i loved how most of our summer memories revolved on the same axis: pools, tree climbing, dirt, night games, camping, sunset, friends, family, relaxation, and great food. really, what could be better?

the pictures i take during summer are my salvation during the long utah winters. to be able to see that my lawn really will be green again, that in just a few months my children will be in swimsuits with popsicles dripping down their chins, that fruit will be in abundance soon... it gives me hope to make it through. my favorite childhood memories though always circle back to being outside, running a koolaid stand, climbing trees, laying out, and slumber parties.

our winner of dar's awesome pic and necklace was picked by a random number generator and is ~KAT~ who said:

"my favorite summer memories? well i have two. one was august 12, 2000 and the other was july 13, 2005. the days that my gorgeous and amazing children were born."

thank you all for participating, i wanted every one of you to win. come again on monday for another giveaway from the lovely kristen.

hope your weekend is glorious.

dear internettie-webbie-kins,

i'm stuck in a bad spot and need some ideas. i was asked to do centerpieces for 2 tables at a women's church christmas dinner, the theme being, "the christmas i remember most." i'm stressing out about it in the worst kind of way and am having a hard time keeping the proper attitude about it. i'm sure for most people reflecting on christmas's of yore and picking out the very best wouldn't be that difficult. but for me, i have three vivid christmas memories:

1) the year my dad left 2 weeks before christmas, never speaking to me until after he was gone.

2) we always had very meager christmas celebration growing up. when i was in the eighth grade i asked for a paddle brush. it seemed to me that all of the beautiful and popular girls had one and would brush their hair in the middle of class, i wanted more than anything to be seen as desirable (as i think that most 13 year olds do). i received three gifts that year, i don't even remember what the others were. but when i opened up that brush, my dad laughed and said, "there's your dog brush.

3) when i was 2 or 3 we were so poe that my parents had decided that christmas wasn't going to happen. i was young enough to be happy with no presents really. as my memory serves a few days before christmas a little girl in the neighborhood died, and all of the presents that were bought for her, were brought over to my house for me. i remember a doll and a carriage and a whole lot of pink. but i remember, despite my age, feeling guilt.

so my question to you is this, do i:
a) make up some awful centerpiece with hair brushes and caskets?
b) lie about my childhood memories and do a traditional christmas-y centerpiece?
c) use the happy christmas remembrances of my own children?

i do have memories of playing board games on christmas day.
i do remember that despite how poor we were, we ALWAYS had a secret santa that brought gifts and food to the house.
i do remember our christmas kick-off, decorating the house, baking goodies, listening to nat king cole.
but the christmas i remember most? . . . . .

am i the only one that has such awful christmas memories? please share, i want to hear your three most memorable christmas's for good or for bad. i've got until tuesday to pull these centerpieces together!

love,
jenica

this week i've thought a lot about which direction to take my weekly gratitude list and i keep on coming back to myself. so at the risk of sounding narcisstic, but more realizing that we each have so much to be thankful for:

i am grateful for my body.

my eyes. it doesn't matter how much weight i gain or lose, what color my hair is, or what time of year it is; i think my eyes are beautiful. i'm grateful for long, thick eyelashes. i remember when i was 5 years old i had this frou-frou lace dress that i wore to church. it was yellow with layers upon layers of white and yellow lace. i would lift the lace on the sleeves up to my face and then bat my eyes at strangers. i felt so beautiful.

my eyes; this time to see with. i'm grateful that through my contacts or glasses i can see leaves and pine needles from a distance. i can read the words on a page. i can recognize those that i love as they walk towards me. i can photograph the beauty of the world.

my muffin top. strange as it may be, when i look at my stretched belly i'm reminded of my four happy pregnancies, my four healthy babies, my ability to conceive. this year i have learned many, many lessons from wonderful women about the pains of infertility. my soul has ached for my friends and i've learned just how lucky i am to have that muffin top.

my voice, i'm grateful for the gift of song, for speech, for laughter.

my hands; with them i soothe a child's tears, paint a canvas, touch and fold paper, crochet scarves and monsters. my hands reach out and hug, caressing the neck and hair of my babies. for the ability to write real letters.

my legs and feet; to carry me wherever i want to go. to run 3.5 miles last night, stopping only because the gym closed. to wear happy socks and fishnets.

my spirit; the ability to discern and read others, to feel their spirits, and recognize their souls. for intuition and direction in my life granting warnings or caution when needed and bringing tears to my eyes for the sake of joy and happiness.

i am filled with gratitude today. i wish you very happiest of holidays, for memory filled and made days, for love wherever you are. xoxoxo

i'm going to start a series of "i remember when" postings. there are bits and pieces of our lives that make up the tapestry of who we really are, moments in time that help to later define us, our core values, the paths of our lives. there are things that haunt us, that can consume our daily thoughts. i need to let them out, let them fly away.

i was pregnant with my third child when i received the news, steve was dead. i stared at the blinking cursor on the IM screen, surely my friend had been mistaken, steve was going to be a doctor, a collector of european sports cars, a falconer! he couldn't be dead. but he was. he drank himself to death. he had died alone, heartbroken and depressed.

as the reality of the situation set in i began to add up the time that we had spent together. we had never had a normal relationship, i had always been the girl on the side; he had a long time girlfriend the entire time we had dated. but as i added up the time we actually spent together i realized that i had dated him for 8 months in total. while i had never considered him to be my boyfriend, i had been with him for longer than i had with anyone other than my husband.

after we had broken up i never spoke to him again. i went on in life and got married, shutting the door completely on past relationships. i did run into his girlfriend shortly after i had my first child, she happily informed me that they were still together, seven years at that point. i was happy to hear that news, happy that they had worked things out. their relationship had always been up and down, back and forth; they were both prone to cheating on one another, but they always ended up back together. in january of the year he died she had broken things off for good and he spiraled down into the depths of depression.

when the shock and numbness wore off that day in may i became angry with him, livid even. i closed the door to my bedroom and screamed to him. why would he let his life waste away like that? he was so smart, so funny, so caring. how could all of that disappear? the anger was short-lived. i crumpled into a heap on the floor, tears spewing out as the sadness overcame me.

after crying for about 20 minutes over the life that steve would never leave, guilt began to set in. this guilt was two fold. i felt awful that i hadn't been there for him. before and during the time we were together he was my closest friend. we understood one another in ways that no one else could. why couldn't i have been there for him during this time in his life? i would have seen the signs, i would have gotten him the help he needed. maybe i could have stopped the heavy drinking at the critical moment.

i looked at the clock and the second sweep of guilt washed over me. my husband was due home from work any moment. i love my husband dearly, how could i let the life of another man effect me so deeply? i had a happy wonderful life, pregnant with my third child, deeply in love; truly i had everything i wanted. i tried to pull myself together before he arrived, but i was quickly failing. i dialed a friends number and in a rush explained the situation to her, all of the guilt and sadness tumbling out my mouth as the tears streamed down my face. she immediately answered my question: how could i let this effect me so deeply? because he was a piece of my puzzle; he had been a sincere part of my landscape. and while i was finished with it, when i look over that time of my life there will always be a portion missing.