Homesick!

so my mr. laptop doesn't usually work, but for some reason the salty Maine air seems to have given him another chance at life. It's been a good couple of months since I perused the stuff on here, all the time I've been back from Provo, in fact, so I was much and pleasantly surprised to find a little cash pool of photos from the bygone days. and man, it makes me miss you all.
because besides the three kitter-tastics, I am all alone in the world. or at least in the state.
Hope you enjoy this (short) homage to the good old days in P-town. and for those of you who escaped under the radar, know that I miss you too, wherever you are and wherever I am not.

okay. I'm taking care of the Kittergirls in Maine for a month in this little town on the coast called Castine. It is beautiful. The quintessential new england experience. The quintessential Maine experience: lobsters, woody areas, cold ocean, LL bean.
Cell phone reception here is basically nonexistent.
Sunday afternoon-Wednesday night I am alone with the girls (ages 8,6,4) while their parents work/sleep down in Boston. Then the rest of the week I'm kind of on-call, mostly able to do my own thing.
It's Wednesday night, so I'm just coming out of one of these shifts now and I have to say, as I've said before, I don't really get how mom's do it. I'm pretty spent. sibling arguments (does it matter who got to open the garage door?!!), whining, not eating my scrambled eggs because I forgot to leave out the pepper.
my only sanity right now is Leslie coming up to spend weekends with me. Not a bad outlet to have, that's for sure, except that monstrous bus rides and never ending goodbyes on the tip of every hello carries an insanity all its own.
anyway, that's my summer. just doing it like a rockstar. okay. peace out.

Willa

sometimes I think Willa is crazy
then I remember that she's 4
then I think maybe I'm crazy, for understanding her so much of the time

naming your business in Maine

"Mainely Pottery"

"The Maine Course"

"Game Mainea"

some stuff I've been up to

well, hey. It's been a long while since I've written on the old blog. It's not that boston hasn't been plenty exciting and news worthy, just the opposite, I think. I've been just kind of doing it so much that I haven't had time for reviewing it. I could surely sum the last month and a little up by saying: I am happy and home here in my lovely Roxbury with Leslie.
This Friday I will be heading out for a short detour to Maine (to nanny for a month) and then we are going on a couple backpacking trips in CA. September I will be done with long crazy trips, cute but messy subletters, and all that jazz. Then I will be a home body once more.
Last Friday (the 4th) a squirrel broke into our house and ate some cookies and left paw prints on the counter. I thought it was funny.
Anyway, here are a few photos (of other stuff, not the culprit...sorry).
love you. EEB.

Oh ho ho...my arrival at Logan airport (with my guitar case so stuffed full of heavy stuff I could barely carry it)
Having a girlie night with Leslie and our summer subletter, Christy
(the mitts were for a "special" hand treatment, wherein you dip your hand into a vat of hot wax until you can't stand the pain anymore AKA can feel your heart beating in your hand)


Well, you know how it is... just a little foux de fa fa with the llama and a redbean/icecream sandwich fish
Hiking Mt Watchusett with some buds and Les on top of the mountain posing like the superhero she is


The source of my power
(don't worry mom, not real. not my wrist.)

Pics from Leslie's birthday
(a close look should reveal that our home now includes a cotton candy maker and lots of dehydrated camping corn)

love eebs
(with some help from the Kittergirls)

The Soul selects her own Society--
Then--shuts the Door--
To her divine Majority--Present no more--

Unmoved--she notes the Chariots--pausing--
At her low Gate--
Unmoved--an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat--

I've known her--from an ample nation--
Choose One--
Then--close the Valves of her attention--
Like Stone.

Hello Boston

good night ladies
good night ladies
good night ladies

I'm going to leave you now

and again

somehow Jeff and I have become the family kiddie birthday entertainment. but what are you going to do? we're just so cute.

Belly up, belly up to the bar boys

Andrew says every musical has a brothel scene and it makes him really mad. No matter what the musical is about, when act two starts, the curtains open and BOOM: we're in can can skirts, singing something uncomfortably ridden with innuendo

This is not a brothel scene. this is my last two weeks in Provo. It's a weird transition, to start missing what I have. anticipating what I've been missing. I don't think my brain really knows what to do with it. my heart always seems to know what to do. but may or may not share that information with the rest of me.


I'm grateful for brothel scenes. Or I guess I mean, I like Debbie Reynolds' raspy voice.

Not to toot my own horn...but

I'm looking pretty fierce today

Happy Mom's Day, mom

owies

don't know what's been up lately, but I keep getting hurt.
my poor left hand alone has suffered a whole range of injuries in the last few weeks:
kitchen knife to the thumb
key slash to the palm (mandy trying to defend herself)
some more slices to the thumb thanks to my cracked flat iron
series of slices to the pointer finger from raw ends of my guitar strings

a few nights ago I took a hard knee to the quads (basketball) that left me limping.
last night andrew and I were trying to reenact the break dancing scene from the end of Ocean's 13 and I landed my hip full force on a bar in our couch I didn't know was there. it knocked the wind out of me and today I have this mini-me hip on my hip.

I guess it's a little kid urge in me to display my wounds to everyone and ask for sympathy.
Today teaching kindergarten during our 5 minute "talking time" I asked the kids to tell me about their worst owies. It was great. everyone kid had a story.

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleeding
From kissin you goodbye
From kissin you goodbye every night

My sheets are tearin
From sleepin in too long
From sleepin in too long with you

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My head is where
It's always been
If only I knew where

My feet can't stand
their ground no more
It seems that I don't care

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleedin
From kissin you goodbye
From kissin you goodbye every night

My heart is poundin
yes yes yes
My mind just second guess
My love is so
articulate
But I am such a mess

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleedin
From kissin you good night
Oh kissin you goodbye
It's all that I do

My sheets are tearin
From sleepin in too long
From sleepin in too long with you

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

(Sondre Lerche)

ERIN

clumsy, curious
Relative of sturdy pioneer women, stalwart Florences and stormy Becks
Lover of kiddie space pajamas, white, bowie
Who feels it all (I feel it all)
Who gives strange mementos; unsolicited advice; love tokens: rocks & leaves
Who fears jr high students, eternity, 4 am
Who longs to see pyramids, squids, temples, new lands, strange fish, you by my side
Resident of everywhere. nowhere. not sure

BECK

The Shapes of Leaves
by Arthur Sze
Ginkgo, cottonwood, pin oak, sweet gum, tulip tree: our emotions resemble leaves and alive to their shapes we are nourished. Have you felt the expanse and contours of grief along the edges of a big Norway maple? Have you winced at the orange flare searing the curves of a curling dogwood? I have seen from the air logged islands, each with a network of branching gravel roads, and felt a moment of pure anger, aspen gold. I have seen sandhill cranes moving in an open field, a single white whooping crane in the flock. And I have traveled along the contours of leaves that have no name. Here where the air is wet and the light is cool, I feel what others are thinking and do not speak, I know pleasure in the veins of a sugar maple, I am living at the edge of a new leaf.

AWOL

man I'm sorry. I've been a little bit distracted.

what more can I say

sub sub subbing along at the bottom of the beautiful briney, slippery shiny, beautiful briney sea!!

hello friends and fellow bloggers. today I am writing from Mr. Cox's high school geometry class. substituting is a funny job. a lot of power that I don't necessarily feel responsible enough to handle.
subbing is a moral dilemma.
when I'm strict I feel like I'm betraying my younger self. I feel as though if she saw me now she would shake her head and spit her gum out at my shoes.
when I'm totally lax my sense of duty kicks me in the pants "they're not paying you to be a bum. show some kaputz!"

you'd think I could just middle ground it, but it's a hard line to walk when working with high school kids.
add to it that I think public education in general is dum. D-U-M. dum. I know that not everyone can educate their own kids. not all kids can educate themselves. there has to be some kind factory line to send the kids down. mass education. but I don't know, is this really the best we've got? there is so much busy work. there is so much silliness. I sat through years of it and didn't retain anything. what a waste. I could have been tending sheep. apprentice to a shepherd. be doing something with my life

this ship has sailed

I just found an old mission friend on facebook. we were good friends on the mission and saw each other a few times afterwards. It's been a while since we've talked and now I see that he's married. I keep seeing these guys lately. that are married. that I thought about giving a chance to and didn't. friends I flirted with, that flirted with me. who knows if it would have worked out with them, but I still feel some regret. A little worry I may be screwing up all my chances.
I've been telling people I wasn't interested in getting married since I was a little girl. that's half of the truth. the other half is more complicated. It involves a whole bunch of weird relationships, crushes, wishes, narrow escapes. It involves wanting to give my brothers a brother-in-law to play video games with. wanting to even out this female heavy family. It involves wishing I could just make what I have work.
some days I feel pretty optimistic about the situation. I go charging out like I'm leading a battalion on my horse. I flirt. I tweak out dates. I garner referrals. But it never takes long before I'm charging back the other direction. retreat! get the heck out of there.
I used to tell myself I could marry the Charles river. he's very attractive. fun during the day, romantic at night. you know the type. I don't know though. I don't think he'd be the best brother in law. at family functions he'd stand off by himself. get the wii all wet.

our moab race

this saturday mom and andrew and I went to moab for the canyonlands 1/2 marathon. in case the photos don't give it away, it was the most awesome, inspiring scenery I have ever run through. the first 11 miles were in Hall Canyon, running right alongside the river, with red rock towering over us. the weather was ideal--a little too cold in the morning while we stood around freezing waiting for the start, but besides that warmish, cloudy so we didn't have to battle the sun, which only popped out just after I finished racing.
mom and andrew did the 5 mile race, where andrew made awesome time and mom came in 8th in her age category!

I love racing. I love my pre-race grouchies and obsessions over what I eat. I love the middle of the race where my mind zens it, running in and out of other people's conversations, feeling completely free. the last mile or so where I become aware of how tired I am and I want to die. the final sprint with someone cheering me on. scarfing down bananas and rolls and whatever they've got at the post-race spread. battling lines to check my actual time. that crazy endorphin high. my sleep last night. my achy knees today. I love it!!!! I love it all.

I feel alive. really cool. and happy. who's up for battling the boston marathon next april? I've got a futon you can sleep on.

10 things I prefer

[snobby cats
watching people eat their boogers
a papercut
discovering a typo after you've printed off the final draft (on good paper)
chapped lips with ne'er a chapstick in sight
artificially induced wedgies
regular wedgies
when the roof of your mouth goes raw from too many bowls of sugar cereal in a row
a herd of deranged, rabid wildebeests
mail that won't come]

to teaching jr high

a little early a little late

this happy baby Charlotte was born last week. two weeks early, but not a second too soon (for me anyway).

Congratulations Jeff and Nicole. I love you

Happy 3-year Anniversary

to me.
3 years ago today I got home from the mish. what a trip. It feels like someone else's lifetime. like stories someone has told me so many times I can tell them like they happened to me. but they didn't.
Tonight Andrew told the family stories about his mission, which of course sparked stories in me. Stories I didn't know I had. they just sprang out of me: Spring!
People I have loved and almost forgotten. Or some I will never forget. As buried as they may be, they surface. time and again.
I have been good. and bad. I have been so many things since my mission. But I am happy today, that I am on the road to being the woman my missionary self would have admired. I'm happy to find that the gospel of Jesus Christ has so much depth, even in the simple things. That faith and forgiveness. Redemption. all have expanded meaning for me compared to then, even at that spiritual peak.
I hope that when I'm 85 (oh for goodness sake, if I'm not dead yet!) I can wish myself a happy 60th anniversary from some even loftier vantage point. Sana. Sa awa ng diyos.

5 reasons to fall in love

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happy valentines

oh man, what was I thinking

so, I have finally found some employment, in the form of substitute teaching. Last Friday was my first time and I got to work as a substitute librarian. Pretty nice, albeit a little on the quiet side. HA! the thought that I ever complained about that makes me laugh like a prima donna, first lady of the hour.
BECAUSE, today I substituted for jr high history and it wasn't quiet anymore. It was pretty much full-on insanity. just like the movies--teacher leaves; cut to the sub, head down on her desk in despair while ADD ridden cretins run around the room yelling. At lunch (30 min.) it was all I could do to sit there dumbstruck after the bell rang and the last hellion had filed out of the class. I think I sent out a few distress signals.
help me. I've been swallowed by a whale. a pre-teen whale.
I've always been a teacher that didn't have a firm grasp on discipline. I remember now, that would sometimes frustrate me with my missionaries and with my anatomy students. But this is on a totally different level. this is nuts.
I'd say 50 bucks isn't worth a day of this strange hell. but I already had to put so much money upfront (14 bucks for my TB test; 15 bucks to run my fingerprints), plus my pride/desire to be master of all I see. I mean, here I am handed a weakness on a silver platter. shouldn't I make a go at making it a strength? but I may die trying. Really. I may die.

Dog love

I dream about Frank several times a week. and I have a theory that he is in all of my dreams. just not always in an obvious way. Sitting there in a dream corner, he's the rug or part of the light fixture.
sometimes the dream is all about him--dying all over again, or barking away faceless trouble just outside my door.
Or else being cute and warm on my bed when we've both just woken up. fat belly up, hair guinea-pig-matted from sleep
sometimes I am aware of him in the background--being walked, or crouching down on his front paws, taking note of the crazy dream-play going by.
It's been 3 years. do you think I'll ever shake him

old friends

I'd prefer you as a memory, a point of interest on my travelogue.
wouldn't we like it distant and always perfect? You can remember me hazy. a photograph from the forties, blurred until we are beautiful. I'll make you a mood. those new boots in Winter. the night's thrill of crunching snow.
We could be a poem. clean, concise, efficient. leave out the vulgarity of insignificant details: your bathrobe on the floor; the hair on this carpet

Does Amanda Bynes have ears?

something fishy is going on.