Digging In the Dirt

 So my bff Marie has a bit of an etsy addiction, just like I have a bit of a stone addiction. When these two addictions collide, silly fun happens.

To set the scene, my sister & mom came out for a visit. After they left, Marie decided to send me a small gift to chase away the blues of my family leaving to go home. The package arrives and is really heavy.  I open it up to find this:

It is a bit squishy so I figure it is padding. Nope! It is a bag of sand!

According to the directions, the crystals are in the sand. It is up to you to find them. Let the fun begin!

I poured the bag into a bowl and dug it. It took about 20 minutes but I found all the awesome crystals. It was a lot of fun. I'd recommend this to anyone, kids & kids at heart.

After I opened the bag but before digging in the dirt.

My wonderful treasures unearthed

On the Search

 It has been 4 months since my fuzzy daughter Gabby crossed the rainbow bridge. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. She was the 1st pet my husband & I had together and was a huge part of my heart.

Ever since she passed, I have wanted to tattoo an outline of her actual paw print (major thanks to my vet for helping us get that before she passed). The hard thing about this is trying to find a tattoo artist to do this for me. As an artist myself, I would never ask for discounts for a piece of art done by another. However, it has been harder than what I thought. I can't seem to get a clear cost on what I want & the few quotes I have gotten seem ridiculously high (ex: $100 per hour plus cost of the piece which would be around another $100).

All I wish to do is honor my daughter; a simple outline of her paw print with her name under it. 

My beautiful baby girl

Can't Go Wrong with Potatoes

 I am always looking for recipes to expand our meals. I found a fried potato recipe that seemed pretty easy: Pommes Persillade.

Yes this is a French recipe, but I figured its potatoes. What can go wrong?

Well, they didn't turn out too bad. I might have boiled them a bit longer than I should have, which made for an interesting frying experience. I was also out of dried parsley, so I added a bit of dried basil in its place.  I think I will try to make these again. It seems like a recipe that gets better with more practice at it. Hey, at least I can say I cooked something French.

Here is my copy of the recipe.

No Choice but to Give Up on Him

 I work with students who have behavior and emotional disabilities.  I love my job and wouldn't trade it.  I get to make connections with these kids who a lot of people have already given up on.  And these kids have such personalities; some seem to blossom under the attention. 

I try to listen to what they like, what they don't like, and just have a conversation with them about mundane things.  It often surprises them that I remember what they tell me.  For example, I bring in a birthday treat for each kid: donuts to share with the whole class and a special food treat just for them, based on what they have told me or that I have observed.  They also get a hand drawn card with a message from me and my fellow teacher written inside.  The kids who are new to my room, are often shocked to see a treat that is just for them and it is based off of stuff that I know about them.

What hurts is when one of my kids (yes, they are my kids even though I did not birth them) has given up on his education, for one reason or another.  I keep trying to help them realize the importance of it and how having a high school diploma can help them in the future, but sometimes it doesn't make a difference.  I do not what to give up on them but I have to come to that point where I can't continue to pour water on a dead plant, thinking that it will grow again.  I have three students who have pretty much check out of their education and it hurts to see. 

I still love and care about those kids and I let them know that, but I have to remind myself that there are other kids in my room that haven't checked out of their education.   I don't want to give up on them, but in the end, I have no choice.  Those three have made their choice and there is nothing that I can do to change it.

Think About It

 Will you remember...

The deaths of innocent,

Families torn to pieces,

Lives halted.

Do you stop & think

About tomorrow?

Will you not do it

Because someone else will?

Well...

To someone else,

You are that someone else.

(written August 12, 1999)

The Hardest Path to Find and Follow

 Follow the trail through the night black
To feel the last of the time of day.
The beginning of to the end is
At last touched by the top of Life's lips.
A feeling through
By the loss of these hands.

To keep grasping
With the loss of hands
Is to feel the loss of one.

Touch with the undead hand
Brings the Shadows
Behind the unfulfilled Truths.
Truths left
By mouths dead but moving.

The light opens the door of Truth

And the dark shuts it.

(written January 18, 1999 & inspired by "The Crow: City of Angels)

Cats Are Toddlers

 "Oscar, don't lick that thing off the carpet! You don't know what it is."

Sounds like I am reprimanding a toddler right? Nope. It was something I said this evening to my almost 12 year old cat Oscar.  There are times when I feel that living with a cat is like living with a small, furry toddler. Here are some examples of I've said in my years of being a cat mom:

Gabby, don't smack your brother!

Oscar don't sit on your sister!

Stop trying to crawl into the dryer/closet/pantry.

Get out of the dryer/closet/pantry!

Don't eat your sister's barf!

No, I will not give you more treats.

If you eat too fast, you'll get yourself sick.

These phrases are just a sampling of what I have said (repeatedly) in my 11 years as a cat mom. They sound an awful lot like phrases uttered by people with toddlers. But honestly, the antics that I've seen over the years make those phrases worth it.