived in the mail today.
I can see clearly. It isn't that the prescription changed. I am hard on things. The old ones are scratched, blurry.
I put the new ones on and the world came into focus.
I often wonder what it might be like to try on "new glasses" for the soul.
What would that be like?
How might my blurry world change?
Sometimes I find myself hanging onto the scratched up, blurry pair--the ones that should have been tossed with last week's garbage.
Why do I do that?
I wonder what I might be missing. What is soft that should be crisp? What is hazy that should be brilliant?
hmmm... it's like contemplating inaudible melodies.
Time to relax. Everyone is sleeping, including the dogs...and hopefully they mosquitos. I'm going to find the red wine, and then wear the new glasses to watch the fireflies dance.
Peace and love, Krista

Just another magic Monday

It suddenly hit me today that I'm doing better at dealing with stress. I am laughing more.
Noah woke up screaming in pain over the volcano that was about to erupt in his mouth. Just behind the last molar, the smoking volcano lurked ready to spew forth pus or a tooth, but I couldn't tell which...so I sent him to school on ibuprophen with a note that said it was okay to give him another dose in the event I couldn't set up a dental appointment...and I went to work as usual...and didn't feel too bad about it.
I made the appointment. He has the best dentist anywhere. We've always been able to get in to see him, there has never, ever been a wait...not even for 5 minutes...even when I am 20 minutes early. I digress...
At work we have 50 million things going on. I could list them all out, but I don't have time for that...but there are 50 million things and now I have to leave early to get Noah to the volcanologist. And you'll never guess what happens...My bra breaks...and it is not just a little strappy problem, but the whole thing just splits in half...well in half on one side! So I have to go out to my car and rummage for a sweater on the most beautiful day yet. I actually was pretty certain I'd find another bra in there--you should see my car--but I came up empty handed. So I had to put on an extra sweater. Mondays make me smile.
I stopped home to change before I picked up Noah.  When I left the house, D. was trying to screw our cabinet/shelving system back into the wall in the kitchen because the whole thing was about to just fall off. I had the presence of mind to remove my favorite bowl from the loaded shelves before I left. I told him he could prop it up with a 2" x 4". I really wouldn't mind.
The dental appointment was smooth sailing. Dr. Huey and his office are wonderful. We are waiting on a 12 year old molar. Back at the office Jackie and I had been wondering if it was an early wisdom tooth. Shows how much I know.
Noah and I went back to the office. We had a 4-H meeting tonight. That's when Noah discovered the skink stuck on a glue trap that had been left for cockroaches. I freaked. It was still alive. I almost cried. Noah was determined to save it. It looked so pointless. My heart was racing. He just wanted it to be free before it died. He carefully lifted each tiny part, covering the glue with paper as he went along to keep it from re-sticking. It took a very long time. 'Lucky' is recuperating with us at home. Noah wants to make sure he is fit to take care of himself. We've raised alota lizards.  I love my boy. I am proud of him. He helped me make it through Monday, and that is a blessing all by itself. -Peace and Love, Krista