This little place I live is so amazing. Trees and light and birds. I will really miss it when we move this summer. Still don’t know where we’re moving to, so don’t ask. I’m super impatient about this whole thing and have absolutely no control. I could start deep cleaning my house or something productive in preparation. I will one of these days. Probably on a Saturday when there is a grown-up here to keep me on task.

Anyway, I got tagged for a “write 7 random things about you” meme, so here goes:

1. I’m messy and generally disorganized. I try to be on top of things and do fairly well in spurts. It is a very good thing I married the man I did because I have gotten pretty good at maintaining some routines when it comes to the structure of our mornings and evenings, but as for maintaining self discipline with things that I don’t like to do (read dusting, cleaning finger prints off walls, dog snot off of windows, or even sometimes pee off of the bathroom floor) I’m not so good. This has been a problem as long as I can remember. Ask my mom.

2. I worked in a wood shop in college. We took trees that would be taken to the dump and turned them into lumber, then into jewelry boxes. I got to use lots of power tools and learned to identify all sorts of woods. It was an awesome job– much better than the two weeks of phone calls I made for AT&T. I couldn’t handle that for long.

3. Um, I have to sleep hugging something soft, but inanimate. I slept with a big white stuffed reindeer until I had two kids, then decided that I should try to be a grown-up, so I gave up the reindeer. I absolutely must have my hugging pillow,though, or my back is all tweeked in the morning.

4 . I’m irrationally afraid of making phone calls. To anyone. If someone can explain this to me please do.

5. I really, really want a tree house some day.

6. Hmm… my favorite color is green. Brown and blue are right up there. Well, it has to be the right blue– a light turquoisish bluish grayish. The color of the walls in my kitchen, dining, family room area– that blue.

7. I watched American Idol tonight. People seem to be surprised when I tell them I watch American Idol. I guess I don’t seem like the American Idol type? I’m really not much of the TV watching type, but watch American Idol I do. I’m rooting to the two Mormons. Oh, and the kid with the dread locks.

Now, if you have a blog and feel so inclined to write 7 things about yourself on it consider yourself tagged.

Oh yeah, I’m a printmaker! I spent my last 2 years of college in the printmaking lab. Sometimes nearly 24 hours a day. I love printing things. I love making one thing to make something else a whole bunch of times. I like to have an extra to give to my mom. I like to plan and retrace and perfect my drawings before they become something. I like to print things. I am a printmaker!

Welcome to my birthday party. We went to the art store this morning. I got some screens, bulbs, and ink, came home, drew and planned, and once Logan was down for a nap I got to work! It was so cool how fast the screen was made. Flash–just like that. I went the low tech route to make my master by just drawing with the Riso pen (that came with the press) and filled in an area with Sharpie. Over all I was pleased as punch, though the part I had planned on being a flat color didn’t burn completely and had some texture. I actually like that in the finished print though. Want to see it? Well, here it is:

I drew the tulip tree pod hanging on my mobile.

It is the same screen printed twice with two different colors of ink. The paper is Rives BFK becuase I have tons of scraps. It has some texture, but not too much. The ink sits beautifully on it. I learned that when I mix an ink color I need to make more than I think I need so that I get adequate coverage. I didn’t make quite enough of the bluish color and the line drawing pod is splotchy in the middle. I used Simple Green (thanks to all the awesome info over at the Gocco flickr group) to clean my screen in between colors and it worked like a charm without any toxic chemicals. On the brown run I used the ink blocking foam to guard the solid seedpod from getting printed and that worked just perfectly. So, all in all I call my first printing a success

Here it is on Rives Lightweight in a creamy color. Oh, and without the blue ink…

Now, how could a birthday get any better? I have the BEST husband this world has ever seen.

(Well, I did get a light blue fleece jacket from my inlaws, which I really needed. It’s cute and feminine and warm. THANKS!!)

(Okay, i’m having a hard time with my wordpress update. can’t get my picture to be centered and there are some places where I want space between the lines and it just won’t stick. aaauuurrrghh)

Monique tagged me to write 7 things… YiKES

But first I must say that Block Swap sign ups are going very well and I’m excited about the talented quilters I will get to have blocks from If you’ve signed up, look for your name on the right side of the block swap page!
Now, this is because I believe every post should have a picture

here’s some quilt block making inspiration by you know who.
Okay, on with the listing…

7 things to do before I die (in no particular order)
become a yoga teacher

live in another country (or at least visit one)

do another triathalon

have art in a real gallery, and even my own show

have a really cool art studio–with lots of high counters, big sinks, an etching press, easels, a pottery wheel, a couch for sitting and knitting, tables and chairs to sit and work at… you know, a place where I can make anything and everything. where the kids and I can go for school everyday, and maybe other people could visit and I could teach classes, or just hang out and make stuff. i always imagined this in an old barn all fixed up, but after seeing the INCREDIBLE light in Denyse Schmidt’s studio in an old industrial building I may change my dreams. barns don’t have windows.

build a tree house, well, have a tree house. someone else can do most of the building if they want as long as i get to help design it.
make a book– a real book with a story and pictures. write, illustrate, print, bind

Barry is being promoted to Captain today. It’s a beautiful day outside and I have this overflowing feeling of joy and graditude and, well, I can’t put my finger on it…

Yesterday something got me thinking about my mission in life, what I want, what Barry wants, what I’m made for. Clearly I’m made to be a mom, my service is needed in God’s church… but what about this unquenchable drive I have to make things? I remember as a little girl I would scheme and dream about the tree house I would someday live in, the art I would make, the lessons I would teach, and how I would somehow be a big influence for good. When I was in high school I was convinced that this urgency to be known by a large audience and have some positive, creative, good influence must mean I needed to be famous. I would tell my mom maybe I’d be in musicals. Maybe I’d draw for Disney movies. I’m still going through the maybes. But this nagging feeling of urgency to BE, to create, to DO the things I idle away daydreaming about ebbs and flows throughout my life, and it never goes away. It seems to be high tide today.

This may seem completely unrelated, but yesterday I started looking into Signing Time. It’s a video program to teach toddlers and preschoolers sign language. It’s beautifully put together. We checked out some of the videos from the library yesterday. The music is great. Logan is already making the sign for milk when he wants to nurse. But, the thing that is most striking to me is that it is put together by Mormon moms who found their purpose, took some risks, used their God-given talents and circumstances to create something useful and influential in the world.

All day I’ve been listening to Peter Breinholt. His music has sentimental value because Barry and I fell in love at one of his concerts. But, his music just feels good. And he is good. If you have time, read this. Another Mormon who found a place with his uniqueness, and is a humble influence for good.

I need to be a DO-er. I’m built to day-dream. I read this quote from President Monson the other day: “The work of reactivation is no task for the idler or daydreamer. Children grow, parents age, and time waits for no man. Do not postpone a prompting; rather, act on it, and the Lord will open the way.” It peirced straight to my heart. And not at all within the context of serving in the church and working to reactivate people who have fallen away. It talked of daydreamers– and time doesn’t wait for them. Well, if anyone is a daydreamer, I am. And so, I need to make my dreams; I need to do them and not simply dream them. Time will run out.

So, I need to put a lot of inhibitions aside. I don’t have to make money. I don’t have to be completely practical. I don’t need to worry about what people will say about the things I make (particularly our parents). I don’t have to paint pictures of the Saviour to make art with a spiritual impact (an “aha” from Peter Breinholt). I think this list is much longer…

I think a lot. I combine things and find connections. I visualize and go through elaborate constructions–but I do it all in my head. So, what good is that? It all disappears.

I think I do have a mission and a purpose that Heavenly Father wants me to fill. That’s why I feel this urgency. I’m still searching through the maybes…

but time waits for no man.

Did you know that if your mom takes the jam out of the fridge and sets it on the counter while waiting for a bagel to pop out of the toaster, but you wanted to get the jam out yourself, the world may come to an end and you must scream “Mom you don’t do very nice fings” and “You make me feel really, really mad.” and “DON’T SAY THE WORD!!” over and over again?

Did you know that the prospect of making your bed all by yourself while the rest of the family goes downstairs can cause your stomach to ache, your legs to shrivel up in pain, your fingers to tingle too much to move, and your back to itch, all while you melt into a heap and wail like the boogey-man is after you?

Did you know that if you’re ten months old your high chair is a torture chamber that causes ear splitting screaming?

Well, I discovered all of these things at once this morning and had three kids screaming hysterically for a good solid 45 minutes while I begged and pleaded for them to just let me eat half a bowl of Cheerios so that I could see straight and maybe even think a little bit.

Barry has decided he wants to go into work earlier so that he can come home earlier, so i get mornings to myself again. And my mom was also here visiting for the past week and a half and has sadly returned to her regular life. And we stayed up late last night and watched the BYU-idaho dance teams perform… anyway, it was a crazy morning I momentarily thought I might not survive.

And, there’s more i have to process. A family in our ward lost most of their worldly possesions in a house fire last night. So, I spent the day on the phone tracking them down, finding what they need, answering phone call after phone call of questions and offers for help…

It feels good to be busy serving and knowing that my efforts are really needed…

Anyway, so much to do… so little time. Imagine not having underwear or shoes, or even a toothbrush.

I’ve been a James Christensen fan since high school. He just captiviates my imagination– taking me to the place I loved to play as a child, a magical place. He is so graceful with the human figure. His pieces are so full of symbolism and wonder…

So, when I stumbled upon this book at the library I was so excited. Brenna wanted books about fairies. I picked this one off the shelf and what a combination– the beloved Laura Ingalls Wilder and beautiful fairies. And the fairies looked so familiar. The book is illustrated by a guy named Richard Hull, who upon further investigation teaches at BYU…so, obviously a student of James Christensen.

The poems are fun and sweet. What else could you expect from Laura?

And a fun fact I learned about her: She didn’t write the Little House series until she had grown children. That gives me hope. Someday I will have time… Someday I can be a real artist.

Right now my kids need everything I’ve got.

I was working in my spindle factory tonight (my garage/ woodshop) sanding away at drop spindle whorls, and the smell of black walnut sawdust brought back memories.

Urban Forest Woodworks. Now, that was the COOLEST job ever. My first year of college I perservered through being salad bar girl at Sizzler and a telemarketer for long distance telephone service and landed a job in a woodshop. And not just any woodshop, mind you, it was Urban Forest Woodworks. The mastermind of this opperation was George Hessenthaler. He had piles and piles of old trees out front– trees that would normally be taken to the dump. There were old elm trees, maples, whole discarded fruit orchards. He’d cut these trees into lumber and we’d make them into pretty boxes.

For hours on end we’d stand at the “puffers” (little orbital sanders clamped to a table) decked out with ear muffs and dust masks sanding away until our box tops gleamed. (There did come a point at which George’s wife Helen put her foot down and reduced the amount of puffing. It just wasn’t economical and sand the boxes at 150, 200, 220, and 320.) Heather and Melissa and I (we were girls with power tools) would sit at the putty table and talk about getting putty in your reveals (getting kissed) and laugh hysterically upstairs as we oiled boxes and finished the interiors. (I realize now that most of the hysteria probably wasn’t really funny, but who cares when you’re breathing in all the fumes?) I could tell the difference between plum and cherry, norway maple and silver maple, english walnut and black walnut. We had so much fun. There was such a bond between us college kids working there. We were a team and loved what we did. We’d have dinners and George would pull out his Dictionary and make us play some silly game he made up, then he’d cut the bread on the band saw.

I was reminiscing tonight while I puffed my drop spindle parts.

Urban Forest Woodworks has gone through some rough times since then. But I think it’s still afloat. Last I heard George was living in the shop. He’s a man with a dream.

Thanks, Captain Knuckles, for the memories. Those are surely some of the treasures of my life.

I read Laddie by Gene Stratton Porter last week. It was so wholesome and lovely and uplifting. It filled me with graditude for my family—my exemplary husband, my creative children, and my dream to educate them and grow with them. The Stratton family is my model. We will be like them, and someday Barry and I will stand in the place where we started and look out over what we’ve created and be overcome and overjoyed. It is a book I will read over and over—by myself and with my family.

is, well, um…HUGE. My phone has not stopped ringing for 3 days. Well, I guess it’s not ringing now. It just rings while I’m nursing a baby and my other 2 kids are sledding down the stairs in a laundry basket. Either that or trying to do back flips off the couch–and my kids definitely aren’t good at back flips. All the phone ringing must coincide with a crisis, screaming, and nursing a baby. I don’t answer it then, but I do eventually have to return the calls. That’s when the fighting comes into play. My children have never fought so much until I had to make lots of phone calls, so I just ignore them and try to pay attention to what the person is saying at the other end of the line as the bigger kids climb into Logan’s crib and jump up and down and demolish his mobile while screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.

So, who’s idea was this?

I feel strangely peaceful about all of it. I’m just learning the ropes. I can do this. (positive thinking there)

Today was just crazy. Barry’s alarm didn’t go off. Who knows why. He probably just forgot to turn it on–or it had to do with the fact that we had each of our 3 children in bed with us for at least part of the night and his clock got knocked down somehow. Anyway, he woke up late. Pre-Presidency that would have been no big deal, but see, we only have one car. Barry missed the bus and it was raining, so he couldn’t make his usual bike ride. He had to take the car, but I had to be at the church at 11 to meet a truck with $500 worth of humanitarian aid for a local charity, and after that deliver groceries to a sister who just had surgery. He also had a lot of work to get done… Well, he came home early so that I could have the car. $500 worth of food is A LOT of food–a lot of really heavey food. And the woman who I delivered groceries to lived WAY out in the boonies. And I left my lights on while I was putting away her groceries, so I could not leave her house when I was done. Another sister who also lives way out in the boonies rescued me and jumped my car (because I had no jumper cables in it–just 3000 lbs of food).

Then it was Enrichment night. It was wonderful. We helped clean a clinic that helps migrant workers in the area. We stocked their pantry with food, we scrubbed the floors, wrapped Christmas presents and talked with each other.

It was also very humbling. I looked around and realized that if anyone from the outside looked at our group they would have no idea I’m the one in charge. I’m to akward and quiet around people I don’t know. I can never think of cute things to say or good questions to ask to keep a conversation going. I big groups of people I can not get my mind to focus–I never remember to take roll or…anything I should. I end up just watching a lot of the time… And I also realized that I am the youngest woman in the ward.

So, who’s idea was this again?

I did more today than I normally get done in a week. (Did I mention there is a fiber-arts show I am making new spindles for this Saturday? Yeah, that’s a lot of work too.) I’m hoping by next week I’ll figure this out so that week can remain sane and my children won’t be completely starved for my attention.

Heavenly Father is in charge here.

Good thing.

and so I feel like a failure of a mother. He is just so capable. The man can do anything, or should I say everything–all at one time. And I love him for it. I have the easiest life. I don’t have to do anything and it gets done anyway, and he showers me with aprreciation as if I did do it (you know, whatever “it” is at the moment– laundry or dishes or super-human acts of calming the screaming Jonah etc. etc. etc.).

So, last night he went to the temple and I was left in charge of bedtime. Which I’m sure any decent mother is expert at, but me? No. Brenna and Jonah were running wildly, flipping lightswitches while I chased them and stuffed toothbrushes into their mouths, all the while being serenaded by the blood curdling screams of a hungry baby. I didn’t read the stories right, or sing the songs right, or fill the sippy cups up with the right temperature of water… It took me over an hour to do what Barry does in 15 minutes. But the kids were asleep when he got home. And Jonah was miraculously asleep in bed, even though he spent about 20 minutes screaming on the floor by the door because he wanted the little pink cup–which Brenna asked for first.

So Barry came home from work early today so that I could take a nap because I was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder from being left alone with my own children for ONE NIGHT.

I’m blaming the headaches on the horrible metal contraptions and rubber bands in my mouth.