Monthly Archive: April 2010

Iola Mae & Pansies

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Pansies, without fail, make me think of my grandma Iola. She loved the little faces on each flower.

When I worry about my potted plants, I am reminded of Grandma, too. When it would storm, Grandma would pull every last potted plant off her patio and into her living room. She wasn’t taking any chances with foul weather. As you can imagine, during a Nebraska spring those plants were often taking respite in her apartment. She had a lot of pots. It was quite a chore and you weren’t necessarily pleased when you drove up to see an empty walkout porch. That meant you had to help haul all the precious plants back out! Ha.

God bless my artsy, intensely creative grandmother! You bet she’s oohing and aahing over the colors in glory right now. She loved Jesus.

Proud Moment

Today is a banner day.

My child can [drumroll, please] read. Read! R-E-A-D, READ!!!

Though I love words, they are failing me now as I’m having difficulty describing how much it means to me that Livia is starting to read. Really, the whole thing blows my mind.

We’ve been reading to this kiddo since she was placed in our arms and we’ve never stopped. I signed her up for the library’s summer reading program before she even cared about it and I read competitively to her that season. (And the next year, too. Silly competitive book-lovin’ mama.) Only recently has Livia taken to flipping through books on her own; she wasn’t really the kind of baby who simply adored books. She did read her first word at 3.5 years: b-o-o-k. And we were ecstatic over that.

I ordered the Bob books from Scholastic recently and we cracked them open today. Well, guess who is ready to read? My kid. My five-almost-six year old. Sounding out words, stringing letters together, remembering the new words and reading them correctly the second time around.

Sheer awesomeness. It’s a whole new world.

One more thing. Livia and I wrote our own story—and she read it at least five times today. Here it is. And, sheerly for purposes of geographical translation, “pop” means “Coke” to all you Southerners. ; )

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Spring at the Zoo

There are new things at the zoo this year…

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And old things too.

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We had fun playing with the fastest two year old on the planet…

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And her baby brother, a bonafide member of the Two Finger Suckers Club. Just like Liv.

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Happy Earth Day, and happy spring!

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Kitchen Love

What kitchen tool(s) would you never want to give up? What makes you grateful each time you use it?

Right now I’m looking at my mom’s old melon ball scoop with great devotion. I rescued it from the giveaway pile and I love it. Easy apple coring makes for a happy apple-eating family.

Break Me Off a Piece of That Kit Kat Bar

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I want a day off.

No pouring drinks or cereal. No officiating between dog and child. No finding clothes for other people.

Yes to sleep—lots of sleep—and a good book and the internet and maybe a little shopping. A definite yes to the carton of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer.

Yep, I am feeling selfish today. And I’m not quite sure how to get over myself. Such is life. You do what you’ve got to do.

For now, I need to love on my kiddo a bit. A good hug is helpful for everyone.

The Young Redbud

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The magnificent purple trees you see around town right now are redbuds. Some are quite large, but most are smallish trees. And they are absolutely gorgeous this time of year.

A few years back, our friend Karma gave us a teeny tiny redbud. It looked like a weed of a tree and was so small we had to mark it in the garden so that we wouldn’t accidentally step on it or pull it up. But Karma told us that this tree would grow successfully—and she was right.

Finally our tree, now as tall as the garage, has actual red buds on it. It’s taken three years (or it is four?), but we’re seeing the trademark blossoms. And we’re enjoying them like the proud parents we are.

I love this season. Have I said that before? ; )

I Won’t Grow Up

Her arms kept spasming at her sides in excitement. First we waited for friends, then waited for the lights to go down, then waited for the actors to walk onstage. It was almost more than she could bear. But then the orchestra began to play, and the Darling children were in the stage lights, and her attention was caught.

I tend to get nervous when I see high school performances. Fourteen years of growth is gone in an instant and I’m quivering inside, just like I did before acting in my own high school’s shows. But tonight was different. Tonight my attention was focused on my child and I sat back and enjoyed the show like any other patron. And when Peter Pan made his entrance at center stage, literally flying in amidst sparkly fairy dust, I gasped like a kid—it was awesome. And Tinker Bell? Brilliant. Clearly, I’ve never seen the Peter Pan the musical before because I believe the staging was like this all along, but Tinker Bell was so well done. For the life of me I couldn’t guess how the director would pull off a pint-size fairy, but they didn’t have to. Tinker Bell was a little green light that “spoke” in xylophone-like tones. To further the magic, toys and drawers and dollhouses were rigged to fall over, open and close, and light up every time Tink came near. Great, great idea. And so well-executed by the crew tonight. The kids around me fully believed—or let themselves delight in believing for a few hours—that the green light was Tinker Bell. Livia’s friend Amani, during the audience-participation moment where clapping is needed to keep Tinker Bell alive, looked absolutely horrified at the small “dying” blinking light in Peter Pan’s hands. Peter begged the audience to believe that fairies were real, and Amani’s passionately concerned face was something to behold. Fortunately, the audience wholeheartedly believed, Tink lived to see another day, and Amani looked greatly relieved.

The student who played Peter Pan was a find. He could sing, act and fly like nobody’s business. He had the gregarious youthful charm needed to play the boy who refused to grow up, but he carried the show like a man. Bravo! My personal favorite, though—and perhaps the favorite of many others—was Captain Hook. It was hard to believe that the same actor who played the droll nincompoop Mr. Darling also played hilarious, weenie-with-bravado Caption Hook. Why are the best lines and moments given to villains, I wonder? At any rate, Hook was wonderful tonight. Also worth a huge mention were the ensembles. Pirates, Indians, Lost Children, all—the scenes where ensembles sang and dance were the best of the entire program. The choreography was phenomenal (Courtney Piccoli, whose name I’ve seen on the Lincoln arts scene time and time again) and the Indian/Lost Children dance number was my absolute favorite.

The show is at Lincoln Southwest High School and I believe it runs through next week. Support the arts—and the awesome Koenig kids who graced the stage tonight—and go see a magical musical.

The Doggers

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This is my friend Shiloh. Say hello, everyone!

Shiloh likes food that falls to the floor, randomly licking his owners’ legs, and running like a crazed animal around the yard. He understands the words “kennel,” “treat,” “food,” and “outside.” And even though he still sticks his head in the bathroom trashcan for the express pleasure of shredding tissues, I think he’s great.

You know who else is great? My husband, the dog trainer. Without him, Shiloh would run the household. (I’m slowly/lamely/poorly working on my Alpha skills.)

A Rich Inner World

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I walked into Livia’s room yesterday to liberate her from quiet time, and there she was, on her bed, fully clothed and now also in her robe and slippers. She was intently involved in placing important items into a little denim purse. First, the plastic Wubbzy characters, then a tiny pad of paper and two pennies. Evidence of play was scattered around her room. She had obviously done some shopping as her little red shopping cart had been pulled from the closet and it looked like the stroller had been employed as well.

This, this type of scene, I adore. While I oftentimes have no idea what Livia is thinking, I can see the effects of her active imagination. Why the robe? Why the slippers? And where did she unearth that denim purse? I don’t know, but I love witnessing it.

Sunset

Sometimes it takes awhile to get going, to get those creative juices up and running instead of cowering in fear. Sometimes it just takes a sunset, the rays deliciously sliding across the earth towards my front windows. I pick up my camera and play with the light. Even plastic white mini-blinds turn radiant in the warmth and I use everything at my disposal to create my own art. My own joy. My own moments of awareness and delight. I look through my lens and create something new, something old, something real and something imaginary.

I do it because I have to. And because I want to. And because, in doing so, I find life.

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