Ugly Shoes

So, I've had these photos and post in my drafts folder for some time. 

Because I always think about shoes.
They matter.
Don't they? 

Unfortunately I am wistfully looking at the pix now because I've been wearing my ugly shoes for over a week.

I have tendonitis in my ankle.

To be more specific, Posterior Tibial Tendonitis.

Well.
Shoot.

I miss running.

And pretty shoes.

Now I will share this never posted entry with great melancholy.

And dream about pretty shoes.

These feet caught my eye in Copenhagen.

 

These are what I purchased shortly after.

 

These are what I wore the rest of the day...sigh.

rats

To our daughters

Here's the thing, one of my mantras to my daughters has been:

 "Don't be afraid to try.

If you have to already be an expert, you will never get to learn."

But have they heard me?

I once heard Demi Moore say she wanted her daughters to know it is
okay to be vulnerable. 

I think we are saying the same thing.

Mostly.
Have Rumer, Scout and Tallulah Belle heard her?

(Who knew Demi and I have more than just our uncommonly good looks in common?)

I think this is another way to say it:

(This has been on my inspiration board for so long, I can't cite the source.  I believe Art Jewelry magazine.

Learning can be great.

Do it.

Try something new. 

Be vulnerable.

Today.  

And don't be an expert.

Yet.

Then tell me about it. 

Coincidentally, this tidbit was sent by my friend Oprah this AM:

"Every day is an opportunity to learn something or discover something or someplace.  Be curious, play, go out on a limb, walk a different way to work, try a new food at dinner and keep learning and growing."

— Sandra Magsamen

Out of breath

You know how sometimes something seemingly ordinary takes your breath away?
Maybe it was the Spring colors.
Or maybe the Utah altitude.
But when I went for a run near PlumCreek, my breath was taken away.

Over and over again.

All of these "ordinary" scenes  called to me that morning.
I had to catch my breath.

(Serendipity.  This red van drove by just as I was running up to take the donkey's picture by his blue barrel.)

I wish my photography skills could plant all of this beauty inside your eyes.
Or heart.
Or somewhere like where it landed in me.

(I just love the way the blue garbage cans are lined up, pointing toward the mountain.)

And some trucks for my friend, Jenni:

(I was afraid if I got a better shot of this one, I might get shot.)

And a little vignette Olivia created today:

(An arrangement she made for no reason at all.  Except maybe to give me breathing lessons.)

What has taken your breath away lately?

In support of beauty

 

As I drive around Atlanta, appreciating the beauty of Spring, I uncover a thought I've been pondering.

My favorite blooms right now are on the redbud trees and on the dogwood trees.

I like the way, in their natural state, they reach out through the other trees and make everything look more beautiful.  

(Can you see the redbud blossoms above and the dogwood blossoms below?
Subtle, delicate.)

 They do not need to be center stage.

Rather, they support the beauty of the trees around them.
Like a brassiere.*

So that as I am driving along, I remember to look at the trees.
 All of the trees. 

And I think, "oh, I'm sorry.  I've been taking you for granted.

Thank you for your little flowers.  Thank you for your green backdrop.
You all make life more beautiful."

I want my jewelry to be like that.

I want to be a friend like that.
To support beauty.
Like a brassiere*.
Preferably underwire.

*Elizabeth Berg deserves credit for using the brassiere simile.  For more on that, read this.

The zoo within and the zoo without

Some pictures can call up a memory so clearly that I vividly feel what I felt the moment the picture was taken.
 

This picture brings me such a moment.
And that moment makes me chuckle.

(Eddie and Jackson with cousin Will)

We visited Hogel Zoo in Salt Lake City with cousins during Spring Break

(mental note: South in the spring!).

(The first morning of our vacation.  No wonder we aren't tan!)

Eddie, so much my son, was people watching at the zoo.

His wry comment, "there's the zoo and there's the zoo."

With this he tipped his head at the folks surrounding the cages.

Heh.

He noticed.

(Jackson, Will and Eddie unwillingly standing still for a photo-op)

The teenage boys then went wandering off to take pictures of things they considered humorous.  

Of those, I will share this:

 (Though I don't think it's nearly as funny as they do!  I was there once.  With them.)

But the rest will be their story to tell.

And when they do, I will chuckle.

You can't always get what you want

Remember how I wanted that big, fat doughnut last month?

I finally had it.

I hosted my book club friends.

We read my favorite book.

I served this:

The chocolate frosted Bavarian custard filled doughnut was not as good as I remembered.

Has that ever happened to you?

You crave something but the reality is not as good as the memory. 

And not just with food.  Sometimes with people.  Or activities.  Or last summer's favorite outfit.

However, this was pretty darn good:

Doug made the crust, I made the filling, and Olivia decorated.

In the story, "How to Make an Apple Pie," Flo, the aging "neighbor lady" writes to a now grown Ruthie about the apple pie Ruthie helped make when she was young.

It is one of my favorite stories in the book.

And not just because we read and reread it so we could get the ingredients just right.  

Tell me, when you do read it, what is the "secret ingredient" she promises to share?

I wish you could taste it.

It was a perfect "bright sweet, not a dull one."

This is because of the lemon and green apple combination.

"you always need lemon even if it's just a little because a lemon is like a brassiere, it offers support even though you can't hardly see it."

You really have to just read it.

You will fall in love with Flo.

And you will want to make an apple pie.

Housekeeping

The cherry blossom petals cover the ground.

Trudy brings them in on her fur.

 I sweep the floors. 

And sweep.

And sweep.

Okay, I am not really complaining.
And I'm not really sweeping, either.

(I know I am obsessed with this tree.  It is a part of our lives in the Spring.  Like who we are here.  How can someone who proposes to appreciate beauty not talk about this tree every day?)

Renewal

As I listen to  to the words of those who are able to express what I feel, I am grateful.

What a beautiful Easter day.  

I am reminded it is all about love.

  Knitting and listening to words of faith while the cherry blossoms snow.

I love General Conference weekend.

A peek inside the package

 Surprise!

Japanese cherry blossom skirt.  Not the blossoms she was missing, but cheery.

Project Runway?

I know an Easter dress is not what Easter is about.
I really do.
If I were more eloquent I might attempt to express my feelings about Christ's resurrection.
But my words are unable to express such deep emotion.
Instead, I create pretty things.

And hope a new Spring frock (or frockette) reminds her of fresh beginnings.

I read this on a painting at the Artwalk last night:

"We teach our daughters to reach for the moon. 

But sometimes it really is all about a cute dress."

Apropos my brilliant daughter.

What about you?  Can you express your feelings about Easter.
I would love to hear.
And I would love to hear about your new Spring frock.

brown paper packages

I want to give her the world.

Or this:

But instead I send this:

I can't tell you what is inside until she opens it.

Stay tuned...