Sunday, November 13, 2011

Where I'm From

This excercise has been haunting my dreams ever since I read Jett Superior's stellar version a while back. When I stumbled across Schmutzie's this moning, I knew it was time.

So here's mine.

I am from bikes, from Burton, and from so. much. sky.

I am from windraked grass and jutting limestone and soft, flaky shale and clay valleys slaking away into a wide calm river. I am from Chinook arches and a big wind that blows life and death over the foothills onto the Prairie.

I am from raucous family reunions and stolid practicality, from Hildebjorgs and Kvellos and McKenzies.

I am from the storm and the calm. From Wind'll Change and Your Face Will Stay That Way; from Books Are Awesome.

I am from the CathoLutherProdeUniWhatever, pretty much in generational order.

I am from a small town clinging to the edge of a fjord, from a green island I have never seen, from the deep forsests and open plains of a new world.  From lefse and lutefisk and Yorkshire pudding.

I am from the ones who came North trapping and hunting horse thieves; from those who rode days in bumpy carts to break an ancient Prairie. I am from workworn bodies and beautiful eyes.

I am from a simple writing desk crammed with journals going back a hundred or so years. I am from a big kitchen and lots of hands to help with the work. I am from big hugs and fierce love and workparties and feeding people too much. I am from who came before and who comes after. I am from laughter and anger and denial and acceptance and family and grace. So much grace.

Friday, April 29, 2011

April 28

Yesterday was a strange day for me. I woke up thinking of my mom - not a surprise, since it would have been her birthday. All day little things kept reminding me of her, especially seeing the first crocuses of spring.

My mother loved crocuses. I think to her, they represented a little of the home that she loved so much. She grew up on a farm in Saskatchewan, and always kept the prairie in heart, even after she moved to the city.

I learned my love of nature, especially of wild prairie, from my mother. Already I find myself passing that love on to my own children, and looking forward to teaching them all about the natural world around them.

Thanks mom, and happy birthday.  I love you, I miss you. 

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Oh Thank God it's Over! ( the Holidays, That Is..)

I  am going to pay for this blog post at 11, when Snugs wakes up to eat. I will pay for it again at 2 and 5a.m. too, but screw it. I miss my blog.

Snugs will be one whole month old tomorrow. It may well have been the craziest month of my life. If you, unlike me, are in the habit of planning your children, let me advise you not to bring home a newborn shortly before any major holiday. Doubly so if it is a second child. Sure, there are lots of arms to hold the adorable new addition, and it makes great fodder for the annual family newsletter (yes, we do), but let me tell you; it ain't worth it. You may have the most adorable Santa pictures in the world, but they won't make up for that  morning when you throw in the towel and have a complete breakdown in front of many visiting family members.

 Also, you will be in every single photo anyone takes, in all your sweatpanted, messy haired, puffy eyed glory. Sweet.

You see, things I've taken for granted about the holiday season before - a total break from routine, irregular mealtimes, tons of junk food with nary an apple or carrot in sight, relentless travel and visiting - make for strange times when it comes to the younguns. Add a newborn to the mix, and you have a recipe for disaster.

Now that the holidays are over, things around here are slowly but surely returning to a new kind of normal. Chaos is learning that the tiny interloper in my arms isn't going to take me away from him, and together we are learning a new routine. There's still lots of time for stories and wrassling and snuggling and playing together. It's all brand new for all three of us, but we're settling in. In the meantime, I'll be taking lots of deep breaths, pawning the kids off on the nearest relative, and stealing the odd nap.

And writing, whenever I can.

Stick around. It's about to get interesting.

Also, if anyone has any advice on how to stay sane with two under two, bring it. I'm all ears.