the 33-year-old frosting rose

I am currently in idaho because I am a good and selfless daughter. ok, so maybe there are other, less laura ingalls wilder reasons. like, I can't help but want to go through every square inch of my parents 3300 square foot home with countless closets and crannies (otherwise known as crammies) saying to my mother, "really, you want to keep this? I mean, it's ugly and out-dated and serves no purpose past or present and certainly won't serve any future purpose other than sitting on this overstuffed shelf." and so continues the hours and the days. closet after closet, cupboard after cupboard. you try having 4 children, and being raised by obsessive compulsive religiously guilt ridden, frugal as f*@# parents from the depression and not having a house full of shit you don't need.

examples: warranty manuals for a cassette deck purchased in 1983, wrapping paper from every birthday gift ever received and opened, carefully removed and then folded up and put away for future birthdays, 46 (I counted) unburned candles, a sears christmas catalog from 1988, one small lumpy unrecognizable item I could not identify until my mom informed me was a decorative edible rose from their wedding cake, shoved in their collective faces almost 33 YEARS AGO. a 33 year-old frosting rose.

now of course there are other awesome finds like my dad's banjo picks that I remember putting on the small of my childhood fingers, and the porcelain grape tea set that my mom and I would tea party together with, and oh, the soft and lovely floral of the sheets that covered my mother's 16-year-old bed.

today is only day 2. one day down and pounds and pounds of garbage thrown. but also, good times spent with my mom, and happy memories remembered. and the bad memories? put in their proper place - the city dump.

and another reason

why I love LA #813

family history

in the process of going through some old photos, I came across this gem. my family circa 1893 as told by 1993. frozen in a time both real and imagined. a fake setting capturing some real love.
(click on the pic for maximum viewing pleasure.)

bowl a mile in my shoes

in times like these, when everything is uncertain -- friends (not friend, but friendS) moving out of your fair city, rent yet to be payed one week into the month, the weight of all life's glorious possibilities lying heavy on your chest -- there is only one thing to do... go bowling. drink gin and tonics with dirty limes. eat lumpy nachos and cheesy pizza. wipe the grease on your jeans before you stick those faithful digits of yours into the mysteries of a public bowling ball. laugh at how good or how bad you are. keep your mind in and your ball out of the gutter. enjoy the sound of a strike and the bright of florescence shining on polished wood. it is here that we can revel in the sight of another man bowling in our shoes. look around. we are not alone.

we all do

eventually, our siblings will marry and our friends with get pregnant, and we will be forced to realize that we are no longer children. our families will expand and our friends will become parents. this crazy fact is both beautiful and alarming. and as we watch our brothers say I do, we think of our own weddings. and as we watch our friends change their daughter's diaper, we think of our own plans.

my brother just got married. it was a simple wedding set in the woods of north idaho. the bride wore flip flops and the groom wore a tuxedo t-shirt. the wedding party was comprised of their three children. it was truly a beautiful ceremony that made even the mountain men shiny-eyed.

our family was together.

when you see your family grow as the vows are made, you realize how complicated such a thing as family can be. if you're lucky you will like all the additions, but that doesn't always happen, and then what? do you love your sibling less for the mess of a partner they choose? and what if your friend bears and then raises a bratty child? will their choices drive you apart? life is this shifting thing that we are always wanting to hold still. but the calm we seek would make us crazy. life and love and family and friendship are complicated things, but we partake in them because the alternative is so quiet. we fill our lives with the things that make music. sometimes it is beautiful music and sometimes it just sounds like noise. but the absence of this music would break every experience. and so we keep surrounding ourselves with the sound and complication of love and we dance when it moves us and accept all the other times when we want to plug our ears. the lonely of quiet keeps us listening to the music of life.