tollipop

hello

It's been recital central these past few weeks.

Also, I broke my yellow streak.

I'm feeding the girls a leafy surprise.

And last night Izzy brought tears to my eyes.

 

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Dear reader, my apologies for such a pathetic rhyme.  I'm tired for some reason. And it's a blustery day.  The effects of wind plus fatigue upon an already scattered mind equal bad poetry every time.  

It's a scientifically proven fact.

You know, I often wonder who you are. Who is reading Tollipop?  Every now and then I get an email from someone who reads this blog, mentioning she's been reading it for awhile yet never left a comment.

If you are such a person, I'm interested to know more about you!  Won't you please introduce yourself?  Tell me your favorite book, your favorite treat, your favorite color.  Tell me how things look in your corner of the world...

Lately I've connected or reconnected with some kindred spirits who've contacted me through Tollipop: a sweet high school friend, a wise and luminous girl from my newlywed days, and a woman living in Wales who has the very same name as I do (prior to marriage) plus a daughter named Izzy, the same age as mine.  

Saying hello is a lovely thing.  

It makes this little tea party one of the bright moments of my day.  

diversity

I sometimes wonder if this blog doesn't give the impression only girls exist in the Tollipop world.  

To be sure, girls are well represented in this space.  They are the main focus group. They are the overriding demographic.

But there is one guy in the picture.  He fits in perfectly.  His vote counts.  

And we can hardly get enough of him: he is super amazing, all the way around.

magpie

Dear reader, I've been wearing this outfit for the past five days now.  And don't think I'm anywhere near finished with it yet!

No one's made a comment, no one's batted an eye.  No one's pointed out the impropriety of weeding flower beds or scrubbing bathroom floors while wearing a skirt and saffron yellow beads.

Well, "scrubbing" might be a tad dramatic.  But I did wash them on my hands and knees.

Every morning when I wake up I think: today's the day I'm not going to wear these beads.  And then I turn around and they're on me again!

The beads are from Target.  I was there a few nights ago making practical purchases, such as laundry detergent and lipsmackers, when a flash of yellow caught my eye.  I drew near, mesmerized.  Did I fondle them?  Hard to say, but next thing I knew there was a strand around my neck and I stared at my reflection, listening to the beads rustle as I swayed back and forth.  

I don't know.  I often remind myself happiness cannot be found in the accumulation of things.  

But a splash of color. A mesmerizing, saffron hue.

It goes to the pleasure part of my brain, it really does. 

And it's been there five days running.

details

Look what I discovered on my trail run today!  A shimmering green beetle, perfect in its detail and deathly repose.

There was nothing to do but take it home in my sweaty hand.  

If you are familiar with this blog, you may have already noticed my penchant for cherishing lifeless insects, especially the magnificent ones.  In fact, if you look carefully at the background of the picture of my herb garden below, there's a speck on the windowsill which is actually a dead bumblebee I couldn't bear to throw away.

Why do these things fill me with such wonder and happiness?   

I think it's because something in their design beckons to me.  Without wanting to offend or invite the derision of those with differing opinions, I must offer that I see God's hand in this tiny insect.  

I believe He created the earth and all things upon it.  I don't know how He did it.  I suspect it was not by waving a wand within the period of a traditionally defined week, but rather through a gradual and masterful harnessing of universal scientific laws.

I believe this through simple faith.  Beyond this, I am compelled to acknowledge an intelligent presence at the origin of creation, as experience has shown me nothing ever gets made without an organizing force behind it.  You know?  Like, my girls' rooms never get cleaner on their own, to put it in very simple terms. Dinner doesn't just magically happen.  As I make things myself, whether it is having babies, composing music, writing, drawing, or building a friendship, I am impressed by the thought, effort, even personality which goes into a really good creation.  

This is the heart of the matter as to why the beetle resonates so deeply: there is something about this intricate bug which awakens in me a closer feeling to God.  There is something about it which makes me feel I better understand an aspect of His nature, and that somehow He understands an aspect of mine.  I recognize something familiar: that we share, if I may say so, a common element of appreciation.

I think He knows how such a tiny, perfect creature would bring me no end of wonder and delight.  I actually think that matters to Him.  And reflecting on this, sensing it is true, brings greater joy and gratitude to my path on this beautiful earth.  

wishing you a lovely weekend

Late last night I was working at the piano when Izzy wandered into the room, picked up her violin and started to play...which was clever of her, given she knew she'd incurred my displeasure by not being in bed.  

 
I recorded this little clip, which she asked me to send to a few of my friends.  I was touched that Izzy feels she has a friendship with my friends, meaning over the years they have taken the time to express an interest in her whenever they cross paths and as a result, a connection has blossomed.  

Isn't that how life should be?  Being friends with people of all ages?  

Beyond that, the desert is still beautiful.

Caroline is still sleuthing with a fellow redhead.

Sophie may still be found in the gym.

My husband is still making brilliant pizzas.

And I'm still thinking about rabbits.  Pillowy soft rabbits who take everything in, who have a quiet, knowing way, and by their presence make you feel calmer, quieter, as if you are okay and everything is going to be all right.

track record

The season of recitals is upon us, dear reader.  So far I have forgotten only one event and shown up for another exactly one week ahead of schedule.

In other words: business as usual.

And you?  

How would you rate your job performance these days?

time travel

Dear reader, I finally figured out a puzzle that has been confounding me for ages: namely, how to get from point A to point B in the twinkling of an eye.

Bring a good friend with you.  

Over the weekend my friend and I made a quick trip out of town.  All by ourselves. We left early one morning and returned late the next night.  I mean, on paper that is what happened. But in some ways it feels we distilled 48 hours into one thrill-packed roller coaster ride, over almost as soon as it began. Then again, every moment was filled with such fun that the experience lingers on in my mind as if it is somehow still happening.  

We wandered through rooms filled with dusty old doors, old chairs, old toys. 

I found my prom dress, the one I would have worn if I would have been asked to prom.

It may be this discovery set me back a little in the healing process, but don't worry: I'm not bitter.

We ate here.  Twice.  

Coconut sticky rice gelato.  Yes.  I will go to prom with you.

We drove through some of the loveliest neighborhoods I've ever seen.  They were so idyllic it felt as if we were in a dream.  

We had bread pudding for breakfast from this magical place.  

Bread pudding for breakfast?  

No one was the boss of us. 

We walked through pretty places and looked at pretty things.  We admired, we debated, we ate more gelato.  And through it all, we talked.  I think we pretty much talked non stop.  We talked about ourselves, our children, our families, about life, spiritual matters, social issues.  We laughed.  We got off on tangents.  We forgot the original point of our conversation, suspending relevance in a way that made perfect sense to us. 

And when we pulled into my driveway late Saturday night, we were still talking with such urgency we actually sat there awhile longer.   

I guess this is the secret to time travel, and perhaps it is something you want to use judiciously in case time vanishes altogether: fill it with people you love.  

But how can one be judicious about that?  How can one parcel out the heart?  I think you just have to go with it.  Love as many people as you can, let time roll on as it may.

That is the beauty of memory.  Doors, chairs, and toys may grow old and get covered with dust, but in the mind there is a place where moments can be summoned, fresh and new, and where the pleasure of a happy day may live on forever as if time stood still. 

happy mother's day

To all women: I wish you a beautiful day filled with a deep sense of self awareness and worth.  

I am thinking of my mother today, of her many beautiful gifts and how she blazed a trail through life unlike anything I've ever seen. She was strong, industrious, capable, intelligent, wise, humble, faithful, creative, selfless, steady, and endowed with an ability to love that did not run for cover, ever.  I love and miss her deeply, and know someday I will see her again.    

I am fortunate to have many wonderful women in my life.  I have a mother-in-law who is in a league of her own.  She is an amazing example in every respect and I am so grateful for her influence upon me and my daughters.

I love my sisters and my sisters-in-law.  I love my dear friends.  I love the little girls who used to be in my Sunday school class and who still come sit on my lap during church.  I smile when they come, because I've often remarked that after having had three girls of my own, I wish someone would just hand me three more.  And nearly every Sunday, that is exactly what happens.  

I love being a woman.  I love the experiences that come to me through the roles I've been given as an individual, a daughter, a sister, a wife, mother, aunt, and friend.  

I love the beauty I see in this world, how deeply I care about people and how this capacity to care can bring both great happiness and inevitable suffering.  I try not to mind.  I try to embrace it all and feel that my happiness is made more poignant by sorrow, and that sorrow is made more bearable by the sense of wonder I feel at being alive on this earth.

I hope you know I consider you a friend, dear reader.  In most cases I believe we don't technically know each other.  But then again we do.  There are many similiarities in the human experience.  There are many common goals.  And my heart seems to stretch far and wide when I think about people everywhere, wondering who they are, wondering about their stories, wishing I could understand better and help better and make more of a difference.  In some way I sense this quality is an attribute both of myself as an individual and as a woman. 

I hope you have a lovely day.  I hope you sense something deeply meaningful and important within yourself.  One belief I hold dear is the worth of each person, how great it must be, how much each one matters.  I hope you feel it, dear reader.  I hope it stays with you through thick and thin.

Happy, happy Mother's Day. xoxo

go sophie and her dad

 

Last night my husband asked me to preview a montage of highlights he compiled from Sophie's recent club volleyball season.  

I sat down and was all: Oh my!  You set this to music!

And he was all:  Yeah. 

And then I was all: Oh, and you included replays.  In slow motion.

And he was all: I know.  Isn't it awesome?!

And I was all: Yes, you are.

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p.s. I don't know if this video will be of particular interest to the demographic who reads Tollipop, unless we are talking about the demographic who happens to be my little brother in Washington, D.C.  

So in particular I am including it for him. 

lately

Dear reader, how are you doing?  How are things in your life?  I want the 30 minute response, not the one word one.

Here are a few snapshots of what we've been up to lately.  They only reveal a moment in time, but these are the moments I want to remember.  

Lots of volleyball.

Lots of cello and polka dots.

My husband, the pizza artisan.

Izzy and her favorite drink.

Composing music is more than just sprinkling dots on a page, franchement.

My smoothie pal.

Perfect weekend movie party: Tin Tin, sour gummies, snuggling. 

We can't get enough of baby cousins.

Or grandpas.

Salads,

Sun, sisters, and gelato...feels like summer is on the way.

Actually, I want the 40 minute response.  Plus a fizzy lemonade.

I hope you are doing well.