a brief escape


Click on the photo to see a larger version.

This semester has been a killer, with a 5-credit Statistics course (let’s just say math is not my forte!), and an upper-level History of Women & Gender in America course that is giving me, a voracious reader with a love for history, a run for my money in keeping up with the reading. I truly didn’t ever think I could read too much, but I think I’ve hit the wall…

Add to that an extremely busy and stressful work life, a teenager who’s learning to drive (enough said!), laundry and meals and grocery shopping that, sadly, have not done themselves (no matter how much I pray!) and you can see why I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with life at the moment (and even developed an annoying eye-tic).

This week at the university is spring break, which usually means nothing to me since I work the whole time, regardless. However, this year I decided to use some of my precious annual leave and actually take a day or two to myself. Monday I spent laboring over two essay exams for the history class, and yesterday I had planned to get ahead in the readings.

But then.

Then a friend I haven’t been able to see in way too long asked me to lunch, and I accepted. On my way out the door I grabbed my camera bag on an impulse. After lunch, I just couldn’t force myself to go home, so I did what I’ve been longing to do since August: I wandered!

Up and down Blacksmith Fork Canyon I drove, stopping frequently along the way to look for signs of spring and taking pictures of whatever caught my eye: mostly dried heads of teasel which I’ve long been enamored with,  mountain tops barely covered with snow (a rarity for this time of year), sagebrush, the river, rocks… On over towards Wellsville and then along the dusty back road into Paradise, then finally out to Porcupine Reservoir.

It’s amazing how refreshing it can be to take even a few hours  to restore yourself! Today I’m feeling like I can conquer the world. Now if I can just keep that feeling  for about 6 more weeks… ;)

my first gargleblaster

Midnight—all’s silent except my pounding heart, A Rose for Her Grave discarded on the nightstand; never read true crime when home alone…

Suddenly, unmistakable sound of nails screeching, slicing through my window-screen.

What the hell?!

Sassy cat sails through the breach…

Too late to be entered in the contest grid, but I couldn’t resist this one.  Entries must be exactly 42 words, and must answer each week’s question. Can you guess what it is?

(Answer: What came through the window?)


learning to breathe…


So my plan to post several times a week seems to have stalled right out of the gate, but I promise to try and rectify that.

After such a long spell of neglecting the creative side of me, I seem to have lost my words, and I’m having a hard time relocating them. More than a lack of words, I seem to have lost my confidence, and I don’t know why…

Anyhoo… I’m really going to try and push through this (hopefully temporary) rut I find myself in and try to find my center again. I think part of it is that I have gotten so caught up in the rush-rush-rush all the time of homework, work, school, yada yada, that I have forgotten how to take time to pause, reflect, and connect with the beauty that’s all around, something which is vital for the soul, at least mine.

The photography class I just started, Kim Klassen’s “Be Still 52,” is just the thing I need to push myself in this direction. Like a divine reminder, the first week’s lesson was on the need for stillness and solitude to be able to connect with our creative side, and the photo assignment for week 2 was to shoot a subject with “breathing room.”

While it really isn’t a “still life” photo, this hummingbird spoke to me as he took a breather from his frenetic dance, resting at the feeder and taking his time to enjoy the bird version of a Starbucks chai latte, and relishing the world around him. Last Saturday I spent several hours glued to my chair at my husband’s camp-spot, enjoying the sights and sounds of the stream, all the different birds, the rock-chucks chattering… all of life’s rhythms that I’ve been too busy or distracted to notice. I would have gladly stayed there for hours more, but as always, laundry, house cleaning, and grocery shopping beckoned and I had to hurry back to the rat race!

Now that I’m remembering how good it is to just “be,” and take time to breathe, I will return…

A good friend just reminded me to remember the words of the Psalmist (46:10): “Be still, and know that I am God…” How I need that reminder!

See you soon. <3


Photo processed with Kim’s “shine” texture.

at long last…


I’m back!

These last two semesters were particularly crazy with two classes plus an internship during the fall and three classes this spring (including math, after a 26-year break… blech!), on top of family life and a full-time job. But, at long last I can finally say that I am a senior!  Only a few more (part-time) years to go… ;)

I decided to take a much-needed break from classes this summer to refresh, regroup, and reconnect with my blog and, hopefully, my creativity. A year of math and “technical” writing will drain the creative lifeblood from anyone! I’ve set a goal of at least 2 posts per week, so I hope you’ll stop back by…

To help with this, I’ve signed up for an online photography class called “Be Still” with the amazing Kim Klassen, which starts mid-May, as well as an older class she teaches called “Beyond Layers.”

Today’s picture incorporates blossoms on my crab-apple tree, Kim’s “simplicity” texture, and a quote I found online about the need for rest from Mark Buchanan, author of a book titled The Holy Wild: Trusting in the Character of God.

Oh – and I’m doing a test-run of a new blog format, so I’d love some feedback.

Can’t wait for the rest of summer! See you back here soon…


happy birthday, joshy!


My apologies to Sylvester Stallone for the shameless hijacking use of his photo!

Today I am sending out a happy birthday wish to Josh as he turns the big 28! Since you aren’t home to help me with my math homework, I didn’t have time to write a new story. Instead, I’ve revamped this older one. Oh – but I did have time to peruse the family photos for an appropriate picture. ;) Hope you enjoy it!

In honor of his day, I thought I’d blog about one of my favorite “Joshisms”: the day he rounded up one of our wayward cows, Oscar (aka “the Grouch”). I think he (Josh, that is) was about 13 or 14 at the time.

The year after we bought our home, which sits on a 2-acre lot in what can still be classified as the country, Tom thought it would be a great idea to get horses and/or cows, fondly remembering animals from his childhood. I tried to remind him that “real life” isn’t always like we remember, but to no avail. Soon after, a family from the church we were attending moved to Colorado and couldn’t take their animals with them. Happily, he scooped up their three young steers with the intent of raising them for beef. And we got them for an incredible bargain to boot. Great idea, right? In hindsight, we should have insisted that they pay US to take them off their hands, considering that Oscar was almost certainly demon-possessed!

Anyway, we spent one long, hard month rebuilding the fence and fixing the holes around our pasture before having the three “adorable” cows delivered. And they really were cute, for about the first hour or two. It soon became apparent that the smaller two were sweet and tame, but they were bullied (haha!) into following the lead of Oscar, who could rival Houdini in being able to escape any prison. I swear we spent half of our life during that time chasing the cows around our yard, around all the neighbors’ yards, and once or twice even rounding him up from the other side of town! Let me just say that it was not the best way to get to know our new neighbors… It got so bad that I didn’t ever want to come home after work because I knew what awaited me: the sight of two cows hanging out in the (unfenced) front yard, with Oscar nowhere to be seen.

One day, as Tom tells it, he came home early from work.

The house was quiet with no kids in sight, so he was relaxing in our kitchen and enjoying a pre-dinner snack when all of a sudden he saw Oscar maniacally tear past the window, eyes bulging and tongue lolling. He moved to take a closer look but immediately jumped back after seeing another maniacal blur hot on his trail, dressed head-to-toe in army fatigues, camouflage face makeup included.

“What the *#$(!*! ??” he thought to himself as he rushed out the door…

The first blur was, of course, Oscar, but the second was Josh, looking more than a little like a character out of Rambo, albeit on a smaller scale. He had come home from school to find the steers, once again, MIA. After easily rounding up the first two (their hearts weren’t really in the job), he tried repeatedly to sneak up on Oscar so he could herd him back to the pasture.  But every time the devilish beast caught sight of him, he’d take off again. They were not exactly friends at this point, and I guess that something inside Josh’s young teenage brain just snapped. He came in the house, dressed up in Tom’s Army fatigues, and covered his face in camouflage makeup. He was a man on his first-ever undercover mission!

Poor Oscar was so bewildered and freaked out by this strange creature screaming and chasing him, he ran straight past the house, actually bypassed the gate, and leaped OVER the fence back into the pasture to escape him.

Mission accomplished – HOOAH!

Josh was 9 years old when Tom and I got married. The years haven’t always been easy, and we’ve had a power struggle or two (hundred!) as he tried to adjust to life with a step-mama. Although he may not have come from my body, I couldn’t love him any more if he had.

You are definitely of my heart!  Love you Josh, and I hope your birthday’s wonderful!

the proposal

I don’t remember if it was spring or fall, but it was THE perfect day: brilliant blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and an expanse of emerald grass that, in memory, was so much softer than any I’ve felt since. We were in the small neighborhood park tucked neatly into the ravine behind the apartment my mom and I had just moved into, a definite improvement over the house with the haunted basement we’d lived in previously.

“Higher!  Push me higher!” I cried, laughing with the exhilarating joy that only flying in a swing can bring.

It was just us two: Dick, my mom’s boyfriend, and me, and I was thrilled to have him all to myself. To me, he looked just like the man on my favorite TV-show, Grizzly Adams. For being only 5-years-old, I had a mighty big crush on that man and his bear. Dick had the same wild 70’s hair, bushy beard, and the kindest, most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

I don’t know how it came about, but sometime on that idyllic “date” together, I asked a simple question:

“When are you going to be my daddy?”

It wasn’t until years later that I learned how my innocent but sincere question had almost been their undoing.

“HOW could you put her up to that?!” he had demanded, thinking she was using me to get to him.

“How could YOU think I would?!” she’d shot back.

Luckily for all of us, the matter was cleared up, and one day not long after he did become my daddy.

As with most true-life tales, the years were not always easy. There were job changes, a brother added “for me,” years when the bottle called louder than family, frequent moves, diabetes, strokes… The cute little stepdaughter evolved into a ‘tween and then a teen with a heart and mind of her own, certain that she no longer mattered like she once had.

Throught it all, he was always “my dad,” the only one I’d ever known, and I was his “daughter,” but there was a little less connection and more hurt feelings as only a teenage girl can collect. He stopped drinking my senior year and again became the husband and father we’d once known.

He walked me down the aisle – twice – never judging me for my mistakes along the way. He towed vehicle after vehicle I managed to blow up, working long hours to get me up and running yet again during my stint as a single mom. Any hard feelings I’d ever had melted away as he became the world’s absolute best grandpa to my kids and friend to my husband.

Today marks one year – 365 long days – since he left us. In some ways it feels like an eternity and in others just a moment ago.

One year since I’ve looked into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and even longer since I heard his voice, the emphatic “I love you” he always gave when it was time for me to leave, leaning forward for his hug from the recliner on good days, from his bed on the bad.

We never really talked about the hard years we’d had – each of us too hesitant to dredge up the sometimes painful past, I think – but I know without a doubt that he loved me, and I only hope he knows how much I loved him in return.

I love you, daddy. Thank you so much for accepting my long-ago proposal. Screen Shot 2013-10-07 at 8.53.11 PM

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