Sweet Cheese-filled Pastries. She’s Posting. (For Kim)

8 May

I really have been meaning to do this for a while. I even sat down two weeks ago to upload and post pictures of a fun day we spent at Lake Como,  but then discovered that, for some reason, the driver that makes my computer talk to my camera is missing. . . and the software is in a box in the garage somewhere.  Now I know that that’s really no excuse to not post anything, but that’s what I did. And that’s that.

But I’m here now, posting. And will perhaps return at more regular intervals in the future. One can only hope.Onto my thoughts for today and maybe a long overdue smidgen of Free Unsolicited Advice.

My lovely little family and I ventured out to the Farmer’s Market bright and early this morning, as we do almost every Saturday from May to October. When we’re living in Missoula, that is. We rode the trolley down to the end of Higgins, and hopped off, market basket in hand, bright-eyed and ready for a breakfast pastry in the fresh morning air, only to be slapped in the face by a stinging Hellgate canyon wind that- I swear- made the temperature about twenty degrees colder downtown than up on the hill.  We grabbed galettes from the nearest vendor and huddled against the old train station wall while we ate, then made a quick tour of the market stalls, decided we had enough vegetables at home where it’s warm, and hopped back on the trolley.

I don’t know about anyone else, but even a brief outing on a blustery day like today makes me more tired than if I had walked all the way to the market and back on a warm day (trust me, I’ve done this), so when we got home each of the four of us sought out our own snuggle-down, cuddle-up blustery day activities. Pillows, blankets, books, sketch pads. . . ooh, I think we’ll have soup for lunch today. Anyway, I went looking for a sketch of a dress I had drawn last night, thinking maybe I’d sew a bit, when I happened upon one of the many notebooks I keep laying about. I flipped through- nope, not the sketches I’m looking for- but there’s that story I started a while ago. . . and there are some encouraging thoughts on motherhood I wrote to myself. There’s a to-do list from a random day many months ago, and a first draft a Christmas letter I never got around to sending out. Hmm… a homeschool lesson plan, a  to- sew sketch of Laurelei’s Easter dress and some scribbles courtesy of Riley.

And that’s when it hit me (that’s right, now she’s getting there): this notebook, and the dozen or so others I have like it, are invaluable to me. Brian and I were talking with our friends a week or so ago about the journals/slash diaries we kept as kids and how we would never want our children or our grandchildren reading some of the stupid, shallow things we wrote about. And it’s true. My seventh-grade diary entry about my favorite shade of eyeshadow and the cute new boy in school? Not really anything for the future generations there. But my scribbled, hurried, here-a-little there-a-little, list-filled notebooks? I’m on those pages. As a mother and wife and writer and artist and friend. . . I’m all over them. Those are the pages I’d want my children and grandchildren to read. And maybe my blogs.

So, Free Unsolicited Advice: Write it down, sketch it out, make a list, and then keep it. It’s a little piece of who you are.

Happening in my home right now: Riley is desperately trying to order “double french fries” at Laurelei’s tea party. “Sorry, we only have banana bread. Don’t forget to use your fork,” she says.

Love, AM

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One Response to “Sweet Cheese-filled Pastries. She’s Posting. (For Kim)”

  1. kim May 9, 2010 at 9:46 pm #

    Thank you. I love you and your funny kids–your husband too.

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