"I see the signs now all the time."

It's Friday! Time for... PHOTOS! YEAH! (Lyric from "Signs" by Bloc Party)

So this week's challenge was signs. I was picturing lots of creativity in my photos - having my sisters do some sign language, find some billboards, etc.

It didn't happen - whether that is my fault for being too lazy or...

yeah, it's me being too lazy.

The good thing about living in a metropolitan area is that there is an abundance of street signs, and they were none too hard to find...

For more Foto Friday, visit Rebecca.

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Well, this is easier than I thought it was going to be. I imagined frantically searching for time to write yet another post, but it appears things will be more relaxed than that. We have discovered a problem. My daughter was supposed to present me with topics which we in turn would expound upon and hopefully offer differing points of view. We cannot find anything to discuss which raises enough conflict to make things interesting. One of the perks of homeschooling is you have oodles of time to throughly brainwash your children.

There are topics which we agree upon but discussion would prove disastrous for our social well being, we have for years lived in a blue state while remaining in a red cloud. It was one of the many reasons that relocation was so inviting, to be among "friends" and to be able to come out of hiding would have been a real plus. BUT I cannot dwell on the the impossible it just depresses me, we will continue to search for relevant topics and try to keep this interesting.

Tattoos?

Twitter? (Oh wait, I can't use that word.)

Math?

None sound very interesting.

"The sea is wine red, this is the death of beauty."

Let's see how long I can match up lyrics with Foto Friday challenges! (The title lyric is from The Hush Sound's "Wine Red").

I know it's a little late, but hey, it's only 10:50 central time, so it still counts as Friday.

I took a ton of (better-than-last-week) red photos this week, and I'm very pleased with the way a lot of them turned out.

I don't know why I didn't think of street signs last week - there are a lot of yellow ones. But ah well, this week I used that discovery to my advantage. I went on a walk and snapped photos of anything red I spotted. :)

For more Foto Friday, visit Rebecca.

Dark Thoughts

A major disaster, and we are trying to recover. Well, I am trying to recover the rest of the family seems to have moved past the change already. It seems silly that a move or now the lack of move could cause this much trouble. I imagine this is what happens when someone very close dies, you move through your day and when you least expect it some sound, a gesture, a picture comes to mind and a wave of grief washes over you, all control gone you just sob. This is not polite crying but shoulder shaking, breath catching, grief that pours out of you and makes you wonder if you can ever stop. I cannot recall ever feeling this forlorn. I have tried, and low points are out there but I do believe we have set a new personal record. I think a part of me has died.

Amputation at this point seems a bit brutal, and as life continues around me I expect things to improve, but the dead weight in the mean time is oppressive. My children feel it, one just hugs me and assures me "It will be OK, I promise" just as I had whispered to her a few short weeks ago when relocation looked certain. Another has become an explosive device, with a hair trigger and situations that will trip said trigger abound. She seems caught between relief and lost puppy dreams, and the internal conflict is beyond her coping skills. What's a mother to do.

You put on a smile and keep working, stuffing feelings as needed to get through the day, tripping over grief waves and praying you don't get pulled under. It does make me worry, what if something truly awful happened, have I any coping skills? Someone on the radio was on their 10th cancer diagnosis, I chatted with a women whose son is bi-polar, autistic, ADHD, and 13. I know I have no real reason to complain, but I just wanted more and it was so close I could taste the sweetness. It is so dark right now it could be frightening, but I do believe light is there some where, just can't see it right now. So I wait for a door or a window, some patience, and maybe a glimmer of hope.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you."

I've been following the Friday Foto Challenges at Rebecca's for a few weeks now, and I wanted to participate in last week's blue theme, but didn't have my memory card reader so I couldn't upload the photos I took.

But now I'm participating in this week's yellow challenge, which, I have to admit, I'm not too crazy about. I love photography, but there simply isn't a lot of intriguing yellow objects to take pictures of around my house.

This week, you witness my obsession with macro photographs. Maybe next week I'll take some regular shots. ;^)

The yellow suns on my guitar strap immediately caught my eye after I saw that the challenge for this week was yellow.

My sister was pouring honey on her cornbread, and the yellow-ness of it all was too perfect.

The bear confetti (from a Fall Out Boy concert last spring - YEAH!) is actually a very pale neon green - but I decided it looks yellow enough. And the Clandestine Industries receipt is definitely yellow.

P.S., the title is from the song "Yellow" by Coldplay.

I couldn't resist.

Cover Art

We've all heard the saying "don't judge a book by its cover"... and lately, I've been realizing how hard that is to actually do.

I've been noticing how much I tend to judge books, music, along with various people, by their "covers". For instance, whenever I receive my monthly issue of Alternative Press, I go through the magazine and write down all the names of the bands and musicians I'm unfamiliar with to check out later (did your nerd-dar just go off?) - and I've been researching March's music this week. Within my avid iTunes browsing, I've been automatically pegging bands by their cover art. I find myself cringing looking up Sayyadina, fairly assured they're going to be metal-screamo-rip-your-eardrums-out, relaxing as Grizzly Bear pops up on the screen, prepared for some true indie-rock chill out time, and trying to decide how long I'm going to be able to stomach the uber-cute-ness of NeverShoutNever - all before I even click the "play" button. There are countless other instances, and it's not often that I'm that far off the mark (and I'm sure it's not just me. After you look up enough albums, you'd get pretty good at it too). There isn't a band that comes to mind that has truly opposite music than their cover art predicts - and why is that?

Maybe it's the same reason we dress up for church, for job interviews, for parties. Why would we do that if people didn't judge us on our external appearances? We rarely just roll out of bed, hair sticking up every which-way with that chocolate ice cream stain from last night's dessert rubbed into our 3-year-old summer camp shirt and walk outside into the world. If people truly didn't "judge books by their covers" then it wouldn't matter.

Is it a good thing to want to look respectable when we go out? I know there are some days when you just don't care - we've all seen what that's like, whether it be experiencing "one of those days" ourselves or just witnessing another person having one. But taking the time to get ourselves ready and presentable is sort of a sacred time in our busy lives. I know, personally, it makes me feel better to wash my face, brush my hair and get dressed than just lounging around in my pajamas all day (I will admit, I've stayed in my pajamas for 36+ hours before - and it wasn't when I was sick). It's a refreshing time in the morning to wake up and consider what the day ahead will be like. Wearing an outfit you love can make you feel better about yourself, and we all know confident people are the most welcoming.

There are certain situations when dressing in clothes that not only look nice, but make you feel good, is key. Take a job interview for example - if you want the job, you don't just skulk in, clothes rumpled, hair tangled, smacking gum on a really craptastic day. You're obviously going to be oozing "get away from me - I feel awful". You stand up straight, dress nicely and do the best you can to show your possible employer how you will present yourself - even if it is a craptastic day. One of my mom's favorite sayings is "fake it 'till you make it". Dressing well can make you feel good about yourself - and hey, if you get the job, that's just an added bonus.

Indelible Marks

Easter leaves it mark, I rubbed my hand raw and still there are remnants of color under my nails and soaked into my cuticles. I guess it could be worse. I remember another church service with stained fingers. I had raced to Mass right from the police station, up since 5am, and needed to make the last service of the day. This was before electronic or digital capturing of fingerprints. When you were fingerprinted they rolled each fingertip across a purply black stamp pad and then rolled the print on to a white card marked off with small boxes. That ink took forever to wear off. Timing again was off, when I was a kid you didn't use your hands for communion, had this been true my ink stained digits would have remained my secret, but this was post Vatican II and we receive with our hands. I didn't really think about it till I placed my hands up to receive the host at least 8 suspicious looking tips are visible. Father, bless his heart, never said a word, only the merest flicker of a raised eyebrow, at why his some what disheveled junior high catechist looked like she had been recently fingerprinted. I never did explain, just let them wonder.

But this year it is only egg dye that marks me and many mothers at church on Easter morning. My mother got to wear gloves for a lot of those early years, nobody could tell who the egg dyers were back then. But our life activities are now out there for all to see. When you have children there really are no secrets in your house, and technology pushes that to a whole new level, they share with the world now instead of their third grade teacher. And what do we bring to the world this Easter? Not enough I am afraid. Our Easter prep and lenten promises were all cluttered up with thoughts of moving and somewhat less than sacred. I even skipped "Re-lent" our churches weekly prayer meetings organized for the season, feeling there wasn't enough time this year.

Fortunately for me even our messy half-done attempts somehow become not only acceptable but glorious at that vigil, and we regardless of preparation are given 50 days to celebrate. Aching hearts are soothed, anxiety ridden minds are calmed, and life moves in a better direction, seldom the one I planned but something better. So we celebrate, life and learning and each other, grateful for our abundance. And though preparation was haphazard we now have more than enough to share, and move forward to bring our gifts to the world, allowing Him to use our rainbow stained hands. Happy Easter!

Welcome to OZ

Yesterday I could have just said "April Fools" and that would have been the end, and disappointed my daughter. How did this happen, I swore I would never blog, and I even know better than to say never.

Once you have children not only does life as you know it change but periodically forces take over and things spin out of control, you end up in this whirlwind and come out the other side wondering like Dorothy what happened to Kansas. It is seldom a simple yes that gets you to OZ, but a series of innocent often unrelated events and bam it happens again.

Like take the simple search for the perfect kindergarten for your precocious 5 year old, it begins simply enough with school visits. Lots of them and each a little less promising than the last. I was suppose to be the perfect parochial school room mother, visiting my daughter's classroom observing the class dynamic and assisting the teacher as she directs. All the parochial schools in our neighborhood are unacceptable for a variety of reasons, what is a mother to do? Public school, we are in a great district, should we seriously consider this? This would mean room mother at a whole new level, to monitor what takes place in the classroom, a daunting commitment when you have infant twins. Samantha meanwhile under goes some pretty comprehensive testing at a local university, not for information but to help out some folks in their research. They needed normal children to test and my daughter was one of those guinea pigs. Test results reveal 2nd grade reading skills, 1st grade spelling skills and kindergarten math skills. I am thinking about skipping kindergarten, the entire decision will be postponed for an entire year, the child somehow managed to learn something in her 5 year existence including most of the kindergarten curriculum without the assistance of any school system. My decision to skip preschool was met with many raised eyebrows, what will they think now?

To avoid confrontations I begin to use the word homeschool, some are frightened, some are impressed, some are confused, but most believe a decision has been made and respect that. I figured she had already completed kindergarten, and told folks we were taking it one year at a time, so I really couldn't screw things up too much. Welcome to OZ. That was 11 years ago.

Eleven years, two special needs students, and relearning all the math I was sure I wouldn't need again. None of this was in my plan.

So begins the search for a new plan, and on occasion rash words come spewing out of my mouth because this plan isn't something I have done before. I have no frame of reference for creating school at home, and as a homeschooling parent you panic and will try anything to put the guilt to rest.

"You may get your ears pierced when you finish your math book."

" Starting a Mother/Daughter book group could be fun"

"We could have a Father/Daughter dance."

"No you cannot have a blog it will interfere with school time."

That last one was a good one, then twitter was added to the request. I continued to refuse, but a blog had become the lesser of two evils. One teary evening I caved, "You can only have a blog if I am on it too, and only if you finish that biology book." Bam!

Twitter has been removed from my vocabulary.

Greetings.

Why, hello, blogging world.

My mom and I have created this blog together, mostly because I've been begging her to start one for a while now. We're not exactly sure how it's going to work, but my idea is that twice a month, we'll pick a topic and both blog about it - see how we contrast on different ideas, etc - but we'll also each post on our own, about life, happiness, chocolate, and other good things like that.

So, a bit of an introduction.

I'm Samantha. I love many things, but at the moment, am truly passionate about writing, psychology, photography and music. I am constantly in search of new, good music, and will try almost anything out except rap and heavy-metal-screamo, so suggestions are always welcome. I'm learning guitar - slowly, verrrrrry slowly, love to write lyrics, and hope to someday, somehow, be involved in the music industry - wether it be through a band or in the studio or as a reporter. I adore writing in general - poetry, novels, short stories, essays, lyrics, I write them all, as well as reading (I love finding new books - suggestions welcome, again). I'm a triathlete-in-training, and will be participating in my first (sprint) triathlon in August. I'm a homeschooled Catholic (oh, yes, let all the stereotypes rain down!), and love it.

I think that's about it.

Maybe I can get my mother to post an intro about herself sometime soon... we'll see how it goes.