the yogini cowgirl

a bi-weekly cook-off ... of sorts

031412.  Stracciatella soup.  Sopa de ajo.  Eggplant involtini.  Cauliflower risotto.  Sourdough pancakes.  Asiago and olive bread.  Refried bean tacos.  Avocado salad.  Apple sharlotka.  Shakshuka over homemade polenta.  Sourdough pizza with 5-minute cherry tomato sauce.

All from scratch.

All from our kitchen.

All in the last eight weeks.

And that’s only to name a few.

You see, the Cowboy and I started a new project.

We have all these cookbooks.

And some of them are amazing.

Like John Besh’s Our Family Table.

And Diana Kennedy’s The Essential Cuisines of Mexico.

And the thing is … with the ease of the internet for recipes … we hardly use them.

Which is crazy.

So we decided early this year that two days a week we’d take recipes from these great books and give them a test run.

Exactly as they appear in the books.

Because we both have a tendency to “tweak” recipes even before we try them.

Some of them have been wildly successful.

Like the Sopa de Ajo from Tartine Bread by Chad Robertson.

Which has worked its way into our biweekly rotation … any time we have enough leftover bread.

Others needed tweaking for our taste buds …  like the Eggplant involtini, also from Tartine Bread.  It just had too much “lemon” for me.  And I didn’t love the pan-fried eggplant.  Next time, I’ll just use lemon zest and bake the eggplant instead of fry it.  And I might use fewer breadcrumbs.  And maybe add some cooked quinoa into the stuffing.  So much fun to be had!

So now I’m going to start documenting some of these culinary experiments … especially if it gives me an excuse to watch the Cowboy and the LO do magic together.

Sat Nam,

YC

 

 

another meditative thought for a Monday ...

082211.  I thought about not blogging today.

I thought about just unplugging and unhooking and un-communicating.

I even thought about un-meditating today.

And then I thought I might come undone.

Which wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Not me.

Not the LO or the OLO.

Not the superMom or the Gram.

You see, on Saturday, we got a call that Gram’s health had taken a turn for the worse.

And the sisters (my mom and her three sisters) had to sign a DNR (also known as a “Do Not Resuscitate” order) and the world seemed like it was closing in pretty fast.

We made a quick decision …

And the first flight we (me, the LO and the superStepDad) could get (for under $1,200 a piece) was Sunday … out of Salt Lake City, UT … which is a 7-hour drive from Bozeman.

SIDEBAR:  An interesting thing about living in Bozeman is that the airport is small enough that there aren’t always flights when you need or want them … which is a way different experience than living in Los Angeles, from whence one can get to and from anywhere anytime.

So …

Drop the dogs at the kennel.

Get the oil changed and the car washed.

Pack clothes.

Pack a lunch.

Stop at the bank.

Stop at the post office.

And away we go.

We were on the road by noon.

First by car.

Then by bus (from longterm parking).

Then by plane (one layover in Phoenix).

And by train (to rental car station).

Then by car again.

And at 1 am this morning, we pulled into the driveway of Gram’s house (also the home of my Aunt Eileen and Uncle Phil).

Tired.

Hungry.

A huddled mass.

So here we are.

Waiting for the LO to wake up so we can get to the hospital … where things are looking brighter today than they were on Saturday (thanks to all the prayers and all the hard work by the doctors and nurses caring for Gram).

In a house with my Aunt, Uncle, my other Aunt and Uncle (Donna and Doug), my parents and the LO.

Who all think I’m a little eccentric with the yoga and meditation and “new agey mumbo jumbo” :).

So, yes, I considered not taking a few minutes to meditate today.

Especially because the house was buzzing by the time I woke up.  Seven adults taking showers, eating breakfast, drinking coffee, chatting about the plan for the day, etc., doesn't generally make for a meditative space.

It wasn’t like I had half an hour to myself in a quiet place. 

But then it was my turn to shower and I had just a few moments alone … I realized that the things I do for my Sadhana (conscious breathing, meditating, yoga, reading) are what make it possible for me to handle the travel snafus … the tricky situations … the news that isn’t easy to hear or process.  Even if all I do is breathe consciously for 3 minutes, I know that when the flight attendant gets angry that a 2 year old would rather sit on her mother’s lap during landing than be buckled in a window seat that’s too big for her as the plane hurdles toward the ground, I don’t have to judge it.  I don’t have to get mad at it.  I can just breathe through it and recognize that it’s a temporary moment … like every other moment … and I’d like to make the best of all of them.

So pardon me, while I go breathe.

Sat Nam,

YC

 

 

by the way ...

082011b. ... I did make those Chocolate Strawberry Shortcakes.

It was Monday.

My superMom had just left for New Jersey.

And the LO and I needed a pick-me-up because at least one of us was sad.

But instead of strawberries (which, unless they are organic, are one of the most pesticide-ridden fruits available these days and I couldn’t find organic ones in the market), I used fresh-picked raspberries from last Saturday’s sojourn to Rocky Creek Farm with the LO and the superRents.

… And unsweetened chocolate (because that’s what I had in the cupboard)

… and frozen unsalted butter (because I didn’t have enough salted butter in the fridge or freezer … which was very surprising)

… and I added a touch more salt (because of the unsalted butter-thing).

Seriously.

Staggering.

And I think taking the butter straight from the freezer was exACtly the right thing to do as it made the shortcakes flakey and moist and luscious even without the Chantilly cream and berries.

And I’ve been thinking about making some sort of peanut butter (or almond or hazelnut butter) cream to make a short of chocolatey-nut-buttery-tasty fall-tasting dessert for when fresh berries are hard to come by because I don’t want to go too long without having these treats in my life again.

One thing, though … I realized I just might not be cut out to be a food-stylist-photographer.

And if I could get the photos to download from my dying camera, I would post one to prove it.

Sat Nam,

YC

 

just another simple dreamsically Saturday?

082011.  The visit from my superParents was interrupted last week when my grandmother (who happens to be 91 and 1/2 years old) had a heart attack on Sunday and the superMom had to rush home to New Jersey to be with her.

And Gram … the original superDuperMom … is finally stable, finally out of ICU, and … after a roller-coaster week … it finally seems the doctors are figuring out a good plan of action for her care.

The superStepDad’s been quite the trooper … hanging out in the Cottage with me and the LO … house-hunting (we are still hopeful about our Dream House, but our realtor recommended we look at a few more places … which we did … and which just don’t compare, but good to have seen them) … and golfing it up at the Cottonwood Course just outside of town.  He even put up with a pizza-party-movie-night for 2-year-olds.  Have I mentioned that the SSD is a good guy?

And on top of it all, the LO had her 2^nd ballet lesson … which went way better than her first (maybe I'll tell you about it one day ... but it was pretty traumatic) … and she made huge strides in our potty-training efforts (while giving me new ideas about how to help her along in the process).

So it’s been a week.

And I’m very thankful that another simple Saturday is upon us.

Not only am I thankful that it’s a weekend during which we have very few plans … but it also happens to be the Cowboy’s birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, COWBOY!!!

And even though he’s not here, we’re going to celebrate that he’s in our lives by preparing for his arrival (counting down … he’ll be home in 2 days time for visit … a short visit … but a visit, nonetheless!).

We have presents to make.

A party to plan (If you're in town, you're invited).

And cupcakes to bake.

You see … the Cowboy LOVE LOVE LOVES Dreamsicle cakes.

They remind him of his childhood.

And they make him happy.

And based on some of my online searching, are some of the most unhealthy and “fake” cakes in the world (most of the recipes I’ve seen call for orange jello and boxed orange cake mix …which sort of takes the fun out of baking for me).

So I’ve got some work to do this simple Saturday.

I’ve got to figure out a version of the cake that I’m not afraid to give to the LO and her friends … and one that still satisfies that craving for sense-memory.

So this is where I’m starting …

 

 

which is a recipe adapted from this one …

which was adapted from a combo of Martha Stewart’s CUPCAKES book and one from this blog …

Wish me luck … and if you have room in your prayers, please remember my Gram … she needs them, and my mom and her sisters need them, and I'd appreciate them.

Sat Nam,

YC

 

 

simply grateful on a simple Saturday ... during which there is a full moon

081311.  Because I get these updates once a month and you might not, here’s the full moon forecast from Powerpath and the School of Shamanism:

“The full moon is Saturday, August 13 at 12:58 PM Mountain Daylight Time. This is a day for gratitude, gratitude and more gratitude. This may be challenging if you are in a place of being challenged. Trust that gratitude is the best antidote for feeling small, limited, insignificant and irritated. There are heavy influences now that are bringing out aggressive behaviors and reactionary activity in others. You yourself may be feeling a bit off and not know why. Don't take anything personally and spend some time in awareness exercises and being present. Make yourself energetically available to something wonderful landing in your lap without planning, effort or obsession. In this way you move your attention away from what might be wrong and towards what you are creating that is right. And stay away from those who do not support you.”

Click HERE for more info.

And so I take an opportunity to be grateful.

Grateful for the life the Cowboy and I are building for the LO and the OLO here in the Big Sky State... even if it means we have to be apart more right now that either one of us wants.

Grateful that the SuperRents (superMom and superStepDad) are visiting and spent their week helping me get the Cottage in fighting shape.  The cleaning, de-cluttering and photos are done as it goes on the market this weekend.  And I’m grateful for that!

I’m grateful that during another sleep-free night, I discovered it’s raspberry picking time at the local Rocky Creek Farm.  (It started 9 days ago, so in addition to being grateful, I’m also going to be hopeful there are still a few berries left to pick!) 

In keeping with my newly established simple Saturday theme, this morning I’m going to convince the SM and SSD to join the LO and I for a berry-picking-adventure (just $4/lb!) ... the LO likes berries. 

(photo taken EXACTLY one year and 10 days ago ... after an encounter with a bowl of mulberries ... which means it's mulberry season in Los Angeles ... so if you're in LA ... look for them at the farmer's market.  There is no better berry!) 

I’m grateful for so many things these days … family, old friends, new friends, health, happiness, horses, yoga, meditation, books (even in the age of the kindle), bikes, baths.

And I’m super thankful that my heart is open to new people and new experiences.  May it always be so.

 

the harsh reality about an honest truth ...

081211.  The following poem was silk-screened onto a piece of muslin covered with pink and blue happy faces and hung on the closet wall of the room I shared with my sisters from the time I was about 2 until I left for college:

Begin the day with friendliness,

Keep friendly all day long,

Keep in your soul a friendly thought -

In your heart a friendly song,

Have in your mind a word of cheer,

For all who come your way,

And they will greet you too, in turn -

And wish you a happy day. - Anonymous

Isn't it great?

It was a gift from one of the nuns at St. Mary's.

I loved this canvas.

I loved this poem.

I started every day with this poem.

But I don't have the canvas any more.  

I did have it.  

Until about 10 years ago.  

When it was "appropriated" from a box of my treasures by my First Sergeant Sis. 

 And until yesterday, I was a little more than peeved that she had taken it.

But the SuperMom is visiting to help me prepare the Cottage for a new occupant, and the subject came up.

Me:  You know that canvas with the poem on it … with the happy faces and that poem ... You know ... the one about being friendly and having a friendly attitude and all that?

SM:  You mean the one Sister Josephine gave to your sister?

Me:  ????!!!!!???

SM:  What?

Me:  ????!!!!!???

SM:  Not the answer you wanted?

Me:  Hmph.

Regardless of who owns it … it’s a good poem. 

I learned to read with that poem. 

And its lesson informed a lot of who I am and how I wake up and face each day.

So … Thanks, Sister Josephine, for liking my FSS better than me.

 

I need these in my life ...

080911.   I saw this on the Tasty Kitchen Blog yesterday.

And I woke up wanting one. 

I’ll let you know how it goes.

 

a meditative thought for Monday ...

080811.   It’s Monday.

By coincidence, I had another doctor appointment this morning (not unlike my last three appointments).

Once again, I was scheduled for a test (this time a glucose tolerance blood test to see if I'm developing gestational diabetes) …

And once again …

The technician who was supposed to perform that test was not in the office today (an unexpected family funeral).

So … what I am beginning to recognize from these repeat experiences is:

"One must be able to let things happen." - C.G. Jung

(non-sequitur photo of some gunslinging ballerinas ...)

The thing is …

We prepare, plan and presume.

We schedule.  

Manipulate.  

Coerce.  

Compel.  

But when we try to control everything in our lives (as so many of us do), we actually stifle any real creative life force from becoming part of our experience. We spend so much time forcing the piece of clay that is our lives into this shape or that, we sometimes lose sight or awareness that the clay has it's own life-force ... and working with the clay, rather than against it, is more likely to produce a more beautiful piece of art.

And so today ... the Universe is showing me to let go of all those plans and preparations and presumptions ... to just live.

And once again ... I am thankful for my meditation practice ... because without it, my blood pressure would have been higher than 100 over 40.

 

what's so simple about Saturday ... ?

080611.  First off, let me say, two Saturdays ago I said I was going to start limiting my tech time.

Yeah.

And then I downloaded the twitter app to my iPhone.

So.

Um.

Yeah.

That went well.

On the upside, I did leave my phone in the car when I went to the park.

And I did turn off the ringer at night so I didn’t wake up every time a new message came in.

And on most days I only checked emails twice a day.

So … overall … even though twitter wins … I’m making an effort.

I’ll just have to keep going.

Now for this Saturday:

Which turns out, isn’t going to be that simple.

Because there’s a LOT to do before the SuperMom and SuperStepDad arrive tomorrow (coming for a 3-week visit to help me get ready for the OLO’s arrival) – like washing sheets and vacuuming, planting shrubs in the garden …

… But more importantly, there’s a Sweet Pea Festival in town, and we just can’t miss the Pre-Parade Children’s 1k Race, the Parade, the Cajun Zydeco band, the Arts and Crafts Center, the Flower Tent, or the Dance Show.

(photo from the Sweet Pea Festival Facebook page)

So … it might not be simple … but we’re up for it.

 

pictures really do say a 1000 words ...

080511.  I sent this picture to the Cowboy after our day at the park today

And he called me …

Immediately …

He was a little upset. 

This is an abbreviated and very rough estimation of our conversation:

Cowboy:  “When did the LO become a teenager?”

Me: “Isn’t she adorable with Elijah? I just love the two of them together.”

Cowboy:  “Seriously.  She has to stop growing up so fast while I’m not there.”

Me:  “She loves him.”

Cowboy:  “I’m going to come home for a few days.”

Me:  “Really?  Woohoo!”

Cowboy:  “Okay.  Well.  Make sure she’s stays the same until I get there,”  (in 17 days … which is way better than the 30 we thought we were going to have to wait to see him.)

He may remember this conversation differently ... but if pictures of his baby with a boy get him on a plane ... I'm going to start sending him more!

 

 

my timeline is MY timeline ... and that's sometimes a bummer

080411.  What would be awesome  is if the owners of “the house” that we love were on the same timeline as I am.

Because … “when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life [there], you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” (When Harry Met Sally … he could have been talking about this house.)

You see … the owners of “the house” are in the middle of their summer.

Vacations.

Travel.

Family.

They’re on the East Coast … laughing it up … having a lovely time.

And as much as they want to sell "the house," they also seem to want to just be on vacation.

Which is awesome.

For them.

I totally get it.

I’m here … in Montana … also in the middle of my summer.

More of a "stay-cation" than "vacation."

But my summer isn’t a bikini-clad clambake or crab-fest on the Maryland Eastern Shore. (I don’t know if theirs is either … but I’ve created a life for them that rivals that of the elite class in a Whit Stillman movie … sipping gin & tonics on a yacht, with men in dock shoes and white pants.)

My summer is about getting more and more pregnant every day (is it possible to be more pregnant than just being pregnant?  I don’t know … but I can see fewer toes each morning).

My summer is about County Fairs.

And hoola-hooping in the park.  (Okay, so my mid-section isn’t allowing hoola-hooping these days, but there are a LOT of little ones in our park who are hoola-hooping … including the LO … and one day I’ll remember to bring my camera.)

And going to the “beach.”

Backyard barbecues.

Nesting.

And wanting to be settled in a new house at least a month before OLO arrives.

Which means, I want to be settled by mid-September.

And it’s now nearly mid-August.

And we’re still waiting to get the okay to have an appraisal and inspection done before writing an offer (because of some water damage that needs to be checked).

So … I just have to wrap my head around things taking longer than I hoped … and life working out the way it should …

Happy Thursday!

 

sleepless nights make for short short mornings and lots more dirty dishes ...

080211.  I miss sleeping in the middle of the night.

I’ve been a pretty early riser for my adult life.

And I have often spent the early morning hours meditating, exercising, reading … basically just having some “me” time.

Usually sometime between the hours of 4:30 and 7 am.

Which, I realize, is early.

But it’s such a good time.

I wake up.

I have my yoga and meditation practice… my “Sadhana.”

I make some tea.

Read a little.

Write a little.

And I’ll have leftover time to do the dishes in the sink that I left from dinner last night.

I’ll have time to pick up the toys that were left scattered in the living room.

I might even have a moment to mop the kitchen floor.

It’s really a blissful time.

But it also means I am usually asleep between the hours of 1:30 and 4:30 am.

Which I’m convinced is when the real sleep happens.

The good sleep.

The sleep that keeps me sane.

And happy.

And focused.

When I was pregnant with the LO …

I don’t remember not sleeping when I was pregnant with the LO. 

In fact, I remember sleeping all the time. 

Like … I would get home from work at 8 or 8:30 pm and be asleep 30 minutes later … until it was time to get up at 6 am to take Henry for his morning hike and my own Sadhana. 

It was 10-11 hours of blissful, restful, joyful, awesome sleep.

And that didn't include the nap I'd take at lunch on the extremely small sofa in my office.

And now that I have a 2 year-old running around … I really want that good sleep.

I need that good sleep.

And yet.

Here I am.

At 2:08 am on a Tuesday.

Sitting at my computer.

Typing a blog.

About how much I’m not sleeping.

Because if I don’t type it now, I won’t have time to type it when I wake up in the morning.

I’ll climb back into bed when I’m done with this.

Close my eyes and hope to find sleep.

At 7:30 or 8, I’ll wake up.

Feel that rush of adrenaline like I’m late for work or I’m missing a final exam and jump out of bed.

Wash my face, brush my teeth and start to slow down my breathing.

I’ll hope that I have 30 minutes more before the LO wakes up so I can stretch a little.

Meditate a little-little.

Read a little-less.

And write a the littlest-little.

 So I can be sane.

And happy.

And focused.

And ready to face the day.

Dishes be damned.

 

simple Saturday ... 3

073011.  The New Moon is today, at 12:40 pm MDT.  And I love the advice from the folks at Power Path and the School of Shamanism for today ... 

Practice boundaries and discrimination on this day. Be protective of your time and your energy. Spend a good deal of the day either alone or doing exactly what you want to do, revisiting your goals and refining your intentions.

Or spend it with those you really trust, wish to be around, and find energizing to you instead of depleting to your energy.

Watch for tests that come up in this regard. You may find yourself having to be firmer about saying no to something you had been less firm about previously.

This is also a time frame when it is important to have some fun. Do something that is fun for you. Take a break from what is serious.

READ MORE HERE

 

 

We had originally planned on breakfast with Sammy (one of my favorite, fun, energizing, trustworthy, loving gals in my life) ... but that got rescheduled ... ahhh, life.

So today ... the LO and I are going to make some carrot cupcakes (we've reduced the amount of sugar, added cardamom, use organic grapeseed oil instead of canola and my cream cheese frosting doesn't use powdered sugar ... and only half the amount of maple syrup ... ) and taking them to a cookout at Elijah's.  

I can't think of a more fun way to spend the day.

What's on YOUR simple Saturday schedule?

melancholy cowgirls

072911.  It’s only been three weeks.

We talk every day.

We iChat once or twice a week.

It’s not like he’s at war or anything.

It’s not like he’s not coming home.

And it’s not like I’m not going to see him again.

But the Cowboy is a presence.

He has presence.

And when he’s not here, there’s a noticeable hole in the fabric of our home.

He’s strong.

Passionate.

Kind.

Gentle.

Sensitive.

Rugged (even WITH a mustache).

More than a little bit goofy (especially with the mustache).

And the LO and I love and miss him … like crazy.

So we’re keeping busy. 

Cleaning. 

Sorting (through old photos of the Cowboy from a time when I didn’t know him but would have loved him as much if not more than I do already). 

Packing (things for storage, things for the basement, things to clear out some of the clutter as the cottage hits the market). 

Getting ready for the OLO (and maybe for a move … if the Universe aligns).

And counting the days (37) until we get to be in his arms, again.

Are you ready for summer to be over?

a sound investment ...

072811.  The LO is fascinated by birds.  Ducks.  Crows.  Chickadees.  Geese.  Penguins.  If it has feathers, she’s into it.

There’s a duck pond at the local college … we go there at least once a week with a small bag of cheerios so she can share them with her friends.

And there are a few geese and ducks at the local beach we’ve been to in the past few weeks. While other kids are torturing and chasing the birds, the LO cajoles them with the dulcet sounds of her voice and the salty bunny crackers in her snack cup.

“Come, duck.  Come. Coooooooommmme Duuuuuuuuuck!  Come ON!  COME!” (NOTE: this is also how she calls the dogs.  And it works just as well on the ducks.  So … not so much.)

She even wakes up some mornings asking to see this video of a White Ibis taking flight.

 

Or for this one on Toucans.

She’s basically a junior ornithologist.

So about 3 weeks ago we purchased a $9 birdfeeder and $15 worth of birdfeed (which translates into a 30 lb bag).

And after just a few days, our yard is now overrun.

With chickadees.

And robins.

And swallows.

With crows (who are more interested in the sour cherries in the front yard).

And with wrens.

And I’ve been trying to capture a picture of our little bird oasis for as long as we’ve had the feeder.

To no avail.

Until this morning.

Sort of.

But even this morning, at least four flew off before I could snap the shutter.

At least we now have proof that it was a good investment.

Happy Thursday ...

the County Fair ...

072611.  It’s that time of year.

Time for carousels that have been making the rounds since the ‘40s … their tinkling music as the soundtrack for all the other events.

Ferris wheels with cracked paint and operators who get drunk on their power to decide who gets a few extra turns on the old big wheel.

Barkers inviting the crowd to play water-gun wars to win synthetic stuffed dolls made in China.

The smell of animals.

Time for first dates.

Fast cars.

And heartbreaks.

And a cute girl named Beth winning the Dairy Queen title.  (Maybe her name wasn’t Beth … I don’t actually know who won the title at the Gallatin County Fair … but Beth won it when I was in High School … so all girls who win the Dairy Queen are named Beth to me.)

And the pervading odor of funnel cake.

Funnel cake.

Funnel cake.

Funnel cake.

Hmmmm …. Fried dough and powdered sugar.

I love that smell.

I’m craving funnel cake.

 

 

 

why I'm ready to live on the land ...

072511.  I have lived in apartments and houses in urban settings for more than 20 years (which doesn’t include the 20 years I lived in a smallish New Jersey town … in a crowded house with family I love).

I’ve had roommates.  (I will always love you, K.  And I still crave Corn Pops at 3 am … it’s a problem.)

I’ve lived with boyfriends.  (We all make mistakes … but some are way bigger than others, yes?)

I’ve crashed on sofas. (SB … you saved my life … and Joe is still the best dog I’ve ever known.)

Had loud neighbors who party until all hours of the night. 

I’ve even been a loud neighbor with late-night parties.

I’ve complained about barking dogs next door.

And had my dogs complained about.

I’ve lived in about 28 different places in the past 20 years. 

Apartments. 

Houses. 

Duplexes.

Condos.

I’ve done my produce shopping at Whole Foods, local farmers’ markets and local Co-Ops.

I've spent more time in my car commuting than I'd like to remember.

And I’m done.

I’m done with loud neighbors.

I’m done with live-in boyfriends (except for the Cowboy, of course … who is the only boyfriend I ever want again).

I’m done with crashing on sofas (except for those nights I fall asleep watching the Food Network).

And moving every year (or twice a year ... depending on the year).

I'm done commuting.

And I’m ready for a little space.

I’m ready to settle in.

I’m ready to garden.

And compost.

And cook.

And take care of chickens.

I’m ready for cozy Christmases.

And family and friend-filled 4^th of Julys.

I’m even ready to homeschool the kiddos.

Basically, I’m ready for the life I’ve wanted forever.

And you’re all invited to visit!

(This is where you can stay.)

By the way, meeting with the builder went well on Saturday, but it's more than a little clear that for this new life to come to fruition, I’m going to need all the love and kind thoughts you can spare, because it doesn’t seem like it'll be an easy process to make it happen.  In fact, it's probably a long-shot ...

But when you're doing what you're supposed to, the Universe bends to help ...

 

simple saturday ... 2

072311.  Another week … another effort to reduce, re-use, de-clutter and simplify. 

LAST WEEK:  

I added to my list. 

Last week, I took advice from Leo at zenhabits.org and started carrying a change of clothes in my bag for the LO … which I used to do some of the time.  This week I did it all of the time.

And it didn’t simplify my bag … but it did make it a little easier when we went to the beach and the LO decided she didn’t want to wear a bathing suit and ran headlong into the water in her skirt.

And it didn’t simplify the laundry … but it did make the LO happy that after having an accident with some yogurt in her car-seat, there was new shirt that didn’t stick to her body.

So … a new habit is forming.

And now I might need a second liner for the car-seat :)

THIS WEEK ...

The agenda for this week is simple (key word for Saturdays) ... and it involves technology and my use of it.

I used to be a tech-junkie.  Checking my blackberry and/or iPhone constantly for new messages and new updates.

And since I moved to Montana I've gotten MUCH better about not being obsessive about it.

But I still find myself wanting to read and write texts while waiting at red lights.

I still find myself wanting to pick up the phone every time it dings ... no matter how rude it might seem to the person I'm with.

Well ... this week that all changes.

This week, I check my emails TWICE a day (in the morning and at night).

This week, I leave my cellphone in the car when I have meetings or go to the park.

This week, I take control of the technology that's supposed to make my life easier.

Wish me luck ... and don't be bummed if I take a little longer to respond to your notes, tweets and texts ...

 

 

another plea ...

072211.  Bigg-ish news on the homefront-thing ...

I just found out that the contractor (who's representing the seller) on the house we really want ...

You know ...

The perfect one that I showed you on Monday? ...

Yeah ...

That one ...

Anyway ...

That contractor is available to meet with me tomorrow morning to go over some of the details that we wanted to discuss (like who tears down the old farmhouse that's riddled with asbestos and not pictured above and how much does it cost kind of thing ... and who owns the water rights ... and who's leasing some of the land from the current owners and ... what are they doing with it and how ironclad is their lease and do we have to keep them on as tenants kind of thing).

So ...

Yeah ...

Tomorrow morning is exciting ...

And nerve-wracking ...

Because the Cowboy's still in Pittsburgh (argh, this is a long show he's working on!).

So it's on me to get to the bottom of some of this stuff ... and to take a ton more pictures (which I promise to share) ... so the Cowboy can see more of the beauty and spectacle and awesomeness (and sweat equity) that will go into this place ... so we can make it to the next step ... which I guess would be making an official offer?

Anyway ... that means I'm turning to you all AGAIN ... for another set of good thoughts ... because seriously ... I'm totally not kidding ... you want to visit us here.  And the only way to do that is for us to own it :)

OLO takes the lead ...

072111.  Since I typed Tuesday's post, I’ve found myself trying to make the moniker “LG” stick for the other little one who’s going to be joining our family in a few months. 

It’s not working.

I don’t dig it.

It’s too clunky.

It’s a t-shirt size.

And it makes me think of a steakhouse near my parents’ house.

It’s just not what I hear in my head when I talk about him (especially to myself).

Regardless of who I’m talking to or what I’m saying … what I hear is “OLO” … the “Other Little One.”

But I don’t want you to think he’s just “other.”

Because, obviously, he’s his own person.

But he’s not the LO.

Who is our original Little One.

And I don’t like the idea of referring to him as SLO (the “second little one”).

Or LOB (the “little one’s brother”).

He’s not LOLO (the “little one’s little one”).

He’s the “Other Little One.”

Singularly … significantly … other than the LO.

So … I think he’ll probably be OLO from now on.

Red likes it.

We’ll see...

 

a tree grows in Brooklyn ...

072011.  And I discovered yesterday (with the help of our new friends Abby and Elijah) ...

There is a BEACH in Bozeman!?!?

Isn't that one of the best things about meeting new friends?  Inviting new people into one's life opens the door to all sorts of new experiences.

Exciting stuff.

7 minutes to get to heaven ...

071911.  Yesterday. 

Another Monday. 

Another ultrasound. 

Because you might recall that last week, the Little Guy (heretofore known as LG?) wouldn’t cooperate with the Ultrasound Tech to give her good photos of his heart or his profile.

What I didn’t mention last week is that the tech spent a good ten minutes poking and prodding my stomach trying in vain to get him to move.

I had a bruise. 

Okay …

I’m exaggerating …

I didn’t actually have a bruise …

But she was poking pretty hard …

And if I was a bleeder I might have.

So yesterday, I was hoping for a fewer jabs from the gal.

And while he was still quick to show us his boy parts (he's clearly proud of those parts ... that was the first image that popped up on the screen … I hope this isn’t foreshadowing his teen years … I’m already nervous about having a boy), he was also very keen to get on with it.

And clearly, when the kid sets his mind on something, he gets it done.

(he's got the Cowboy's nose, I think ...)

In all of seven minutes, she had pictures of his profile ... images of all four chambers of his heart ... I was in … out … totally relieved to know that all is well ... and walking to the car.

 

 

ask ... if you don't ask ... you won't receive

071811.  Sometimes you just have to ask the Universe for what you want ... right?

You need to rally the forces of good ...

to think good thoughts ...

and send good wishes ...

and dream your dream with you ...

So today ...

I'm rallying the forces of good ... (Hello!  Thanks for reading!)

I'm seeking some of your best thoughts ...

I'm asking for some of your good wishes ...

And pleading that you dream with me today ...

Because we've been on a house hunt.

And last Thursday, we happened upon this:

... and it has this view from the master bedroom ...

 

And an even better one from the guest house ...

And I would like to invite you all for a visit to this place, if we can find a way to make it our home.

 

full moon friday ... it's in full swing

071511.  This month, the Full Moon was today at 12:39 AM Mountain Daylight Time (Thursday night).

According to Lena from Power Path & the School of Shamanism:

“this is a good day to take for yourself and for honoring yourself. Ask yourself what you want to do.  Do it.  Be creative, expressive, impractical, spontaneous, fun, colorful.  If it can be with community, all the better.  Let your guard down and look forward rather than think about the past. Banish regrets and any other negative feelings. There is no room for them on this full moon.”

I like this advice.  I think we’re going to take it by going to the Splash Park in Belgrade with the Little One’s new friend Elijah and his mom Abby. 

(to quote the LO: "It's nice to MEEtchu!")

We met at the Dinosaur Playground … 

(it's hard to tell here, but the LO is not actually smacking Elijah ... she's feeding him seeds.)

… which I’m realizing is sort of like a pick-up joint for toddlers.

Happy Full Moon Friday!

 

vive la Francais!

071411.  Because it’s Bastille Day!

And I love the French.

Yes.

It’s true.

I said it.

I love the French.

I'm a Yogini.

And a Cowgirl.

And a Montana Mama.

Who loves the French.

And I don't just mean the fries.

I love the language.

I love the accent absent the language.

(photo by http://meredithandcarla.com/pages/category/pastry/)

I love the bread. 

Hmmmm.  I can’t say pain chocolat without my mouth watering. 

Or brioche abricot. 

Or crepe sucree. 

Or bagette. 

So now we’re going to have to jump on our bike and head to Café Francais Des Arts this morning as soon as the LO wakes up her sleepy little head.  They make a wicked pain chocolat.  I just have to hope there's some left by the time we get there.

Their heart-wrenching cabaret music.

Edith Piaf has season tickets to the tear ducts in my eyes.

Their fashion (that I’ll never be thin enough to wear … thanks to their bread and my love for it).

 

And their manicures.

 

 

Oh ... and of course ... their mimes.

So today ... I'm going to dress inappropriately for a pregnant woman, eat pain chocolat, cry to some beautiful music, dream about having enough free time to get a french manicure, and wonder what it would be like to live the life of a mime.

What are YOU doing to celebrate your inner French today?

i still do what my mother tells me ...

071311.  I was always a pretty obedient child.  At least, now that I'm a mom, I like to think that.  I mean, I'm sure I was late for curfew once or twice.  And I was for sure not perfect (please, don't tell the snow-angel story again, Mom ... please).

But in general, if push came to shove, I have always had respect for my parents and did what I was told.

And I think that's because of all the positive reinforcement I got from them.  I'd get as much praise for doing something good as I'd get guff for being a goof.  

So yesterday, when the SuperMom called to tell me she liked the blog I wrote, I was pretty psyched.

Actually … she sent me a text to tell me how much she liked the blog.  (The SuperMom is also very 21st Century.)

And then called to tell me I don’t put enough pictures of me on the pages.

But I explained that there aren’t a ton of photos of me … since most of the time it’s just me and the LO … and I’m the one with the camera …

Unless she snags it from me … and then this is what we get:

     or    
She did, at some point in the last month, take a pretty cute photo of her foot, but I can’t find it on my desktop.

Hrmph.

Anyway … to appease my mother just a bit, here are photos of me and the LO on just a few of our adventures:

and one of Red, because he was feeling left out, too:

Happy Wednesday!

 

now it's for real?

071211.  I remember being pregnant with the LO and going to the ultrasound that confirmed she was a healthy little girl with all her measurements and all her parts and all that goodness.  I was living in Los Angeles and the Cowboy was away in Montana on that day and out of cell range, so I sent him a text (how very 21^st Century, right?). 

It said something like:  “Your daughter is very busy, and very healthy.”  And as soon as he got the message, he called and said … “So I guess we’re really having a baby.”

It was the “real” moment for him.

(the real "real" moment for the Cowboy, I think, was the first time he was able to get the LO horseback - she was 3 months old)

It had been “real” for me for a while … what with the weight gain, the never-ending cravings for hummus and apples and tomato sandwiches, the waking in the middle of the night rushing to the bathroom.

But this time … maybe because of the miscarriage in the Fall … this time is different.  This time, I’ve been the one waiting for the ultrasound, looking for the “real” moment. 

Regardless of the weight-gain. 

Regardless of the cravings for all things chocolate (and I am not a woman who loves chocolate … I know that makes me a little different … but it’s true.  In normal circumstances, I’d much rather have carrot cake than a brownie.)

Regardless of the midnight bathroom runs.

It just hasn’t felt “real.”

Like I’m just waiting for the news that it’s a cosmic joke, or something.

So the ultrasound yesterday held a big space for me.

I had a lot riding on it.

This time … I’m in Montana and the Cowboy’s in Los Angeles, so I was in the room with the technician alone … watching as the pictures came into focus.  We looked at kidneys, a stomach, a beautiful straight spine, feet and hands.  She measured head circumference, leg-length, arm-length. 

And at his first opportunity, the little guy turned his cheeks (not the ones on his face) to the camera and showed us his boy parts.  We both laughed.  I really like the Ultrasound Tech. 

And then she needed him to turn again …

She needed him to turn so we could see his profile (not just for cute pictures, but to confirm everything is ... you know ... good)…

She needed him to turn so she could get an image of his heart (which has a strong beat, and she could see through his ribcage, but couldn’t capture on film) …

She needed him to turn so she could measure the space at the base of his neck that tells us if he’s developing without noticeable congenital disorders.

Little bugger.

Apparently he wants to reveal himself in his own time.

Strong-willed and obstinate already.  (He must get that from the Cowboy).

So I’ll go back either tomorrow or Thursday for a more thorough introduction.

And then, even though I now know he’s “real,” maybe my heart will let the experience be “real.”

 

in the meantime ...

071111.  Still a few hours before we find out about the baby parts … so this morning, my meditation felt pretty significant in that it was a challenge to find quiet in my mind, quiet in my body, quiet in my heart.

But I’m extremely thankful for my practice … which has developed into something different than it was even a year ago.  Sure, I still have my daily yoga practice (yes, it has changed a lot since I got pregnant).  But I spend more time in meditation with mantra these days.  And I’ve added reading to my practice … books on meditation, poetry, yoga, gardening, simplifying … books that will encourage me to look a little more deeply at life.

And today, I happened upon this quote from Yogi Bhajan. 

What is the secret to being grateful? Right now you are breathing, you are alive, and you are full of life. If you start with that, you will be prosperous, you will be rich and you will have many opportunities and friends. - Yogi Bhajan

And it was a great reminder that even though I’m waiting … I still have a life to live.

So the LO and I are headed to the Dinosaur Playground.

 

 

no news ... is sometimes just no news ...

070811.  I had a doctor’s appointment this morning.

And an ultrasound scheduled.

The kind that tells you if the babe has all its parts.

And tells you what parts the babe has (girl parts or boy parts).

And since we were traveling for much of the month of June, this appointment was 2 or 3 weeks later than it would have been if I’d been home.

So I’ve been hearing this a lot:

is it a boy?  I bet it’s a boy.

 You’re carrying like it’s a boy this time. 

Hmmm.  Maybe it’s a girl.

And we’d like to know.

We’d like to know the baby has all its parts.

And we’d like to know what parts it has.

So I didn’t sleep much last night.  And then woke up super early for my appointment.

Early enough to shower and actually do my hair – which I’m almost embarrassed to say hasn’t been done in months!  I even put on a little eye-liner.  Stop the train!

Anyway … Sammy came over to watch the LO.  And I was out the door with way too much time to spare.

Got to the doctor.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited.

Brought back to the room.

Stood on a scale (gained 22 pounds so far ... in 22 weeks ... not terrible).

Peed in a cup.

Had my blood pressure taken (100 over 50 ... excellently low, without being comatose).

Waited in the room.

Nurse Amber walks in …

“No ultrasound technician today.”

I’m sorry, what? 

“I’m sorry, we’re going to have to reschedule.  But Dr. Freeman can still sit and chat with you.”

Umm … (If she had taken my blood pressure at this moment it would probably have been higher.)

“We can probably get you in Monday.”

Oh …

“Is that going to be a problem?”

Okay … I mean … if there’s no technician, I guess there’s no technician.  Can someone else run the machine?

“No.”

Oh.  Okay.  Monday.

So … Monday … in the late afternoon.

I love waiting.  Good thing I meditate.

 

this time last year ...

070711. If you had asked me last year where I would be, what I'd be doing, and where my "head" is at, I'm not sure I would have answered any of those questions correctly.  Because when I look back on the last 12 months ... boy-o ... there was a LOT I couldn't have guessed.

For example, I didn’t know the LO would be a sleep-talker… a constant … consistent … clearly articulate “meerkatting” sleep-talker.  “I dropped my key!” she exclaimed at 2 am … popping up like a meerkat out of its hole … pause … plopping down back into deep sleep just seconds later. 

And at 4 am … “That’s MY naynay,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. (“Naynay is the sound a horse makes, and she’s been calling them that since she could speak a syllable.”)

And then at 8 this morning, still deep in slumber … “Where’s my bag?” Pop up.  “Where’s my BAG!!??!!” … plop down.

I didn’t know I’d be pregnant again.  The third time in three years.  You see, We thought there’d already be another little one keeping us up at night as I was pregnant this time last year … but it’s important to remember that life happens as it’s supposed to … and we find out tomorrow if we’re having a boy or girl.  Fingers crossed for healthy!

I didn’t know the Cowboy would be on a 10-month job while we readied the Cottage to go on the market and house-hunted for a space big enough for the brood and the horses and the dogs.

(Why can’t THIS place be for sale and in our price range? ... obviously, this is just the barn ... the house is hidden behind a grove of trees and is a gorgeous traditional farmhouse ... and I covet it.)

I didn’t know it would be so easy to call Montana “home.”  After years in Los Angeles, I’m shocked on most days to realize that the only real things I miss are my friends … who are some of the most amazing gals you’d ever want to meet.  Shout out to the ladies!!

I didn’t know how to ride a horse, but I knew I loved the big guy, Red.

I didn’t know I’d be leading a series of 40-day meditations that would do more to change my life and my perspective than almost anything else in my life.

And I didn’t know how to make Vietnamese Iced Coffee ... 

 

... which means I really didn't know happiness :)

What didn’t YOU know?

 

40-day Community Meditation begins TODAY

070611. Now that summer is in full swing, it's time to move our meditations outside.  And I can't think of a better way to do that than to use our next 40-day Community Meditation to experience a walking meditation. Walking relaxes the brain, balances the hormones, balances the glandular and nervous systems.  And when we add Mantra and very simple Mudra to that experience, the benefits are multiplied, and we gain access to our inner knowledge, we develop patience, we increase our vitality and make communication easier.   THE PLAN: We'll meet at Be the Change Yoga Studio at 7:45pm Wednesday Nights starting July 6, tune in, warm up and hit the road toward Peet's Hill for a 3.5 mile walking meditation. As with all our 40-day meditations, you'll receive daily emails to help inspire you and keep you going, you'll gain access to a community of people who are experiencing the meditation together and you'll have ample opportunity to ask questions, offer solutions, and engage in an experience that's bigger than yourself. Challenge yourself to commit to a meditation for 40 days and invite your life to transform!     COST:  $22 (or two punches on your card) for all 6 weeks.

 

when the fireworks are over ...

070511.  The LO and I were up at 5 am this morning driving the Cowboy (once again) to the airport so he can get back to his work on the big bad movies.  Fresh with memories of a fun-food-and-family-and-friends-and-fireworks-filled-five days…

 

… and more than a little sadness to see him go again knowing that, this time, we won’t see him until Labor Day.

NOTE:  For way better photos of our Fourth of July celebration, check out my niece Samantha's orangephotographie photo blog ... she and her beau are fantastic photographers (and available for weddings, portraits, you name it!).

 

 

cravings ...

070111.  You see this picture?

It’s haunting me.

Yes.

I said it.

I can’t get it out of my mind.

The ice is perfectly melted.

The coffee is exactly the right color.

I can taste this coffee.

And I want this coffee.

Now … you should know … I didn’t take this picture.

I didn't make this coffee ... Yet.

It’s from the Pioneer Woman’s blog. 

I don’t have any of this coffee on hand in my house.

I believe this is the plain Perfect Iced Coffee ... but the Pioneer Woman has a mean streak and has included a recipe for Thai Iced Coffee ... and that's what I imagine when I see this photo.

And I know for sure there’s nowhere in Bozeman to actually purchase a coffee that tastes the way I imagine this one to taste.

So when I was at the store yesterday I went crazy and bought these:

Because by golly, I’m going to make the Thai Iced version of this coffee before the weekend is over or so help someone.  And I might like it so much I make a lot of this coffee (which only calls for 2 or 3 tablespoons of sweetened condensed milk).

Now I just need to get the coffee grounds.

Rockford Coffee Roaster, here I come! (Rockford roasts the best coffee I've ever had ... and I'm not kidding about this ... it's better than coffee I've had in New York, Los Angeles, London ... way better ... like even if you don't like coffee, there's a good chance you'd like this coffee.)

Other tasty treats on the menu for this holiday weekend, because I’ve decided that the way I’m going to celebrate Independence is indulging in all of the cravings I’ve been having:

Tres Leches cake – I made this version about 18 months ago and haven’t stopped thinking about it.  Maybe I’ll even add some blueberries and strawberries to the top to make this Mexican favorite a little more patriotic.

Homemade Ginger Ale from Homemade Ginger Syrup – because who doesn’t like to make their own spicy goodness, and this looks just a little too easy to pass up.

Marinated Portobello Mushroom “Burgers.”

And a vinegar-based coleslaw with a nice kick.

Then … for the carnivores at our party, there are sure to be burgers and dogs … maybe some carne asada because that’s a specialty of the Cowboy’s (and it’s some of the LO’s favorite food in the world).

What’s on YOUR menu for the weekend?

I think I'm heartbroken ...

063011.  I've been taking horseback riding lessons since I moved to Montana last year.

It's been amazing.

I've learned a tremendous amount ... about myself ... about the horses ... about life, in general.

So it's a bummer for me that I can't ride while pregnant.  (I know, I know ... real cowgirls ride until the day they deliver ... but I'm not that good ... not yet, anyway.)

I stopped riding about a month ago, at the advice of doctors and my riding instructor.

So it's been a month since I had to lure in my boyfriend Red from the pasture.

And it's been a month since I saddled him up.

But that doesn't mean I don't love him.

And miss him.

So we went out to Suzie's yesterday so I could give him a nice brush down.

And I called him.

I shook the blue bucket filled with grain.

I offered up an apple. (Red loves apples ... but don't tell the Cowboy.)

Hrmph.

I don't think he misses me as much as I miss him.

Toss Your Expectations Into the Ocean | zen habits

063011.  Every once in a while, I read something by this guy Leo (from zenhabits.net) and I realize he's putting into words one of my fundamental beliefs ...

And today, he's done it again.  So I thought I'd share ... because it was one of the best decisions I've ever made and really done wonders to making me a happier and healthier human being.

So I encourage you to click the link and check it out ... maybe it's something you need to hear today, too?

How much of your stress, frustration, disappointment, anger, irritation, pissed-offedness comes from one little thing?

via zenhabits.net

I'm open to advice ...

062911.  I love my daughter.

She has a beautiful and yet goofy spirit.

She has verve.

She’s full of spunk and she’s basically fearlessness in the face of a merry-go-round full of big kids she doesn't know.

And I love our adventures. 

She amazes me with her stamina and her ability to entertain herself and me with her imagination and her joy.

And yet …

There comes a moment …

In every journey …

When it is time to go home.

And that beautiful spirit … that verve … that endless supply of spunk … all melts down into a raging tearful extravaganza of not wanting to get into her car seat.

I’m not talking about a meltdown.

I’m talking about a meltdown.

Her body becomes a rigid-little-don’t-buckle-me-in-board.

Tears stream.

The air around her curdles.

It doesn’t happen always (usually when she’s tired, I think).

But when it does …

Other moms walk by the car and look at us with pity.

Grandmothers stop to see if there’s something they can do to help.

Young pregnant couples look in horror at a fate that might be theirs one day.

And last night, as we readied to leave the weekly farmer’s market at Bogert Park (a massively crowded-it-seems-like-everyone-who-lives-in-Bozeman-was-there-kind-of-event)...

... a Fireman … in full regalia … walked over to the car to make sure everything was okay. 

And I mean, he didn’t just happen to be passing by.

He walked over from the other side of the parking lot. 

Because he heard screaming. 

And he was concerned.

Lucky for me, as he approached the vehicle, the screaming stopped.  The tears dried up a little.  And the LO smiled coyly at this burly man in a jumpsuit.

Until he walked away, shaking his head.

And there was just enough of a window to get her into the seat before she went rigid again.

So thank you, Fireman, wherever you are.

 

 

I’m a morning person ...

062811.  I used to think I was a night person.

But now when I think about it … I used to like to stay up all night so I could see the sunrise.

Because by “morning person,” I mean I like to wake up before the sun rises so I can see the first golden rays peak over the horizon. 

I like the quiet. 

I like the solitude. 

I like that very few people are up at this hour (including the LO … who has not yet shown herself to be a morning person).

And it reminds me of the possibilities the day might bring.

 

 

s'mores or no ... I like camping

062711.  Yes.  There were s’mores.

We made sure of it.

We brought the fixins.  (We didn't want to take any chances ...)

But as tasty and fun as they are, I realized something else this weekend:

I like camping. 

I especially like camping with the Cowboy (I may start to call him “The Preacher” after this trip). 

(NOTE:  There are no pics of me and the Cowboy on this trip ... one of us was always holding the camera)

And I like camping with the LO (even though she takes up the entire bed roll).

I like camping with good friends. (Especially the ones you meet on the camping trip.)

And horses. 

I like campfires ... for warmth and for cooking ...

(This much meat is only slightly scary for someone who struggles to be a vegetarian.)

I like waking up at dawn in the wilderness (even when it’s 33 degrees outside) to find a campfire burning, coffee in the pot, and only a few souls with whom to share one of those perfect moments.

(The preacher, the groom and the best man ... at dawn ... the day of.)

But I especially loved this weekend because it celebrated life and love and commitment in a way I hadn’t before …

I mentioned that the Cowboy officiated Kurt & Carolyn’s nuptials, overlooking Sphinx Peak in the Gallatin Mountain Range (about 10-12 miles deep into the hills). 

I’d like to share with you just a bit of the ceremony because I’m a sucker for real love … and I was invited to glimpse a pure moment this weekend, and that seems worth sharing:

“Being here today once again confirms my belief that we are not meant to travel life’s trails on our own.  We are meant to share this adventure with a partner.  Finding that perfect person to share your journey with through this byzantine world of mountain peaks, deep valleys, fast running rivers and endless oceans, isn’t easy.  Invariably it’s an effort of trial and error.  A real world game of hide and seek that many of us earnestly play and fail at more often than naught before we find that perfect partner to pose the question so simply stated by Dave Stamey, in his song “Come Ride With Me.”

 (The groom at dawn.  The day of.)

“Come ride with me

Time to saddle up n’ ride away

Is so much to see

Don’t worry I know the trails I know the way”

(the bride … 30 minutes after dawn … the day of)

“I caught a gentle horse

His eyes are big and brown

He’s ready to carry you the whole world round

Come ride with me, let’s ride away”

“Come take a chance

I’ll show you where the mountains touch the sky

It’s a horseback dance

And we can ride forever if we try”

“That dream in the distance

There for you to chase

Out in the sunrise with the wind on your face

Come ride with me, let’s ride away …”

 Well.

He asked …

She answered …

And that uncomplicated but powerful request to go through life together has led us to this very place and time.  Michael Luening, the Australian poet and cartoonist wrote, “Love one another and you will be happy.  It’s as simple and as difficult as that.”

Wishing Kurt and Carolyn a lifetime of bliss ...

 

 

 

what if there are no s'mores?

062411.  I told you we’re going camping this weekend. I've never been real camping before. I mean, I've camped.  In high school.  With a group of gals.  In a Jersey State Park.  At a well-populated camp-ground.  

But I've never been camping in the real wild.  Where you have to lock up food and garbage and keep them outside of the camp to keep the bears away kind of camping.  When it's going to be 35 degrees at night kind of camping.  So ... you know ... that's very exciting.

What I failed to mention is that the impetus for our trip is a wedding for one of the Cowboy’s dearest friends.  In fact, the Cowboy is donning his figurative clergy-man robes this weekend and officiating the nuptials. 

(If I haven’t mentioned that the Cowboy is a poet and a beautiful orator, I guess now would be the time … it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I’m sure … that … and his Stetson … and boots … and the scar on his chest where he was gored by a bull back in his steer-wrestling days.)

(yes, that's really the Cowboy ... and no, this isn't the day he got gored ... but I love this picture.)

But I digress …

So … we’re camping this weekend.

And Kurt and Carolyn are tying the knot.

In a locale that is only accessible by horseback.

Which means the LO and I will miss the knot-tying … because as qualified as I feel to ride Red in a round-pen, I am equally as unqualified to ride him on a still-snow-covered trail across a stream and up a mountain … and at 20 weeks pregnant ... hmmmm ...

I think we’ll hang at base-camp.  With the other pregnant mamas and their babies.

And I’ll just be thankful to have an opportunity to explore the outdoors with our rock-climbing little nature-lover.

And prepare the s’mores.

Because even though it’s wedding, we’re camping, and I’m pretty sure there have to be s’mores, right?

If there are no s’mores, I don’t think I can go.

 

Q: Let’s hear some wedding stories … who’s got one?

 

so close. And yet ...

062311.  The LO and I are still on the road.

It’s not a very long story … we basically got distracted by a beautiful park in Salt Lake City, UT.  (And if my iPhone weren’t completely out of juice, I’d have pictures to post … but since I only have a car charger, we’ve got no phone and no pics until we start driving again later today.)

Then we dropped the SuperMom off at the airport for her 5 pm flight back to Palm Springs and continued on our way. (She was with us for 760 of the 1100 mile trip, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank her … especially since she’s got to get up at 5:30 this morning to go to work … now maybe you know why I call her the SuperMom.)

By the time we hit Idaho Falls (and a raging thunder storm), we were ready for an indoor heated pool experience.

Yay, Shilo Inn, for delivering a much-needed respite.

We’ve got about 200 miles to go.

But we'll probably take another dip before we hit the road this morning.

And we’re looking forward to sleeping in our own beds tonight.

 

Q: What distracts you on long road trips?

 

longest day of the year ...

062111.Summer solstice is today at 11:16 AM Mountain Daylight Time. And we are leaving the SuperMom's for the second leg of our trip home, so this is going to be short and sweet because posting on my iPod is supposed to be easy, and yet ...maybe you saw my first attempt?
But back to Solstice ... Because that's more interesting than my technical difficulties.
According to Power Path, Inc.& School of Shamanism, today is...
"A good time to vision what you wish for yourself in the future. By this time your patterns should be sufficiently shaken up to allow for some clarity in a new direction or at least in a realignment of how you are currently playing out your life. Do some intention work, visioning, sharing, celebrating, practicing gratitude, working with the sun and the earth, and having some fun. Enjoy the chaos and the creativity and the innovation and the inspiration and the resilience of the collective and your personal part in the experience of life on this planet. If you feel altered and unsettled, get used to it. Have fun anyway!"
Count me in!
P.S. We miss the Cowboy already.
Q: what's your vision for the day?

the longest day of the year...

travel tip #1

062011.  We leave Los Angeles today for a 3-day journey home. 

First stop: to pick up the SuperMom at her home near Palm Springs.  She's traveling with me and the LO so we don't have to be on the road 18 hours alone.  I am very thankful for the SuperMom!  (Although she has to work Thursday, so we've got to get her to Salt Lake City by Wednesday afternoon so she can hop on a flight back ... have I mentioned lately that she's awesome?)

We’re sad to go, but we’ve got a horseback riding-camping trip-wedding planned for the weekend at which the Cowboy is officiating … I can’t wait to tell you more about that.  So we’re also kind of excited about the upcoming adventure.

I don’t usually offer up travel tips  but I did something so right this trip, I really feel like I need to share.

A brief recap for you in case you’ve been out-of-touch … we left Montana a little more than 3 weeks ago for a lengthy trip to Los Angeles where we are staying in a super-tiny sublet with a mini-closet and one dresser for three people … one of whom is here for 8 months.  So to say that storage was limited is kind of an understatement.  No place for clothes.  No place for toys.  Barely enough room for shoes. 

So what I decided to do was, instead of loading down the LR3 with bulky oversized suitcases, I ran out to Target and bought three Michael Graves canvas under-bed storage bags.  One for clothes for me.  One for clothes for the LO.  And one for toys, books and sundry other important things we might need.  We packed two small overnight bags for the trip.  And away we went.

It was PERFECT.  We got to our tiny sublet, didn’t have to unpack, didn’t have to find a place to hide our oversized suitcases or store our plethora of toys and books, we just slid our bags under the bed and we were ready to start living! 

Now I don’t recommend this for a weekend getaway to a lush and extravagant resort because who wants a Porter to be able to check out the contents of your bag, but for an extended trip, by car, to a place with limited storage and a bed that’s more than six inches off the ground?  Ideal. 

The clear plastic cover allows easy awareness of all your stuff … no rummaging ... less mess. The compact size (about 6 inches deep, by 36 inches long by about 30 inches wide) means three bags fit perfectly under a full-sized mattress (four would probably fit under a queen, but we didn’t have a queen bed here).

 

Q: So now I’m looking for other good travel ideas … we’re camping this weekend … with a 2-year-old … what do you suggest?

 

conditioning ... by the Little One

061711.  One of the things I’m most looking forward to about getting home to Montana is the Community Meditation we practice at the BE THE CHANGE YOGA STUDIO.  It’s typically a 40-day meditation during which we meet once a week to practice the meditation, drink yogi tea, and talk about the meditation process.  And the one that’s coming up for the month of July is a walking meditation called Breathwalk, using the bij mantra Sa Ta Na Ma.

The plan is to start at the studio and to do the meditation either through Lindley Park or Pete’s Hill.

And the thing is … I was starting to get anxious about doing this meditation what with my realization that I’m more and more pregnant each and every day.

But then, yesterday, the LO decided to teach me an important lesson.

You see, our sublet in Los Angeles is on the border of the neighborhoods of Silver Lake and Echo Park.  On a side street that is geographically more akin to San Francisco than Los Angeles … steep 50 degree inclines, 60 degree decline, backyard chicken coops and gorgeous gardens.

 

 (this picture does NOT capture the severity of this steep hill … if anyone knows how to capture better perspective using an iPhone camera, I’d be happy for the tutorial)

And the LO is a big fan of walking.

Especially up and down stairs and hills.

A bigger fan of flowers.

And an even bigger fanatic about chickens.

So we spent about an hour yesterday marching up …

And down …

And up ...

And down the nearby hills.

In search of stairs, flowers, chickens

She’s awesome.

And I have only excitement left for the meditation.

And enthusiasm for the walk we’re about to take.

 

Q:  What have you learned lately about yourself?

 

I think I say this every time I find myself here ...

061511.   I love LA.

I love the sun.

I love the beach.

I love the canyons and the hiking.

I love Intelligentsia Coffee.

And now I have a new reason to love Los Angeles.

Actually, my new love is in Santa Monica.

Which is unusual for me since I was such an East Side Gal when I lived here, rarely venturing west of Fairfax except to go to my office.

But when I got here two weeks ago, the Cowboy took me shopping (yay!) because … well … I’ve never been pregnant in the summer.  And I had that visit to the Institutes coming up … and none of my clothes fit me except my really low-cut jeans, which thankfully still fit below the bump that is way more surprising this second time around.

Now I know I made this bargain with myself to simplify and reduce the clutter in my closet.  I know I made this commitment to eliminate one old thing every time I bring a new thing into the house … but in my defense ... I'm doing my best to buy clothes that were made locally and sold in stores that are owned locally ... and I’m making an exception here because I would rather not embarrass my mother by walking around in clothes that don’t fit. (I'm guessing the SuperMom isn't going to be psyched I'm using her as my excuse :)

So we found ourselves on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica and wound up at a place called 2chix maternity and baby boutique. (Is it just an irony that I can’t seem to escape Montana now that I count it my home?) 

It’s fantastic.

And fashion forward without being "trendy."

High quality.

And the best news:  despite it’s pricey locale, it’s not over-priced (especially the sale rack).

Oh … and they have an online shop where I plan to purchase their 40-week skirt

(I don't think I can pull off the bare bump, but the skirt is so fabulous, I might just try ... hahaha)

... which was out of stock when I visited the store.

 

Q:  Have you discovered any new locally-owned shops lately that deserve a little online plug?

 

the gentle revolution ... count me in

061411.  You may have noticed that I’ve been MIA for the past month.  Thanks for being patient.  It’s been a busy month. 

Here’s a brief re-cap: 

• The Cottage is going on the market in July and we’ve had last minute work to do (like having the trim painted and a new screen door installed).  We’re also doing some paring down for “staging,” which I’m sure you can imagine makes for some interesting (read: intense) debate over which photos stay and which ones go to storage.
• We’re deep into a new home search for a house a little further from town center (but not so far that we can’t get in for gymnastics and the library) where we can keep the horses, dogs, people and new addition of chickens and cows and a cat in one place.
• I'm 21 days in to a 40-day meditation that I'm leading for four of the most soulfully beautiful women I can imagine.
• The Cowboy’s still hard at work on the new Batman movie in Los Angeles, so the LO and I packed our bags and drove down for a month-long visit.  In the middle of which, I jetted off to Philadelphia for a week-long seminar about early childhood development that has done two things … given me a few new friends-for-life …

(not the best picture of any one of us ... but I think 2011 is my year to be introduced to amazing women ... and I'm thankful!)

• … and changed my perspective on children so profoundly that I’m still figuring out how it’s all going to play out in my day-to-day living. 
• I’m over-my-head at work building the mommyandmemontana.com website (that will be launching in about a week if I can ever find a time to call dreamhost and figure out the final steps!) – stay tuned for the launch!
• Oh … and I’m 18 weeks pregnant.  So then there’s that.
• Aaaaand … after being gone for a week, the LO’s hair grew long enough to wear her first ponytail!

But back to the seminar … because of all the things happening in these past five weeks, the event that had the most profound affect on how my life is unfolding is what happened over the course of 7 days in Wyndmere, Pennsylvania, at The Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential, a non-profit organization that has, since the 60s, been working to rehabilitate severely brain-injured children. 

(me with Glenn Doman, his wife and daughter Janet Doman ... the powers behind the gift of the Institutes)

They’ve had incredible (unbelievable, actually) success teaching blind children to see … paralyzed children to walk … and profoundly brain-injured children to read.  Their work with kids with Autism is amazing.  And Cerebral Palsy.  Downs Syndrome.  And the list goes on and on.

Three times a year, they invite parents of well-children to get a glimpse at their work and it’s amazing what happens.

The movement is called The Gentle Revolution … which presupposes that we can create a more peaceful world if we raise our children to be a more peaceful generation (i.e., give them access to their own god-given potential).  And here’s the gist:

Lessons from the Gentle Revolution that seem so obvious we shouldn’t have to learn them:

1 – if you love a child, she will spend her life loving.

2 – if you show a tiny child respect, she will respect her world.

3 – if you tell a tiny child the truth, she will live her life honestly.

4 – if you teach a tiny kid to read, she will spend her life loving to learn.

5 – if you feed a tiny child good food and teach her how to move her body, she will have a lifetime of good health and happiness.

­I know I sound like a PSA for the Institutes … but it’s a challenge not to after witnessing their work.

Anyway … I’m back … and I hope to see you around the blogsphere again soon!

 

Q:  What’s the one thing you looked for when buying (or renting) your home … the non-negotiable, gotta have it, thing that you can’t live without?

 

Happy Mothers Day ...

050811 ...to my mother ... to my grandmother ... to my mother-in-law ... and my godmother ... to my aunts ... to my cousins ... and to all the women who have mothered me through the years (friends, teachers, co-workers, and the like)

... and Happy Birthday to my cousin Thomas!

"By construction, the fulfillment of a woman is motherhood; and motherhood does not mean that she gets pregnant and delivers a baby. If you understand her total behavior, you will understand her motherhood. Her motherhood is service, her motherhood is sacrifice, her motherhood is relationship. When she knows motherhood, she is fulfilled." -- Yogi Bhajan

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." -- Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his." -- Oscar Wilde

"When I was a child, my mother said to me, 'If you become a soldier, you'll be a general. If you become a monk you'll end up as the pope.' Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso." -- Picasso

 

Q: Have you appreciated your mother today?

 

 

7 Dangerous Food Additives and Ingredients and How to Avoid Them - Planet Green

043011. You know I don't get on a soap-box all that often ... but this is important to me ... 

I hope it's important to you ... but if it's not important to you, maybe this will help sway your opinion:

A diet with too many processed foods can cause a world of trouble for us on a number of fronts. Processed foods lack nutrient density, meaning that many of the vitamins and minerals have been lost in processing or they weren't there in the first place. Second, we tend to overeat foods like chips, cookies, boxed meals, dips, etc because we don't feel satiated. We don't feel as full as with whole foods loaded with fibrous fruits and vegetables, so we keep on eating. But the most scary aspect of processed foods can often be what we didn't even realize was added in the first place.

via planetgreen.discovery.com

 

Oh ... and then there's this!:

Failure to Yield

Evaluating the Performance of Genetically Engineered Crops

For years the biotechnology industry has trumpeted that it will feed the world, promising that its genetically engineered crops will produce higher yields.

That promise has proven to be empty, according toFailure to Yield, a report by UCS expert Doug Gurian-Sherman released in March 2009. Despite 20 years of research and 13 years of commercialization, genetic engineering has failed to significantly increase U.S. crop yields.

via union of concerned scientists

my camera was in the kitchen ... what's wrong with me?!?!

042911.  After making scones last night at 9 pm (no pic available ... not that the camera wasn't nearby ... it was sitting on the kitchen counter ... about 3 feet from the scones for more than a few hours), the LO and I retired to bed for a few short hours of rest before our Royal Wedding Party began.

My plan was to get up at 1:30, set the table, make some whipped cream (no clotted cream available at any of our local stores here in Bozeman, so we make due, don't you know).

But then I slept through my alarm, which is on my phone (I had the sound turned off so as not to wake the baby with any sort of ringing ... which apparently included the alarm ... which is sort of a bummer.)

So I was glad to have a wake-up call in the form of Hitcher, who started barking when the first car pulled into our driveway.  I had time to pop up and out of bed, so I don't think Sammy could tell I had been sleeping until she arrived.

Sammy walked in at 2:10 am (again, no pic available, but Sammy was wearing fuzzy pink PJs and cozy slippers as she trudged through the snow to get to the Cottage).

I was in the kitchen whipping cream when Kelly arrived about 5 minutes later (no pic), bright and bushy-tailed despite having a stressful and long week.  She is an amazing woman who I will write about one day ... gorgeous, strong, intense and empowered.

The tea was brewed (Earl Grey, thank you very much).  The scones were warm and tasty (yay for Sticky Fingers original scones mix ... I just didn't have it in me to make them from scratch last night).  And the McVittie's Digies were open and on display ... hmmmm.

And until the moment the wedding began, the LO slept silently and peacefully.

But then the procession began ... and she just couldn't contain herself any longer.  

"MAMA ... MAAAA MMAAA ... MA!"

I couldn't ignore it ... (and not just because two women sat in our living room looking at me like if I didn't get up I would be a not-so-great-mother) ... apparently she needed to see the Grace-Kelly-inspired-Alexander-McQueen-dress, too!

Again, no pics ... Arghhhhh ... what's my problem?!!

Oh .... and it's snowing again ... in case you were wondering ... we're not having Spring this year.  I'm guessing we might just wake up in July and it'll be Summer.

Q: What did YOU do last night?

It's Shakespeare's birthday ... and I'm worried

042311.  It’s also my cousin Kathleen’s birthday.  (Happy Birthday, Kay!  Happy Birthday, Will!)

These two facts are major indicators for me that we’re in the middle of Spring.

At least, we’re one third of the way toward Summer.

And I'm having fantasies about beach days.

Short sleeved shirts.

And sun hats.

But it’s 22 degrees?

… and there’s snow on the ground?

I’m concerned about our tulips.

On the upside, there’s a dinosaur egg hunt and “eggstravaganza” at the Museum of the Rockies today.

So out come the snowboots … again …

 

Q: What’s on your docket for the day?