Searching

I feel it in my throat, my gut and it has been occupying my mind for some time. I'm searching. Trying to identify what the hole is that I need to fill. (alright you dirty minds, move onward) Sigh. So many good things in my life. I should be full. Why am I restless? Do I already know the answer? Am I scared to face it, scared to try? Hmmph, will keep you posted.

Now on to something really juicy.

Tomatoes.
My homegrown lovelies. Check out the first of the crop.



I ate it right after I snapped the picture.

And yes, it was warm and vibrant, it's sweet, pungent, lingering fragrance was like silk against my tongue.
The perfect flavor of summer.
Can't wait for the purple cherokees and the brandywines to come in next.

( Pictured L to R: Sweet 100's, Brandywine, Purple Cherokee, Stupice (the one I devoured), Seeds of Change Basil in foreground)

Late Night Tweets

No, I'm not talking about Twitter. Lately around these So. Cal. parts the birds have been singing at night. It happens every summer that I've lived here in my little 1912 craftsman bungalow. Tonight I'm up past midnight, post knit night bliss, and had so much fun with the gals that I'm not quite ready to go to sleep. Apparently, I'm not alone. Who are these happy little night birds who chirp into the early a.m.? Their soundtrack leading me to my dreams. Chirp, chirp, chirp. So friendly and sweet. I am reminded of the afternoon naps I'd take as a young girl in Texas while visiting my Grandparent's house. I'd fall to sleep listening to the song of the Whippoorwill bird.

I think my next post will feature my first crop of the season, my tomatoes! Juicy and simply delicious. If you are a tomato lover, drool on...

Adorable!

Just spotted this adorable knit lobster on PetitePurls.com via Soulemama. I have knit a couple of toys animals for my boys (two dinosaurs, a pink bunny and a cupcake). I think a lobster or two should be next on the list! I have a knit night coming up this week and this could be just the thing to start on while gossiping, guzzling wine (or beer in my case. lately wine has been making me horribly nauseous. boo.) and laughing my a** off.

Knit night is great. Once a month I get together with a bunch of really cool ladies of varied ages. This group of women, we might not have even befriended each other if it weren't for knitting, and they are the COOLEST group of ladies! We are all of varied backgrounds, life-choices, ages and we have such a great time together. The kicker is the Hubs thinks its just a harmless bunch of old folks that get together and knit.

If you are a knitter or aspire to learn, there are many established knitting groups out there. To find one in your area just go to Ravelry.com and sign up. Or locally, there is a "knit up" the first and third Sundays 3p.m. at the Whistlestop Bar in SouthPark. A great place to go and get Knit-Faced!

A Tree Fell on Me and I Walked Away

I hesitated to write this post because I know that the owner's of said tree feel SO bad about it and I really don't want them to. BUT the subject is just so random and odd and filled with luck that I couldn't resist. Forgive me.

You see, a tree fell on me last Sunday. It had been cut off to about 5 or 6 feet high and a very inviting hammock was attached to it. I joined my husband and infant on the hammock and BOOM, first the hammock collapsed. Thud! Bodies hit the ground, and a split second later a horrible, guttural yell came out of my mouth. I couldn't see anything but black. I couldn't talk, I could only gesture with my right hand. All I felt was immense weight and pain on my upper right leg and the thought running through my head was, "get this off of me as fast as you can" (unbearable).

A friend suggested I write about this on the blog because of the so many "what ifs" that didn't occur. She said, "Praise God" a couple of times when we talked about the details. And it got me thinking about the luck (or divine intervention) that took place that day. The tree landed on the top of my thigh, the thickest part of my very thin body. The trunk was about as wide as the length of my entire thigh. I am a very long legged gal and the trunk was probably about a foot and a half or so wide; it took up most of my upper leg. Had the tree landed two inches in either direction, it would've crushed my right knee or to the north, my hip. The force and weight of it was remarkable.

I mentioned the weight of the trunk. Other people that were there did too, saying that it was so heavy that couldn't lift it. My husband is the one that freed me and he must've had a rush of adrenaline. Luckily it was over quickly.
The Hubs said he rolled our baby off in the opposite direction, jumped up and pulled the weight off. He doesn't remember how heavy it was.

The What-Ifs:
I wrote them all down and just erased them.
Don't want to think of them anymore. They are too gruesome.

I just want to be thankful that it happened to me. Thankful to God, thankful to luck, thankful to nature and gravity. Thankful it was not anyone else I cared about in my place. Each day since I became an unwitting logger, I watch it grow. The purple and yellow badge that seeps it's way south across my skin reminds me daily how thankful I am. How it the outcome could have been so very different.

Photo courtesy of http://www.paintthatshitgold.com

Eeyore Birthday

Whelp, it has arrived. I am officially 36 years old today and I've been feeling low about it all week. Not because of the number or the way age affects one's appearance, I'm comfortable with the way I look; this birthday just seems like a turning point. I'm sure I am not the first person to go through this (after all it IS called a mid-life crisis), yet I can't escape the doubt that has nestled in the deeper parts of my mind. I mentioned in my earlier post about the incessant wanderlust within me. It tugs at me pretty consistently and just won't go away. Sometimes I can suppress it for years; it always creeps back up.

I chose the path of getting married to a very kind, exceptionally creative man and then helped him to create two wonderful little souls. I proudly wear the roles of wife and mother but along the way I've forgotten me. Pre-life me. The things that were very important to me before I chose to make other dear people/things more important than me.

And I'm feeling it pretty hard right now.

Thirty-six. Not so old. Not young or fresh. Still hopeful, pensive, lanky. Not a girl, a woman. Full of familial responsibilities. No career, no personal direction. Homemaker/Husband-manager. Talent unused. College degree unused.

Quite aware of how incredibly lucky it is to have the luxury of choosing to be being a stay at home mother.

Honored to have a husband whose business license states profession as "artists, performers and writers" and whose artwork pays the bills and then some.

Yet still, lurking beneath: unsatisfied. scared.

How do I begin to do things for myself, when I barely have the time to manage the family? Is that selfish to surface these wants now? I've always wanted them, I've just put them off and postponed them for so long.

This birthday has really got me in my head. That is why I am calling this birthday, the 36th, my Eeyore Birthday. It is eleven o'clock in the evening, it is almost over. Soon to pass and won't be reminded until next year.

Today I:
Went to Balboa Park and watched the clouds change shape for hours.
Ate a PB&J sandwich on the grass next to my husband.
Read.
Surrounded myself with friends and their kids and the movies "Baraka" and "The Bicycle Theives" (choices which I think freaked my friends out just a little bit, but left me pleasantly satisfied)