Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Gotta Catch 'em All!


 My brother Nathan has recently re-acquired his love of pokemon cards, and is obsessed with buying and trading. For nearly an hour, I listened to him animatedly talk about "purchasing the product" and then "re-selling the product to other dealers". He even has a buyer who regularly meets him in the parking lot of Target for a transactional meeting of "the product". (Nathan's words, not mine).

- Mind you, he's in his thirties and should know better -

Of course, at the same time while Nathan was happily nattering on in the front seat about all things Pokemon, my dearest Mum was sitting in the back seat trying to figure out how she could get her hands on some Water Lettuce while we were Georgia, because evidently Water Lettuce is illegal in South Carolina. 

My brother is meeting strangers in parking lots to offload "Product" and my mother wants illegal "lettuce."

 - There can be no doubt that they are genetically related.

- And that I should start saving bail money.

Kitchen Horrors

 I really thought that once the kids got older, they'd be better about cleaning up after themselves . . .



Oh, the naivete of youth.

Joy Riding in the Goat Pasture

 This past week Ella and I (and my brother Joshy) drove down to South Carolina to see family. The drive was long, but thankfully we didn't run into too much traffic. 11 hours later, we had arrived!

If Ella had been allowed to drive, no doubt would have arrived much sooner . . .



Friday, May 22, 2026

Pitch Cardigan

 


This is the Pitch Cardigan by Emily Green. I love the way it turned out! It's nice and soft, and quite warm. The only downside is that pet hair gets stuck in the wool and it's very hard to get it out :(


Sunday, May 10, 2026

A Night at the Symphony

 Last season, the RSO had a wonderful offer for any students under 18 to attend the symphony for free. I realized that many of my own music students had never had the opportunity to hear a live orchestra, so we took a field trip and went to RSO's last concert of the season.


It was fantastic! I was a little worried that my students would be bored, but this concert had it all. The special favorite was Aaron Copeland's Rodeo. We were all thrilled to see that two dancers from the Rockford Ballet Company performed it live on stage while the orchestra played.

I can't wait to come back next fall!

A Very Happy Mother's Day!


 

Lakes Pullover #2

 


Saturday, October 7, 2023

Got the Stuffing Knocked Out of It

Today was one of those lovely days, where I didn't have to be anywhere and I didn't have to do anything. It was one of those lovely and rare Pajama Days.

Of course, since I can only sit still for so long, I decided to combine those two things and wore my pajamas AND got some things done that have been waiting on my to-do list.

Namely, re-stuffing the pillows.

Our family is really hard on pillows. Either we have huge heads (which many of my family do, we're talking Olmec proportions, here), or I buy cheap pillows. Both are most likely true.
So, I had five, rather sad, deflated pillows. I could have just thrown them away, but of course I knew that as soon as I did, someone would need a pillow. It's Murphy's law.

So, I picked a sacrificial pillow, one that had loose stuffing, and lobotomized it. I used its innards to fluff out the other four.
 When I was done, instead of five emaciated pillows, I had four rotund pillows.
(Yes, this is probably a bit of a pointless endeavor because I could just buy pillows, but there's something satisfying about finding a way to make something last longer.)

I also made sure to label my own pillow. Someone always tries stealing it, and this way they can't claim innocence, bwahahaha! *insert evil laugh*

Sunday, September 24, 2023

Feeding my Family

I've had several really good days in a row, which has resulted in a flurry of baked goods. There's something so satisfying about seeing rows upon rows of homemade raspberry poppy seed muffins.
The knowledge that my family will get to enjoy them feeds something deep in my soul. 

Maybe appreciate it. Maybe they won't. 

(Three of them are teens, after all. One is ever mindful of "the gains, Mom, I gotta watch the GAINS!" The second doesn't ever seem to be hungry when dinner is ready, and the third commicates almost entirely with grunts That could mean anything from, "This is the best food I've ever HAD!!!" to, "I would rather eat dirt".)

Still, I find such joy in getting my hands covered in flour and kneading up a fresh batch of bread for sandwiches or soup. 
It's not miraculous or marvelous, but I hope these simple acts of love feed their hearts. 

Monday, July 17, 2023

Kelp Dreams

Like so many of us poor, beleaguered insomniacs, I have explored the wide world of ways to help myself fall asleep and stay asleep and sleep deeply.

(You people in the back who don't have this problem, just shush for your own personal safety. We insomniacs might hate you. Just a little.)

Anyway, the other night I took some kelp supplements, which are supposedly high in iodine and other things that are magical and sleep-inducing.

The next morning, I woke up, having had a vivid dream in which I was interviewing one of my favorite actors, Ji Chang Wook. 
He was lovely and charming, and we quickly bonded over a light dinner of Mac and Cheese waffles which were topped with fried chicken and drizzled with a sweet Sriracha sauce glaze.
At some point during this fabulous dream, I must have fallen into a food coma (a dream within a dream?) because the next thing I "remember" was waking up to find myself alone at the table, my reporter's notebook lying forlorn and empty in front of me. I desperately flipped through the pages, hoping for some note of farewell from my favorite actor, but alas, there was none.

I awoke, thoroughly despondent and craving chicken fried waffles. 
😭😭😭😭😭

Never meet your heroes, even in your dreams. 

Sunday, July 16, 2023

Rambling at the Conservatory

We are so fortunate to be part of a local homeschool group called the Ramblers. Every week, we get together and ramble about, learning about nature or exploring a new wildlife area.

A few weeks ago, Gabe and I decided to start the exploration early by rambling to one of our favorite places to eat, KBQ (Korean Bar-be-que). The spicy fried chicken is, in Gabe's words, "like dying, but worth it."


It's been awhile since I got to spend one-on-one time, with Gabe, so it was a nice afternoon. Gabe is the middle child, and exhibits many middle-child traits. Since I am also a middle-child, I can commiserate with some of his emotional struggles. 

"Wait," I can hear you saying. "Don't you have four kids? How can you have a middle child when you have four kids?"

Let me explain.

Peter is an only child. He has never acted like he has siblings, and does not acknowledge any familial relationship with them.

Bee is classic oldest child, and has a greater awareness of her siblings than their father does. (This is not a castigation against their father. She, however, knows everyone's birthdays . . .)

Ella is definitely the baby.

That leaves Gabe as 
The Man in the Middle.

Once our palates had cooled, we met up with the rest of the Ramblers at the Nicholas Conservatory and Gardens for a lovely perambulation (great word, isn't it?!) through their gorgeous facility. We've been there several times, but this was the first time to get a tour, and it was a treat. I'm so glad we went!

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Gathering my Courage


Until my mobility became more limited, I never understood how much courage it took for a disabled person to just leave the house.

There's so much I took for granted that now I have to consider in detail whenever I go anywhere.

Can I get my wheelchair out by myself? (It's 50 pounds)

Will there be someone who can help me get it back in the car? What if no one's walking by? (Also, the embarrassment of having to ask a total stranger for help)

Will there be snow? Wheelchairs have wheels -- they don't maneuver well AT ALL in even the smallest dusting of snow.

What if the curbs aren't ramped? I might have to drive on the street.... (A bump of 1" is impassable for the front castors without significant help. Also, wheeling on a street when I am below sight level for any car backing up or pulling out is ... terrifying)

All this fear runs through my head parallel to the excitement of going shopping by myself. (I am an introvert. Going shopping by myself tops my list of Things To Pamper Myself)

Case in point, the other morning, I had a haircut appointment downtown. I got out my Huli-Huli (wheelchair) by myself (Yay!) and turned it on. Very low battery. (Oh no!)

Drove myself down the beautifully renovated downtown sidewalk, that has FANTASTIC ramps onto the sidewalk (Yay!) and got to my hair salon. Asked if I could charge my chair while I get my haircut. My chair won't turn back on. (Oh no!)

So here I sit, feeling conflicting emotions that batter at my courage. It's a beautiful space. The sun is shining, there is pleasant music playing and everyone is so kind.

-- but I'm stuck here if the battery is dead. 

My car is a flurrying (my personal f-word) block away, and I can't even get there. I can literally see it from where I sit. I'm close to tears. I feel so pathetic. 

But then, my husband comes to my rescue and swings by.  He takes one look at it, presses the power button, and it immediately turns on, just as it should (Yay!)

And then the full weight of my see-sawing, turbulent emotions crashes down on me, because it is at that moment I realize - I had been pressing the wrong button the whole time. 

Ugh. I'll go on more solitary excursions again, just . . . not till until after I regain some equilibrium. 

Saturday, July 8, 2023

Oil Pastel Plumeria

I've been watching some interesting TikTok videos lately about using oil pastels, so I wanted to give it a try. I have trouble with landscapes, because I get too caught up in the details and I struggle with broader strokes. My hope is that using oil pastels will force me to be more "general"  in my sketching.


This was my first attempt at something, and it was really more just to get a feel for the medium.

Oil pastels are interesting. When you draw them on the paper, it looks a lot like crayons. However, they are much softer, so you can use your finger or some paper towel to smudge the colors. This makes a really cool blending effect that I really enjoyed working with.


This particular sketch isn't all great, but I didn't have high expectations for it to begin with, since it was my first attempt. 

All-in-all, I think I'll enjoy dabbling with my new hobby! 

Thursday, January 26, 2023

Sunrise to Sunset

Thanks to the time difference between The Frigid North and The Islands, I usually find myself waking up with plenty of time to catch a sunrise (providing I'm near the eastern side of The Island). Today, Ella and I headed to the nearby Waimanalo Beach. 

It was quiet, with no tourists, and only the sound of the wind and waves and the occasional coo of a Morning Dove. I don't think there's any better soundtrack in the whole world. With my toes in the sand and the ocean in front of me, it's like I can feel that tight kink inside of me, the one that steadily gets tighter the longer winter goes on . . . relax.
Going from one happy place to another, after Waimanalo, we drove along the east side of The Island, until we got to Kaneohe. Hunger (and 12 months without local food) dictated we stop for breakfast. We found a charming little restaurant called Cafe Kalawe. 

Ella was happy because she got pancakes. I was happy because I got Loco Moco, which, if you haven't heard of it, is an amazing, artery-clogging combination of rice, hamburger patty, fried egg, and brown gravy. 


From there, we continued around the island, past beautiful beaches on the right and the gorgeous Ko'olau Mountains on the right. It's a long drive (about an hour), but so gorgeous. 

Our destination was Shark's Cove. Ella was hoping we would be able to snorkel there, but the wave forecast wasn't promising, and sure enough, the cove was WAY too dangerous. I don't think I've ever seen such huge waves, although I know that it's not that uncommon for this time of year.

Photos really don't do it justice. 

This is what it looked like around this time last year.

We continued onward, and stopped for awhile at Waimea Bay to catch the surfers. The Eddie Aikau tournament had ended a few days before, so the crowds weren't bad at all.
 I think the waves were about 30 feet, and the life guards had their hands full. 
Obviously, no one other than professional surfers were allowed on the beach (too dangerous).

- and, of course, there were chickens. 
We finished off the day with a spectacular sunset. Kilauea on The Big Island is currently sending over lots of Vog, so the sunsets are especially gorgeous lately. 

I'm so blessed, and my heart is full.

Saturday, October 22, 2022

My Tree

When I was growing up, we moved a lot.

(A. Lot.) 

(Proud Military Brat right here, oh yeah.)

Anyway, no matter where we lived, I always managed to find My Tree. It was a place I could go for refuge; place to find quiet; a spot to read and dream. 
Of course, The Tree of My Heart will always be the banyan tree next to my old house in Hawaii.
When I moved here to Illinois, I thought I was past the age of needing a tree.

(Heh.)

But something I'm learning, the older I get, is that the little girl can always be found in the woman. I was so delighted a few years ago when my best friend Charlie brought me to a place nearby where I finally found My Illinois Tree.
It's a place where I can find refuge, quiet, and the healing that Nature brings.
True, it's a little bit different than the trees of my youth, but I'm still thrilled that I was able to find a tree to climb.

Friday, April 8, 2022

The Big Picture

 I'm currently doing a Bible study with some of the ladies in my church. It's called, God Does His Best Work with Empty by Nancy Guthrie.

Today, for part of the reading, the study guide directed me to read through the book of Ruth, paying careful attention to the theme of loss and emptiness. If you're familiar with the story of Ruth, then you'll know that it begins with Naomi, who, because of a famine in Judah, travels to the country of Moab with her husband. They settle there, and she has two boys, who grow up and then marry two women from Moab. In the course of things, Naomi's husband dies, and then later her two sons.

In that culture, to lose the men of your family would have been devastating. Aside from the personal grief of losing your closest relatives, a woman without the "protection of a man" was in an extremely vulnerable position. I can't imagine the fear and grief that must have consumed Naomi. That poor woman.

Upon hearing that things have gotten better in Judah, she decides to pack up and go back to her hometown. Both her daughter's-in-law offer to go with her, which is telling. Naomi must have been a remarkable woman for these two young widows to offer to uproot themselves to go to a foreign land with their mother-in-law. Totally not the typical relationship trope of daughters-in-law to mother-in-law!

Naomi tries to convince the two women to return to their family homes, and eventually, one of them agrees. Ruth, however, refuses to go, citing one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture:

"Entreat me not to leave you, 
Or to turn back from following after you.
For wherever you go, I will go:
And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;
Your people will be my people, 
And your God, my God.
Where you die, I will die, 
And there will I be buried.
The Lord do so to me, and more also,
If anything but death parts you and me."

Naomi, now accompanied by Ruth, finally reaches her hometown in Judah, which creates quite a stir (it must have been a somewhat small town, or else Naomi's family must have been well-to-do). When questioned about her life since leaving Judah, Naomi says, "Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me."

This is the part that struck me this morning. In her moment, at that moment, Naomi was overcome with grief and loss. How adrift and destitute she must have felt! How humiliated, to have left as a young married woman, and then to have to return as an old widow with only a foreign daughter-in-law to show for all her efforts!

It's only natural that she should see her circumstances as "the Almighty dealing very bitterly with me." In one way, she was absolutely right - it was the Almighty's doing, and in that moment, His doing was hard to bear.

- And yet.

- And yet, He did not leave Naomi without comfort. At that moment, Naomi wasn't fully seeing the value of Ruth, who was standing right next to Naomi. She only saw her moment, which, let's be honest, was awful.

But that's not the whole picture. The bigger picture shows us the beauty of Naomi's story. How Ruth ends up marrying a wealthy man named Boaz, an honorable man who provides for Naomi for the rest of her life. Ruth and Boaz have a son, thereby giving Naomi a grandson to hold. As the book of Ruth ends, it says,

"And they called his name Obed. He is the father of Jesse, the father of David."

Wow. What a fabulous Big Picture. 

But of course, Naomi couldn't see that, especially in her moment of grief. In fact, she never even got to see the overall Big Picture of King David being her great-great-grandson.

And that's where faith comes in. It's faith that marries the belief in the Almighty's goodness with the reality of the Almighty's dealings.

In our culture, it's popular to say, "I have faith," or, "I'm a person of faith," as though it's an accessory to an outfit or an emblem to put on a hoodie. This sort of faith is cheap, like Rue21 jewelry that easily breaks or Walmart clothing that quickly fades. 

Big Picture Faith, however . . . 

Wow. That's something durable. It's priceless.



Wednesday, April 6, 2022

A Bootiful Saturday


Wow, I completely forgot about this. I guess I uploaded these photos last October, and then never published them.

I think that's why I like blogging. It's a bit like scrapbooking, but more wordy. Since I inherited a good bit of my dad's "portugee" (i.e. gift of gab), blogging is more fun for me.
 
I took these photos during the Halloween trick-or-treating at downtown businesses. My Ella looks like an astronaut, but she declared that she was an "Amongus", whatever that is.

And here is my other daughter, who wants to be called by the nickname "Bee", instead of "Boo". Since both are cute, I'll try to humor her.


(No, that's not her costume. She always dresses like that. She's sixteen.)

A New Mantra

I knit during church. 


I realize this may sound sacrilegious, but it truly does help me pay better attention. Of all the voices that clamor in my brain, by far, the most persistent one is the List Maker. 

The List Maker loves to drone on and on about all the things that I have to do today. 

- "What should we make for lunch?"
- "We should just get pizza."
- "We should not get pizza, because we have plenty of food at home and that would be a waste. You just went grocery shopping."
- "Maybe we should go shopping."
- "We should not go shopping because then you'll look at clothes, and we have enough clothes."
- "We should Marie Kondo our clothes."

Ad infinitum
It's like having the love child of Gollum and Martha Stewart constantly whispering in my head. 

Anyway, I knit during church.

Or, at least, I used to. I don't do it so much anymore. Not because the voices in my head are quieter (I wish!), but because I'm finding it a bittersweet experience.

My muscular dystrophy has begun affecting my hands. (There are muscles in my hands also, surprise surprise.) If I knit for any length of time, I won't have the strength in them to play violin or piano for the rest of the day, maybe for the next day as well.

And yet, as I knit stitch after stitch, and feel the distinct pleasure of the soft yarn running through my fingers, it's hard to put it down. The continuity of the thing, the repetition, is soothing. For all the complex designs that can be created through knitting, at its basic element there are only two stitches, knit and purl. They are the binary code of a knitter's program; the quiet, physical rhythm of my psyche. For 18 years, it has been my life's mantra. 

And oh, how it hurts.

I'm not talking about the painful after-affect on my hand muscles; I mean the longing for what was. It's so hard to look at the beautiful skeins of colorful, twisted fibers that lie waiting to be made into something precious, knowing that they will most likely continue to wait forever. That I may never be able to see the finished work that I had envisioned when I first purchased that yarn. 

So now, when I knit, I cherish each stitch in a way that I took for granted before; the smooth feel of the needles expertly sliding into the millimeter of space created from a stitch knitted awhile before, followed by the glow of satisfaction for every successful loop retrieved from a straight line of yarn. There is an incongruity in expecting something as low-friction as a metal needle to be able to snatch strands of fiber, and yet, it can happen.

I'm going to hang onto that hope. Even as I slowly lose something that has been a continuous part of my life for such a long time, I'm going to try to snatch at joy, no matter how incongruous that chance may seem. Just as with a knit stitch, I might occasionally drop the yarn, or it might slip off my needle. But that's the great thing about creating something, right? If I go back and try again, eventually, I'll succeed.

So for now, as long as I can, I'll knit during church, and pray in hope that a new hobby is waiting for me.

The voices in my head agree. (They're also reminding me that I need to go fold laundry.)

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Navigating Chicago

One of the interesting things I've noticed about my decreased mobility is also a corresponding increase in anxiety, especially with new situations where I'm not sure I'll be able to get around.

Thanks to a new power chair, I'm finding it easier to get out and do things. However, just because it's easier to get out doesn't mean that my nervousness with dealing with new situations has gone away. In an effort to challenge myself, I'm trying to push myself to try new things, or perhaps, try things that I would have done before, but now I have to do them in a new way.

That being said, it's still not as "easy" as before. A power chair has to be loaded onto my small attached trailer, hopefully no one will clip the back of the trailer, hopefully the weather will be good, hopefully I'll be able to find handicap parking, hopefully I'll be able to get the wheelchair off by myself, etc etc etc. . .  Then factor into all that the natural anxiousness accompanied by a drive into downtown Chicago, and you'll have a good idea of how much bravery it took.


But I did it!

Not only did it get to see a friend that I haven't seen in 15 years, I also got to spend the evening with my brother and sister-in-law, which is always a treat, and not just because they make excellent food 😁.

I guess just like anything scary, once you've done it, the next time it's a just a little less scary. Here's to another adventure under the belt and hopefully more to come!



 

Monday, October 25, 2021

So Good to Sew Again

 It's been a while since I've blogged anything. I guess I haven't been in the mood to share.


Another thing I haven't done in a while is do any sewing. In the past, knitting was my preferred hobby because it was more portable. However, the other day I happened to be at Jo-Ann fabrics and the sewing bug hit, haha.

This also coincided with a recently canceled order from Zulily. (As in, I put lots of adorable outfits in my shopping cart, and then Reason/Economy stepped in and made me dump them all back out again.) So, in that dangerous state of mind hovering between self-satisfaction from having saved myself about $100 and a tinge of sadness that I hadn't splurged $100, I stepped into JoAnn's.

Isn't this fabric pretty? 

I was talking to a friend recently, and she reminded me of when we were kids and her Home Ec Guru mother was horrified that I preferred to sew without patterns. (I can sew with a pattern, but I usually can't be bothered. Too time-consuming). 

Anyway, I guess-timated, and purchased 2 yards of fabric, which was just about the right amount for a cute skirt for my youngest. 

She's nine, now, can you believe it!?

I love that my Viking sewing machine has a variable speed setting. It made me a little less anxious about letting Ella have the controls. She likes to sew like she does everything else . . . fast, fast, and faster. Still, she did a pretty good job.



To finish the ensemble, I took one of her solid-colored, long-sleeved tees and appliqued a heart onto the front with some leftover scrap fabric.

She likes it, I like it, and best yet, I got three outfits for under $20, and we got to spend time together making something even more special than clothes - memories.