the ways of the spirit

"Mommy, I love you as big as God can be." -- Nick, age 4

Today, we celebrated Penetcost. It's a time of being especially attentive to the ways the Holy Spirit enters our hearts and interacts with us. It's a time to be watchful for the ways grace comes, to be ready for the signs so we can accept the gift when it is presented to us.

I have heard so many in my life express confusion over the Holy Spirit's role and reality. God and Jesus seem reachable, but what about the elusive Holy Spirit that flits in and out of our lives? How do we make sense of something that comes to us mainly through whispers?

But it's not only through whispers that the Holy Spirit appears. Sometimes, it's through the lively voice of a friend who brings encouragement; or the vivacious chatter of a child offering some sweet, spontaneous words of affection; or through a spouse's tender words of unexpected gratitude. These are all the ways of the Holy Spirit, who finds plenty of means to make the intangible real.

As cantor of the evening Mass, I felt especially privileged to have an upfront view of the Confirmation of a new parishioner. The Holy Spirit definitely was there, as evidenced from the joy on this man's face; a man who meandered for a while before returning to the church of his beginnings. From where I stood, I also could see my youngest, who doesn't often hear me in this song-leading capacity, standing on a chair and stretching upward to catch a glimpse of me singing. The Holy Spirit emanated in the yearning of my son to make a connection with the source of the song. Earlier, my husband and I got together with our Marriage Encounter group, gathering for a turkey dinner and celebrating ten years of convening to help strengthen one another in the marital journey. The Holy Spirit was weaving in and out of us the entire time as we reaffirmed our vocation of marriage and took part in important discussions. And again, the Holy Spirit was present at the graduation party of a friend's daughter as I looked at pictures on a garage wall of her chubby, adorable self as an infant, then hugged a tall, dark-haired beauty who has been through so much but now walks in hope and grace.

Some ask, where is the Holy Spirit? The Holy Spirit is absolutely everywhere, alive and lively, seen by our hearts if not always with our eyes. All we have to do is be tuned in, to interpret events of vitality and love for what they are: the ways of the Holy Spirit, the thread of grace that uplifts and emboldens and brings us into each new day.

May you discover new ways of the Holy Spirit intervening in your life this week. If you feel bold enough to share, please do!

unfinished business

In the mind of my newly-turned 9-year-old, everything this week has led up to this:

All good things must come to an end, right? (So much for the pretty pool party cake!) Those were some hungry girls, alright.

It's been an extraordinarily busy week. And if you don't believe me, just ask junior brown eyes here:

Going...going...and...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

7 quick takes friday (vol. 10)

I skipped a week of Quick Takes because, though the takes are supposed to be quick, posting them has proven to be more time-consuming for me than the normal posting. However, I enjoy both trying to come up with a summation of my week and reading the postings of other quick-takers, so, I'll keep going with them, perhaps every other week or so to vary things. Below, find this week's version. For others' takes, head over to Conversion Diary.

---1---

VISIT TO THE RED RIVER ZOO: I had a fabulous time Wednesday taking part in last-week activities with the kids' classes. In the afternoon, I followed the yellow school bus and third-graders to the Red River Zoo. Our local zoo is fairly small and still growing, but it was an absolutely perfect day for a stroll through the grounds, and I captured some nice moments of the animals. Here's a sneak peek:

This is a golden pheasant. My daughter Elizabeth was as taken with it as I was. Her thoughts: "It's like a painting that got up and started walking." I agree. Brilliantly amazing.

And this duck was discovered by one of the kids quite by accident. It was on the inside of a log that was part of the grounds' natural decorations. The finder of the duck is an especially astute girl. Something about the log caught her attention; sure enough, there was a duck inside! It was very hard to see so I'm glad I caught it at just the right angle to share it with you here.

For a glimpse of the rest, go here.

---2---

MOM'S DAY LEFTOVER: Today, while looking through a pile of "things to be sorted" in my bedroom, my daughter pulled out a card my kindergartener had presented me on Mother's Day. She was giggling as she read it, and I wanted to share his words with you.

The card, which was designed by his teacher, is headed: My Special Mom. The first parts of the lines (Italics) are provided; the kids fill in the blanks in the second half (bold). [I'll add commentary in brackets.] Wish you could see the writing for real, but for simplicity's sake and for better readability, I'm going to just type it out:

My mom is the most wonderful mom in the whole world. She's as pretty as her smiyl. [Ahh, thanks!]

She weighs 89 pounds and she is 49 feet tall. [Wow!]

Her favorite food is salad. [He used a backwards "s" -- love it.]

In the old days when my mom was little she used to read. [True -- that is one of the things I did.]

I think she looks funny when she tickles me. [Really?]

I know my mom is really angry when she yells. [Who? Me? Ooops!]

I wish my mom would Go to Target with me every day.

I wouldn't trade me mom for 1,000,000,000 dollars. [Ah, shucks...really? Thanks Adam!]

And the best part, at the end of the card in huge letters: Mom I Love You [Makes it all worth it, really.]

---3---

WE'RE GOING CAMPING! I finally talked my husband into trying to rough it for real this summer. He's not one to stray far from air-conditioned sleeping quarters, but after some gentle coaxing, he's agreed. I am looking forward to the adventure ahead. Not sure when it will take place, but I've got my work cut out for me planning the bulk of this outing for the seven of us. More to come!

ROXANA IS BACK HOME: About a month ago, I solicited prayers for Roxana Saberi, a local gal who was imprisoned in Iran, where she'd been working, on charges of being a spy. I'm glad Roxana has been freed. She will have much to share with us in the coming month and years. Go here for more.

--4--

SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER: This means homework, piano lessons and soccer games give way to kids on bikes tearing around the neighborhood, drippy popsicles, s'more time out back in the evenings, hanging on the trampoline with the neighbors, later bedtime/later rising, the smell of mosquito spray and sunscreen, more walks with friends in the great outdoors, afternoons at the pool and, yes, a little more tension at home too as we try to move through our world together for many more hours than during the school year. I'm sure I'll be calling on Calgon more than a few times, but there will be good times, too, I'm sure!

--5--

"BABY" TURNS 9: Because she has such a long name, Elizabeth was referred to as "Baby" for her first couple years of life. The older two kids used to fight daily over who was going to sit next to "Baby" in the van. One day, "Baby" wanted to chime in. She was not quite 2, and, all bundled in her winter gear, yelled loudly at the door of the garage: "I want to sit by Baby!!!" (She didn't know she was Baby; only that she'd been hearing this tired argument her entire life.) On Tuesday, "Baby" turned 9, and this weekend's her double party with her classmate who shares her birthday week. It's going to be her first pool party!

--6--

READ OF THE WEEK: After numerous trips to the library to check out Kelly Corrigan's The Middle Place, only to find out it was still out on a three-week loan, I finally bought it with a Barnes & Noble gift certificate my oldest daughter earned and then agreed to give me in a swap for a new shirt. I love memoir, and so far, I'm finding it interesting and well told; a story about familial love beyond anything else.

--7--

RUMMAGE SALE: I have never taken part in a rummage/yard/garage sale -- ever. I've just never felt brave enough, not to mention, organized enough or crazy enough. Seems it's a lot more work than what it might be worth. That said, this year I decided that if I'm ever to motivate my kids to get rid of their junk (and motivate myself to get rid of mine), giving them the carrot of "you will make money from selling whatever you don't use anymore" could help them/us clear out the extras. And there are plenty of extras around here. More comes in than goes out. So, we're going to give it a try. I've summoned the collaboration efforts of a couple neighbors. I will report the results soon. Suffice it to say, for now, that as I drag items out of the garage and put them in a "sell" pile, they are finding new life and love in the hands and hearts of my kids. Hmmm...we'll see how much clearing we really do. It's going to be harder than it seemed, I'm afraid, but I am determined to remove the weeds that have collected in our familial garden. I'll post the results when they come in.

Have an amazing summer. Stop back again. In the meantime, if you're a new reader, and even if you're not, please leave a comment so I know who has stopped by. Introduce yourself, if you're feeling extra generous. I love to meet readers.

school outings: a day in pictures

Today, in outings with the kids' classes, I was reminded of God's softness:

And artistry:

And majesty:

And sense of humor:

Who could believe this was all one big accident?

milestone marathon

Today, one daughter turned 9:

The other graduated from elementary school:

They battled off on and throughout the afternoon over who deserved the best treatment on their special day(s). Each had time in the spotlight, but they didn't like having to share. In the end, birthday girl ended up in the emergency room of the same hospital in which she was born nine years ago. All is well at this hour, though she might have a delayed start in the morning because of it. I will be rising with everyone else, and hitting the road as a chaperone for some last-week-of-the-school-year activities.

It was a busy day with lots of highs and a few lows. At the end of it all, my mind drifts backward to when times were a little simpler:

Someday, you will be friends again, dear daughters. I am on a mission to help make it so. Until then, this is part of the deal, I realize, your need to create separate and distinct identities, which always involves a little friction. But, for better or worse, you are bonded together in a blessed way, forever...

And there's one thing that will remain constant always: my forever love for both of you.

an "other" kind of weekend

This weekend, the soccer balls stayed still, the jerseys and shin guards remained folded and unused. It was an "other" kind of weekend filled not so much by my own kids' activities, but by the accomplishments of others in our lives; a wonderful couple days of being inspired by the life-altering milestones of friends.

On Friday evening, I met with my 9-year-old godson to go over details of Saturday, the big day, the double whammy: Confirmation and First Eucharist in one fell swoop (of the Holy Spirit, that is). For those who question Confirmation at such a young age, I assure you, I've watched three of my children experience the same so far, and these young folks are bubbling over with enthusiasm unlike anything I've witnessed in teen Confirmants. They are eager beyond eager to have the Holy Spirit take up permanent residence in their souls. They are prepped and ready to be transformed, from the tops of their darling heads to the tips of their anxious toes!

Speaking of darling heads, my godson has the cutest head of curly, blonde hair around. But cuteness aside, this is a child destined for greatness. Not only did he handle himself admirably on his own big day, despite admitting to some nervousness ("I usually love getting on stage, it's no problem, but I'm really nervous this time!" he said during the dress rehearsal Friday), but the next day, he led the crowd, literally, at the outset of his older brother's Boy Scout Eagle Award ceremony. "May I have your attention please," he began, and not a moment of flinching as he nudged the furthest table in the room to have first pickings at the taco spread. Naturally, having picked the last to be first, there was a round of applause from that section of the room. My prediction is that this young man is going to be a leader of some sort -- perhaps even a priest, since he also led the large group in a bold rendition of grace before the meal without so much as a pause.

Speaking of the Eagle Scout ceremony, I'd never been to one, but felt honored to witness this rare rite of passage on Saturday. I was a bit emotional, thinking of years long ago when this young man and my oldest son used to play "caves" under our small dining-room table in a different house in a different part of town in a different time in our lives. That was back when his mother and I were just starting out our lives as parents, trying to figure it out together; before they moved away to another state, then back again; before I could even begin to imagine that an energetic little boy who tore around my house with my similarly energetic son would be standing up tall in front of loved ones and fellow Scouts to receive an honor garnered by only five percent of all Boy Scouts. I was proud of him. I can only imagine how his parents must have felt. And yes, the all-too-quick passage of time was staring me in the face hard, but I did not turn away from it. Truly, these are the things that life are about -- growing up and finding our way in the world. Some do it more successfully in others, but we all are confronted with our fair share of joys and sorrows. Life is too short and precious to do anything other than seize those moments of wonder, and to be glad that we've been blessed by this time together -- this small span of time in all of time reserved just for us.

So, as much as anything else, this weekend was a reminder to me that each day is an opportunity to make good on that speck of time we've been given. I am eager to continue on with that pursuit, and to be open to all of life's blessings as they come. What a better time than Memorial Day weekend to reflect on the preciousness of life and service and blessing.

spring procession

Spring procession

Sometime midsummer
Your fruits will stain the pathways
Of our neighborhood,
Reminding us of the messiness
That litters our world.
The gutted, scattered, shriveled skins,
The discarded seeds,
These, along with your weary branches
Will mar this scene;
This pretty, pink, pungent procession
That escorts me out;
A spring promenade of colorful welcoming
That beckons me home,
Invites me to get a little closer and inhale.

in defense of the personal essay

Yesterday, I wrote about some awards I'd won through the North Dakota Professional Communicators organization. Two of the four awards recognized columns I've written for The Forum newspaper as part of its Tuesday "Parenting Perspectives" feature. Each entry requested two columns, so there were four in all represented.

This is what the judge had to say about my first-place entry for column-writing: "Well written, entertaining stories on 'Parenting Perspectives," but are all your columns on your own family? Do you ever tell about other parents experiences and problems?"

It was a little different from the comment that came from the judge of my religion pieces: "Well written stories! Your connection with the reader is excellent. Good job!"

The latter comment made me feel great about those stories; I'd worked hard on them. The former comment, well, I wasn't sure. Was it a compliment? She gave me first place, praised my writing, but quickly moved on and ended with a more critical stance.

I am no Erma Bombeck, that's true, but I do feel passionate about personal-essay writing. And therein lies the key to this posting. I am not a political columnist, nor am I an advice columnist.I am a personal essayist. Thinking back on the year, the first of "Parenting Perspectives," each of my columns was about my family, and each of the other four columnists also wrote exclusively about their respective families. We did not stray from that vantage point, ever. We stayed near our own individual hearths to enlighten our readers.

I can imagine that after reading four of my columns all in succession, it might have seemed a bit like self-absorption to the judge. However, readers of The Forum only read my column once a month. They read each of the other parenting columnists once a month, too. In that way, they have a new parenting voice each week. I think it works pretty well. We've got a grandmother, a single father of two boys, a mother of two girls and a mother of an infant daughter on our slate of columnists. And I'm in there, too, with my brood of five, two girls and three boys, preschooler to teenager. We all have something unique to contribute. But we write about our own parenting experiences because they are the parenting experiences we know the very best. Especially when it comes to parenting, unless you are some sort of expert who has written a best-selling book on parenting, the only family you can truly offer up as an example is your own. I would be hard-pressed to give "this is the only way to do it" advice to any parent, because no family is exactly like mine. I would, however, if asked, share what I have experienced and what has worked (or not worked) for my family. I love encouraging new parents, and listening to moms who are older than I am to help prepare me for what's coming. But always, always I am mindful of the fact that you cannot truly advise someone else's family on what's best. Certainly, there are some tried and true methods and guidelines, but each must be adapted to the individual family.

The other point I want to make is that even though the personal essay might seem self-absorbing, its purpose is not. We write about our lives not for self-indulgence, but because by going deep into our everyday lives, we are hopeful that maybe, just maybe, we will hit on some universal truth that might hearten another parent. I had a great response to the column I just wrote about mismatched socks. Even those parents who would rather die than be caught sending their children to school with socks that do not match perfectly surely must recognize, on some level, that this parenting gig is not going to work in a perfect manner; that on occasion, we're not going to look just right. We're going to have bad days when we don't respond perfectly, or when our kids don't respond as we'd like them to. It's okay. That doesn't mean we've failed. We really are, in a sense, all in this together, being imperfect but doing our best. The point of the mismatched socks story was to recognize that imperfection will happen, and to be okay when things aren't picture-perfect, whether it's something physical like mismatched socks, or something internal and much less visible to the outside world.

And so, yes, dear judge. I really did get what you were saying, but you read my columns out of the context of their rightful place. I am only part of a mix of other parenting writers who write not to indulge ourselves, but to foster a connection. We don't need to obsess over our families and bore our readers in the process. We write about our families because we're hoping that something we say will strike a connection in another parent and give them a little more courage to carry on in their job, the most emotional demanding job of all, of parenting. We're hoping to evoke something with our words -- maybe a smile, or a laugh, and on occasion, maybe even tears that will help heal an ache somewhere deep inside.

That's what I try for in my columns and through this blog as well. I'm offering an outstretched hand to my readers and saying, "Hey there, would you like to travel with me for a few moments today? Maybe something I say will bring a smile to your face, or offer a different perspective, or point out something new. I'd love for you to join me, even for a few moments. And if you'd like to offer something in return, I'm listening."

So, I won't apologize for writing about my family only, because the best I can offer you is a glimpse of my own life. I mother this family, and not any other. I'll save writing about others for the news articles I also do on a continuing basis. But this isn't one of those. This is a slice from my life that, I hope, will add a little something to yours.

it's a dirty job but...

I mean it when I say that. There are times I really wish I never had to preen my feathers. It feels so much the opposite of humility, which is, IMHO, one of the most admirable traits of all. But as a writer in today's world, it's all par for the course. We've been warned by wise voices within the industry that if we don't stay current, don't do at least a little self-promoting, and don't keep the channel to our work open and energized, we risk becoming irrelevant. And what a word that is. Who wants to be irrelevant? In terms of who I am in God's eyes, I don't worry so much about relevance. I know where I stand with God, who sees me and each of His children as vitally relevant. But in the eyes of the earthly world, I am but a whisper, and as such, it's important I seize these opportunities to share any successes when they do come (it's not every day, after all). I can't risk irrelevance without risking my livelihood, too. Not all professions depend on it, but mine surely does. And so, partly though obligation and partly through a sincere feeling of gratitude, I would like to share here that my efforts in the past year have, indeed, produced tangible "fruits;" namely, my contest submissions to the North Dakota Professional Communicators organization have been returned and deemed worthy of recognition.

Below is one of four certificates I received. And yes, my name is spelled wrong in each of them. The same thing happened when I won the Flicker Tale Award for my children's book, P is for Peace Garden: A North Dakota Alphabet, in 2006. The plaque read: Roxane E. Salonen. It was a nice try, but after some deliberation, I requested it be redone with the correct spelling. It's not the end of the world, truly, but I figured if I'd gotten far enough in my work to earn a plaque that might sit in my office until the end of my earthly life, at least it could be spelled correctly. We college students would have received an automatic "F" grade in Shelton Gutaratne's Reporting II class if our stories had been found with any fact errors, name spellings included.

All first place honors go on to the national competition (National Federation of Press Women) for consideration. Of course, the competition increases substantially at that level, so my expectations are quite realistic. I'm simply happy to be among the state winners, and especially to know that my first year of "Parenting Perspectives" column pieces for The Forum, which I've thoroughly enjoyed producing, have been appreciated/recognized.

Among my award-winning submissions:

First place, columns, specialized columns (Forum columns, including this one)

Second place, columns, specialized columns (Forum columns)

First place, special articles, religion (this and this article in New Earth)

Honorable mention, OPEN Magazine feature story, "Show Time" (featuring John Marks of the Trollwood Performing Arts School)

And in case anyone is wondering what the deal is with the single "n" in my name, my father named me after the heroine in the French play, Cyrano de Bergerac. So, if you're reading this, dear Dad, I'm working on it!

traveling and talking with tanya

What a nice day today was, traveling in the sunshine up to Grand Forks with Tanya Watterud, communications director for the Diocese of Fargo, to take part in the Real Presence Radio spring "Live Drive." I really enjoyed watching Tanya in action, and also, bantering with her about our shared and unique experiences as communicators/writers and mothers. I truly feel honored to have been a guest of the show and to meet the nice folks at the station. Thanks all for the chance to hang out with you, and for the delicious lasagna that concluded our time there. Garfield would be envious!

Quick shout-out to "anonymous" who sent a comment the other day questioning my mothering (based on this column I wrote on mismatched socks for The Forum newspaper): Sounds like you've got some great skills and could offer a lot of wonderful tips on how I might order my life a little better. I am happy to assure you my kids are well loved, mismatched socks and all.

Peace to all in the day ahead!

radio road trip coming up

Today, I met up with students from Northwest Minnesota for a Young Author Conference. The energy of young people never fails to rub off on me, though when I arrive home, I almost always feel like heading straight to bed. It's wonderfully exhausting!

I'd love to write more about the day, but with another busy day tomorrow, I'm opting to close shop a little earlier than usual to get some much-needed shut-eye. I'll be traveling the direction from which I came today -- Grand Forks, ND -- to take in the radio production day at Real Presence Radio.I'll be interviewed as part of their "Spring Live Drive." I can't promise I'll be able to put together anything coherent, especially after three lively presentations today, but I will do my best. If you're local, you can catch it on 1280 AM (1370 in Grand Forks). If not, go to this website and click on the icon of the "listen live" speaker on the lefthand side of the page. Hopefully it should hook you up to the station. I'll be on around noon or 1 p.m. Check my Twitter update on right side of this page for correct time tomorrow later morning.

Peace to you!

Daughterly Duet

This morning, you could not agree.
She said coffee, you said tea.
She said purple, you said green.
She said you and you said me.
Now, ebony and ivory
Have wooed you here so playfully.
Side by side, knee to knee,
Your hands along the pretty keys
Glide in perfect harmony
Bonding you in unity
Maybe for eternity.
(We’ll see…)

lightbulb moment of a 4-year-old

Last night, as Daddy Troy was resting next to the little boys in an attempt to settle them down for the evening, they began competing over telling him about their day. Nick started sharing something that had occurred earlier but soon lost his train of thought. "I forgot what I was gonna say!" he said in frustration. While he trailed off, Adam took advantage of the opening and chirped in with a detailed rendition of his own. But several minutes into that, another breach in the conversation: "Hey, I unforgot!" Nick said, happy as all get out that his original thought had returned.

Unforgot. That's one worth remembering, or, should I ever forget it, unforgetting as soon as possible.

So today, while on my way out to the soccer fields, thinking a million different thoughts about the upcoming weekend and running on the fly as usual, I complained to Troy that I had something important to tell him, but it had escaped me and there simply wasn't enough time to recall it before parting.

"Oh, don't worry. You'll unforget it soon enough," he said.

I think that wonderful word is here to stay. Mark it down, Webster, lest you forget it and have to unforget it.

Here's another good one from the Nick corner. Tonight, I was reading the little boys what has become one of my and their favorite children's stories: Piggie Pie by Margie Palatini.

Though this book came out in the mid-1990s, I somehow missed the memo of its arrival. Until recently, when Adam brought it home from the school library. It went missing a few days back, but we found it again today, much to the boys' delight. So, they excitedly sat down on the bed to hear my lively rendition of the book (I am exceptionally good at reading witch parts...all those times in my youth watching the annual television feature of The Wizard of Oz have proven fruitful). Well, I hadn't gotten too far into it, around the page when the witch discovers she doesn't have the main ingredient for the pie -- the piggies -- and shouts, "Problem!" when Nick started squirming. He knew the story was only going to get better, and in order to fully enjoy it, he'd have to tend to more important business first. "Pause it, Mom, pause it!" he shouted. "I have to go to pee!" Like a well-minding electronic device, I stopped in my tracks and watched him dash off to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later, emptied and ready for the delightful adventure of one witch in search of eight plump piggies.

I think Nick's onto something here. Wouldn't it be nice if, whenever we needed a potty break, or just a little reprieve from something annoying or draining, we could press a pause button and the world would freeze for a while? I'm sure my kids would love it if they could really put me on pause at will. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind someone inventing a mommy remote -- a device that, whenever her kids are annoying her or talking back, a mommy could just hit pause and their mouths would magically stop moving, and pleasant attitudes would kick in for the rest of the day.

Now there's an idea worth unforgetting!

7 quick takes friday (vol. 9)

It’s time again for Friday “Quick Takes.” For more, see Conversion Diary.

---1---

TULIPS WITH TEARS FOR TONY: My hope was to capture our backyard tulips in bloom, the spring sun at their backs, but when the rain came today, I had to settle for them folded upon themselves, raindrops dripping down. I was reminded that sometimes Plan B turns out to be the best plan of all. I love this glimpse of spring, rain and all. Come to think of it, the raindrops just might be tears for Tony, our 11-year-old nephew/cousin who died unexpectedly Tuesday morning. My kids often say when it is raining that God is sad. I know he is not sad for Tony, who is with Him now, but for those of us left without him. I shared Tony's smiles yesterday in this posting. I hope you will take a look, and if you could spare a prayer or two, throw one up there for our family.

--2--

LOADS OF LAUNDRY CONTINUED...into infinity: I have to laugh at and to myself. Even after Tide washed about 20 loads of our family's clothes as part of a humanitarian "Loads of Hope" event following area flooding, I'm still hopeless when it comes to conquering the laundry mountain in our home of seven. I still haven't completely emptied the plastic bags of clean clothes, and my laundry pile is, once again, nearly sky high (sigh). Another laundry-related rant can be found on my parenting column in this week's Forum.

---3---

MOM'S DAY CONTINUED: Since this shot came late in the day, I didn't get to sneak it onto my Mother's Day posting, so thought I'd include it here. Here's Adam and the heart-shaped brownie surprise from Daddy and the kids. We saved it for the end of the day, and enjoyed it by the firepit out back.

---4---

AN EXORTATION FROM BRET LOTT (for writers): I've finished the writing memoir, Before We Get Started, by Bret Lott, and wanted to share the following conclusion by the author in a chapter called "Against Technique," from page p.114:

"...go, and do not think. Disavow uninspired scholarship, timid ambition, scrupulous dimsightedness on your way to the discovery that awaits in the making of art. Let ignorance, inability and stupidity be the flag of the day. Pay attention recklessly. Strain to see through the window of your own artistic consciousness in the exhilarating and frightening and liberating knowledge that there is no path to the waterfall, and there are a million paths to the waterfall, and there is, too, only one path. Yours."

--5--

YEAR-END EVENTS CONTINUED: Today, my kindergartener, Adam, took part in an end-of-year spring musical. The kids were allowed to wear something silly if they wanted -- attire of their choosing. I loved seeing what they came up with. For Adam's part, he chose to wear too-small, very un-cool Teletubbies pajamas, "because only little kids like the Teletubbies, right Mom?" he asked in a search for affirmation. He's a big kid now, you know, the first five years of his life behind him as if they took place eons ago. He did such a great job, but had the difficult task of trying to keep the left, purple wing of Miss Butterfly out of his face the entire program.

See video below of the kids in action with their very vivacious music teacher at the helm.

--6--

DECOMPOSITION: Elizabeth brought this decomposed leaf into the car after school. Having survived the winter, it is a true survivor.

--7--

REGRET OF THE WEEK: I'm so sad it didn't work out for me to travel to Mississippi to be there for Tony's funeral. Instead, I'll be here, racing from one soccer field to the next, being present at my girls' piano recital on Sunday, and heading off to Thief River Falls, MN, with my daughter on Monday afternoon for a rescheduled Young Author Conference. The day after I return, I'll be off again to Grand Forks to take part in a radio interview through our local Catholic radio station, 1280 AM. I'll be discussing motherhood, writing and my faith.

Peace to you in the weekend ahead!

life with tony

Yesterday, I mentioned our family is, once again, engulfed in the grieving process. My heart is filled with sadness, and my head, with details of trying to arrange help for our kids as we prepare to leave town for a few days. I didn't know whether I'd be here today, but due to the graciousness of my dear sister-in-law, Kelly, I am here, sharing again with you. I'm here because I wanted to introduce a very special family member, our nephew and cousin, Tony. Tony died Tuesday morning, unexpectedly. Just days earlier, he was out on the golf course with his family, seeming even more vivacious than usual, and on Mother's Day, loving up his mother with his smiles. His parents, twin brother, Michael, and all those who knew him and were blessed by his presence miss him greatly. It is hard to convey the depth of the hole left in his wake. Tony was never able to walk or talk for himself, but he showed us that those things are not necessary for one to be vibrantly and fully human. I hope these photos will give you a glimpse into the soul of this beautiful boy, who graced our lives for 11 years, and that his smile will brighten your day.

I asked Kelly to share a little about life with Tony. She described him as a "truly wonderful and patient child" who was "filled with joy and light." She said he dealt with his limitations without complaint, and loved watching Elmo and listening to music, as well as swimming and going on golf-cart rides. "He was fun to be around, and was just so happy all the time," she added. "We are blessed to have had him in our lives. Our hearts are broken because we miss him but we believe he is running and singing in heaven. He is free."

Thanks for allowing me to share this bit of our Tony with you. Here is a website of a camp Tony attended in the summertime. There are so many great organizations doing wonderful things for kids like Tony.

Dear Tony, we miss you so much! We are so sad you had to go. Thank you for sharing yourself with us these past years. You will be part of us forever and ever...

blogging bits

My mother was a faithful reader of Guideposts magazine in my growing up years, and back when it was still being produced, I had a few children's stories published on their Guideposts For Kids online children's magazine. Recently, I noticed they have a new section on their company website for bloggers, and I wrote in to see if Peace Garden Mama might be included. Today, I got notice it has come to pass. It's a duplicate of this blog, but another way for readers to find my writing. You can take a look here. Scroll down a bit to find my link.

Even more importantly, my blogging pal Missy has been nominated for a Twin Cities area bloggers' award sponsored by Nickelodeon. Missy does a very nice job with her blog, which is entertaining and informative, especially in regards to issues that affect today's parenting. I hope you will consider popping over to the site and voting for Missy, after taking a look at her blog, of course. Last I checked, she was tied for first place. The voting system is very slick. There is no messy registration involved. You just go here and click next to her blog name: Marketing Mama and click "vote."

Lastly, we've had a death in the family, so I might be quiet for a while, but I'll be back at it when the time is right. Thanks for your understanding and patience.