Walkin' In a Timbers Wonderland

The Timbers season is starting! The Timbers season is starting!

For those of you who don't understand the gravity of my excitement, the Timbers are Portland's major league soccer team and the start of the season means some happy things:

1) We get to hang out with friends and family in the ruckus of the Timber's Army, doin' things like the 'Tetris,' which is a chant with a Portland twist, that requires thousands of people to move side to side en masse....a ridiculous amount of fun.

2) I get to focus on talented, athletic men with absurdly attractive legs for an extended period of time without Tim batting an eye.

3) It's just another opportunity for David Beckham to see me and realize that he's made a terrible mistake in marrying Posh Spice.

So bring on the season.

Timbers! Timbers!

We Can Dance If We Want To

Another year, another grand experience being in a large ballet production. Alex managed to wiggle out of the performance this year, but Tim got dragged in, so our family still made a solid showing (and my dreams of going gypsy and starting a traveling show are still very much alive).
The lights, the energy, the drama behind the scenes...in a parallel universe, I do this every day of my life. I'm sure of it.

As a side note, I have to say that Sydney overwhelms me with her grace as she grows into herself as a dancer. It's a privilege to be a part of something so encompassing and majestic with her year after year. 

Taking in the Newmark Theater

In the Wings

The Amish look is in

Backstage

We were so busy that the only photos of us together are from home taking off makeup

He Shoots, He Scores!

I tell you what, Tim won the Valentine's Day Game by a huge margin this year. An impressive display of forethought and execution. A home run, a slam dunk, a field goal and any other winning sports analogy you can insert into this sentence.

This, my friends, is what triumph looks like:

 

 Kolache is a Czech pastry that I get to eat exactly once a year, when (and if) I make it back to the little Czech community in eastern South Dakota where my father was raised and where I would visit every summer growing up. Not only did Tim get up early and make them, he made them from my late grandmother's recipe. A little piece of home. A little piece of family. A little piece of my roots.

Hands down, the best Valentine's Day gift I've ever received.

(....AAAannnnnd I'd tell you what he got in return, but we'll keep this a G rated post.....)

Karma's A.......

Teenagerdom is alive and well in our house these days and I admit that I have a new found appreciation for all the parents that haven't developed permanent facial ticks from its landmines. Sometimes I feel completely ill-equip for the job as the hoodoo curse my mom put on me as a teenager rolls around in my head....you know, the one that goes: When you grow up, I hope you have a daughter just. like. you.   (Because if she's anything close, I am so. screwed.)

Here's what I'm up against these days: Sydney's lovelier by the day. She's curvy; she's graceful; she's witty, charismatic and spunky. This combination makes me teeter between beaming pride,wanting to nurture her blossoming womanhood and doing a swat team style take down, throwing a sack over her head and whisking her off to a bomb shelter in the remoteness of Idaho.

Karma

Here is an all too typical conversation between the two of us as of late:

Sydney: Mom, can I get these shoes? (showing 4 inch black heels)
Me: Sure.
S: Really??!
Me: Absolutely. Oh, wait. You meant in this lifetime....yeah, not a chance.
S: *grumble grumble*  Fine. How about these? (showing more ridiculously high heels)
Me: I'm sorry, are you working in a strip club somewhere that I should be aware of?
S: MOM!!
Me: You're 13. Talk to me about those shoes when you're 30.
S:*grumble grumble* What about this dress? (presenting what looks like a small piece of fabric that someone forgot to sew the back into)
Me: How about a gunny sack?
S: MOM! (*rolling her big doe eyes)
Me: I'll get you one for every day of the week.
S: *grumble* *sulk*


Yeah, one word: Idaho.

A Storm to Remember

The weather we've been experiencing in the Pacific Northwest has been, shall we say, interesting. Snow, wind, rain, sunshine....it's a bit like Mother Nature's in the midst of a severe emotional crisis, swinging from one extreme mental state to another. It's been an entertaining and impressive display to be sure. One of the places that was probably best to steer clear from in the middle of her very public spectacle was the Oregon Coast with its hurricane winds and threats of flooding....so, of course, we ventured to exactly that location for Tim's birthday. We are nothing if not ridiculous.

Having said that and adding the 'don't try this at home' disclaimer,  I admit that it was one of the best trips that I have ever taken to the coast. First off,  I'm a sucker for a little cabin and a warm fire. Add Bach playing on the itunes and the rain coming in sideways, and very little can spoil my contentment. Even Tim playing his newly acquired beginning bagpipes. Which at this point, sound like the man is feverishly choking a duck. (And if you don't believe me, look at the dog's reaction in this photo. That is utter shock and bewilderment. 'Nuff said.)

Anyway, where was I?.....Ah, yes. Happiness!  As I was saying, the rain came in sideways, the wind blew hard enough to overturn cars, and the sand came alive, flying in perfect, fleeting ribbons to the sea.  In the small spans between intensities, Mother Nature gave moments of perfect calm for walking alone on long stretches of solitary beach. It was remarkable. If this is what we get for being ridiculous, I'll take it.

:

Let It Snow!

When I left Montana, I swore that I wouldn't care if I never saw snow again. I figured if I didn't have the money to ski on it several times a week, it was more trouble than it was worth. And so I left to greener pastures, literally. And I didn't miss it for years....
....and then something started creeping up on me. A nostalgia as soft as the snowflakes. And, as we've had a dusting of snow over the last few days, I've spent much of my time wandering the streets, remembering how quieting the fall of billowy flakes can be to a restless spirit; how much I enjoy the sting of chilled cheeks and the delicate crunch underfoot. The delight of standing among snowflakes as they dance and swirl to their own silent music.
Once again, I find this weather magical. Wonders never cease.

Demons Be Gone

Christmas has come and gone and I admit that we were all spoiled beyond anything any of us deserved. 'Lavished with gifts' comes to mind, but I suppose it's nice to be pampered from time to time. I feel pampered (and I am grateful to those who did the pampering. Thank you!)

Of course, the kids had their list of wishes, big and small. This year, Alex announced that he needed something practical. His word. Practical. And by practical he didn't mean underwear or socks, he meant...wait for it....holy water. Holy water. Because, according to him, you never know when you're going to need it. Which is hard to argue.

So, Alex got his practical gift.  And instead of sitting on a shelf, he's put it to practical use: ambushing and squirting every.single.person who walks into our home under the pretense that he is checking for demons. (I couldn't make this up if I tried.)

I suddenly feel like I'm living in a Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. For those of you who've stood wet and bewildered in my living room, good news! Alex assures me that he won't be needing to call an exorcist on your behalf. God knows I'll be sleeping better at night.