Dear World (and by “world” I mean the 14 people out there who still read me),

So. So, so, so.

It is Sunday, January 4th, 2009.

We have a new president moving into the White House pretty soon.

Things are a mess in Gaza. Israel, I would like to ask you: While the rest of us are talking “hope” and “change” and “substance” in the new year, why do you feel the need to kill others? Please stop now. Obama seems to be pretty pro-Israel, pro-hawk, yes? Wanting to hunt down Bin-Laden and all. Maybe Israel is wanting to get in a few punches now, just in case they’re not allowed to later?

Unfortunately, as hopeful as I am about the new American administration, I think Israel is going to continue to be allowed to do whatever the hell they want to do. Israel = bully.

Why is it that while our nation’s schools are focused on policies of no-bullying, no physical violence, no verbal, sexual or mental abuse, no murder, certainly, the grown-ups can’t follow suit? Do as I say not as I do, aiiiiight?

The year my daughter started kindergarten, one of the first-graders wore a button everywhere that said

PUNCHING

with a black line drawn through it.

“Who gave you that, K?” I asked him.

He was all, aw shucks, smiley. “My teacher.”

Smart teacher.

No punching. Just love. And hope for a better world.

I have been meditating, writing in my journal and studying every day. It has helped with the chaos.

After a long, sometimes bumpy winter break (ice, snow, rain, snow, snow, sunshine, flooding, ice), we are heading back to school and work tomorrow. I’m thinking 6 a.m. should be pretty fun, especially since I’ve been sleeping until 9, 10, 10:30 a.m. every day for almost three weeks. Whatever it takes, that’s what I’m saying.

I saw on the news that the Estacada Library underwent a ton of damage (to books, computers, building) during the most recent bout of flooding. If you have a few dollars to spare, I know they would appreciate it.

Estacada Public Library
825 NW Wade
Estacada, OR 97023

peace,

wm

Look for Mother Maybelle and the Carter Sisters in the background on the second song.

Happy weekend, y’all.

love,

wm

“We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.” — Vixen

I am such a follower of Ms. Vixen. She makes me laugh my ass off, she makes me cry, she moves me. She deals with stuff and she moves on. She doesn’t forget, ever, but she is constantly moving forward. I can appreciate that. She and her family have been through some tough times this year, and I send them so much love and a ton of best wishes for this new year.

A number of my friends and family members have gone through some exceptionally awful times this year. They have learned things I wish they had never learned. Never had to learn. I wish them peace, and happiness, in this upcoming Year of the Ox.

Here is what I just found out about our friends, the Oxen:

The Ox is the sign of prosperity through fortitude and hard work. This powerful sign is a born leader, being quite dependable and possessing an innate ability to achieve great things. As one might guess, such people are dependable, calm, and modest. Like their animal namesake, the Ox is unswervingly patient, tireless in their work, and capable of enduring any amount of hardship without complaint.

Ox people need peace and quiet to work through their ideas, and when they have set their mind on something it is hard for them to be convinced otherwise.

Maybe this means a year of calm? Peace and quiet and lots of good work? I hope so. I hope the American war against Iraq ends soon. I hope we learn to leave the rest of the world be and focus on what we need to do to heal at home.

I wish all of you the best, my readers. Look into your heart, decide what you really want. What you can’t live without. What you need to change. What you can’t change. Find some peace and quiet. Work on what you need to do. Please get going. We don’t have all the time in the world, here. Sometimes I wish we did; other times I’m thankful we don’t. Count your blessings, every day.

I have been wondering a lot lately about where I’m going with my writing, my blog, my career. I like my new job. I more than like it — I have found myself a career and something I want to do until I retire, which (I hope) won’t happen anytime soon. I’m thinking twenty more years, then, after that, I’ll volunteer at a library for as long as I can. Are you hearing me out there? I found something I will be happy with for the rest of my life.

Whew.

All of you who said that English degree would never do anything for me? Nyah nyah nyah. I love books. I love getting kids reading. I love it.

I am satisfied with the work, the students, almost everything about it. But I need to earn my master’s degree, and I need to find a way, like Hermione in “Harry Potter,” to turn back time so I can be two places at once. And (for obvious reasons) I can’t write about work here, so you miss the funny stories and all that. So I am not all yours anymore.

As my kids get older, I do not want to share as much about our private lives. They’ve asked me not to, and I respect that. But this is a domestic blog, at its heart, and so… So, so, so. What next? Recipes and book reviews, hair tips and sex advice. Political stuff and news about the Nekkid Neighbors. (Although their kids are getting older, too, and maybe won’t want their crazy tales told by their wacky neighbor.)

I don’t like some of the strange e-mails and nasty comments that I’ve received. I love the funny comments and sweet e-mails I’ve received. I mostly ignore the rest and delete as needed. I’ve gone back and marked some of my older posts private.

We’ll see where the new year takes us all, eh? I do plan to spend a lot of time studying, playing with my kids and husband, working hard. I take my work seriously and hope you understand why I’m not always over here, or stopping by your blogs as regularly as I used to. I miss my blogworld, but the “real” world is pretty cool, too. (How can you say anything is more “real” than the blogs though? This is raw and pure.)

And, since I let Vixen have the first words, I’ll let her have the last words, too. Happy 2009, y’all.

nancy

“I wish that your every dream for 2009 come true. That you find yourself surrounded by friends, laughter, and good times. I wish that your every cup runneth over financially, romantically, spiritually, and creatively. That good health be your faithful companion, peace your guarded ally, and love your perpetual guide.”

(OK, can’t resist one more song from “White Christmas.” Just watched the movie again this week — Rosemary Clooney’s commentary on the DVD is frickin’ hilarious. What a class act. I love that girl. wm)

Hockey God is International Stud.

But you already knew that.

First, the Starbucks bloggers are all abuzz over him. So you knew who had to be next, don’t you?

That’s right. The French, they love my husband. (Or, would you prefer it translated?)

Of course the French love Steve. ?Por que no? Oh, wait. That’s Spanish. But say it out loud and it sounds the same in French.

What’s not to love, for reals? All of this coffee and love and international patter reminds me of the Planet Nomadics, when they visited last summer. They stopped by for my birthday, and Elliot missed the singing (in French and English) and candles.

“They sang en Franzosisch!” I told him.

He looked at me, perplexed, “They sang in German?”

Ba-da-BUMP! Ha ha ha ha heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Happy Monday, y’all.

Internets, if I’d been born rich instead of good looking, I’d be running off to Plum Village in southwestern France to study with Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk and visionary, and I would also hire Stephen Viscusi, “America’s Workplace Guru,” to be my personal coach.

Then Beth Pattillo and I would start a Home for Wayward Girls and Knitters, and I’d be the head librarian and yarn gatherer.

Sigh.

Yes, that is what I would do.

But since I cannot, I will content myself with their books. “Sweetgum Knit Lit Society” is a gem of a book (pssst — “The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love” is skedded for release in June). Meet Eugenie, Ruth, Esther, Merry, Camille and their reluctant teenage knitter, Hannah. (WaterBrook Press, 2008, 342 pages, $14.) Look for Ms. Pattillo over here.

Mr. Viscusi’s book, subtitled “4 Simple Strategies to Ride Out the Rough Times and Come Out On Top At Work,” is a compact volume that goes expand-o once it hits your brain. I like this guy. I like his anecdotes, his chop-chop way of writing, his take on things. Get a copy of this book, even if you don’t think you need it. (Collins Business, 2008, 171 pages, $19.95.) Look for more tips from Mr. Viscusi at bulletproofyourjob.com.

Now. Mr. Hanh is someone who my ministers at church quote often, and I am always moved by his words, his philosophies. I finally picked up a copy of “Creating True Peace: Ending Violence in Yourself, Your Family, Your Community, and the World.” (Free Press, 2003, 208 pages, $14.) It is… I do not know how to describe this book. It has brought me some sorely-needed peace. It has brought on tears, and smiles, and a roadmap. I am always looking for roadmaps. We are all so in need of them. I’m tired of refusing to stop to ask for directions — sometimes I need them so badly.

I admit, when I read the title of the book, I thought (flip, as always), “Sure, let’s get going on that.” Funny thing is — he does. He has been working on this for decades now.

Dear Reader (he begins), as you read this book, please do so with the understanding that peace is already here and now. It is already a part of you. Please read these pages slowly and calmly, so that the very act of reading is peace. Remember, the practice of peace always begins right here, right now.

It does.

You will find more from Mr. Hanh at Plum Village.org.

Reviewed today:

The #1 reason Tom Petty rules: He understands women. The #2 reason: He is baffled and confused by them.

happy winter, happy solstice, happy happy happiest holidays to you and yours.

we’re still snowed in, but it’s melting, and no big storms are predicted. it’s alright.

peace & love,

wacky mommy

I am feeling a little claustrophobic, being stuck inside. I go out once in awhile, but honestly? I don’t find playing in the snow with the children and husband to be all that relaxing. I love them dearly, I would die for them, but I don’t want to die because of them, know what I’m saying?

Probably not.

Let’s just say, I’m a fraidy cat. Also, I don’t like to be cold. The three of them (plus Miss Honey Butt’s Daughter, who has moved in for the week) are risk-takers and daredevilish and “pfffffffffft pffffffffffft pffffffffffffffft thump thump thump…” (that’s the sound of me, sucking my breath in, heart pounding).

Also, it seems like one of us always ends up with a nosebleed or a head injury. We had to walk to Plaid Pantry ‘pacifically to buy 1) more butter for baking and 2) another box of band-aids.

Still looking for peace. Still trying to avoid chaos. (ha ha ha arggggggggggggggghhh…) Still trying to get the house clean, just in case we do end up having Christmas Day over here, as planned. It’s not going that well, what with the wet mittens and boots and snow gear strung from one end of the house to the other.

I haven’t been able to do the last-minute shopping, and I’ve been so busy the last couple of months that it is all last-minute shopping. (Not the way I usually operate — I’m a planner. Who am I kidding. I’m an OCD over-planner.)

Go look at Byron Beck’s new blog — he’s living it up with Anthony and Storm so I don’t have to. Not that I wouldn’t love to live it up with them but you know. That would involve leaving the house.

Anyway.

These are the closing lines from “A Child’s Christmas in Wales.” You’ll like them. (Thank you, L. This is beautiful.)

Peace.

wm

“Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the light in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.”
-Dylan Thomas

ps — i’m eating half an acorn squash with butter, salt and pepper and mango chutney. The girls put their hair into matching pigtails and are baking chocolate crinkles (this recipe calls for oil, not butter, so it’s a good one for those times you don’t feel like walking to Plaid). Pittsburgh Pens and Buffalo Sabres game is tied up 2-2. Have achieved zen. No chaos, except on the ice. It’s a wonderful life.

We have more than a foot of snow here in scenic North Portland, Oregon, where every yard looks like a picture postcard. I cannot speak for the rest of town, as we are unable to go anywhere to see for ourselves. From what I’m seeing on TV, it looks pretty out of hand…

Just kidding. That’s from a couple of years ago. It says Seattle and Queen Anne Hill in comments but I believe it was actually in Portland — isn’t that Civic Stadium there on the right? I taped it, too, cuz they kept playing it in a loop for about two weeks.

Let’s be careful out there.

and it’s… still snowing.

and a wonderful life.

xoxx

wm

IT SNOWED HERE! Real snow, not this little “half-inch of powder and Portland shuts down” kinda snow.

Real snow.

A whole foot of it.

Oh, wait. Now it’s raining.

We’re screwed.

So far I have baked the following: Russian Tea Cakes, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Chocolate Crinkles, Rainbow Cookies.

And so far, we have not run out of vodka… wooooooooooooooooooo!

It’s a wonderful life.

xxox

wm

ps I had mimosas at Pause for lunch can you tell? Wacky Girl and her darling friend-from-across-the-street had Chocolate Decadence. We had fun walking there and back, wooooooooooot! Santa will be here in four little days.