All over the U.S., we are experiencing horrible drought conditions.  Our yard is falling dormant and walking across it sounds like crunching leaves in the fall.  My daughter is particularly tired of being cooped up inside to avoid the intense heat.  I hadn't noticed how difficult this was to her until we went shopping the other day and she took great joy in running up and down the aisles.  I know, I'm sorry my kid is "that kid", but if you had seen the joy of freedom on her face, perhaps you would have realized, as I did, that the poor thing has needed to do that for some time now. 

We fiercely need rain.  Not a light rain, but a good solid rain that comes and goes over the course of a few days.  My flowers are all shriveling up and trying to shrink from the scorching blaze that never seems to go away, even at night time.  (I know that doesn't make sense, but when the nightly low is 84 I have decided the sun must come out again while we are sleeping to keep things so hot.) 

The dry conditions remind me of a time when my brother and I were young.  We were both still in elementary school.  It had been hot and dry for awhile and everyone was complaining we needed rain.  I don't remember who had the idea first, but we got it in our heads to do a rain dance.  We took brown grocery bags cut and painted them for costumes.  We made headdresses with feathers on them and proceeded to do a rain dance in the middle of our driveway.  I can promise you that we shamed Native American culture with whatever moves and chants we made up.  I don't think the dance lasted long.  I have a feeling the preparation of the whole thing was the real time commitment, but we did it. 

No... I mean we DID IT...we brought on the rain.  Later that evening it did, in fact, rain.  More than three drops.  Seriously, a good, solid rain.  The details of the dance and even the costumes are fuzzy.  I am sure my mom has a picture of us somewhere.  What I remember is that feeling that we DID IT!  We were so excited.  I remember feeling so POWERFUL!! We defied science and the weathermen.  Ha! 

I have been thinking of that memory often.  Not just the whimsical thought of getting out on my driveway and doing a rain dance to give my poor plants some relief, but also the sense of power and accomplishment that moment brought into my elementary-aged life.  It was like someone pouring a pitcher full of hope and moxie all over me.  In the last couple of years my life has changed drastically.  Completing a master's degree and going from a couple to a family of four has been a whirlwind of change, not always easy change either.  In that short time, I have had days where I have needed a pitcher of hope and moxie poured over me again.  New challenges await everyday.  Sometimes you may be living in a drought.  I am reminding myself, sometimes the rain will come, but sometimes you gotta make your own rain... you just gotta dance!


A Grey Hair Made Me Do It

For over a year now I have followed several blogs and loved looking into the lives of others, especially mothers, who I wanted to emulate, to be as cool, as crafty, as creative, as talented, as thrifty as each one of them.  It never dawned on me that I would ever write a blog myself.  It seemed above my reach, my life and small ideas never seemed to be good enough.  The perfectionist in me would never want to put out something this public that might show any flaws or weaknesses. 

And then one day...my darling honey and I were chatting briefly in the sunlight when he said to me, "What's that?" and then with far too much enjoyment plucked a wayward hair from my head.  Upon examing it closely my darling gleefully demonstrated that he had found a treasure: my first grey hair.  I have to admit it took my breath away and not in that "Top Gun"-theme-song-by-Berlin-way, but in the someone-hand-me-a-paperbag-and-quick-because-my-lips-are-turning-blue-from-lack-of-oxygen-way.  In his ever-so-supportive way, my darling partner in life also reminded me that with this new development it will be harder to lie about my age now.  (At this point, I have no intention of stopping this little charade.  The important part is that I buy into my own denial whether others do or not.)

Crossing this milestone in my life made me think that perhaps I could write something that others would find interesting or humorous.  But more than that, I think I am looking for a way to rage against the "dying of the light" (the light, in this case, maybe my youth and then perhaps my relevance).  So I begin this new journey of sharing my thoughts, projects and daily life in a public realm.  I hope to learn something along the way and maybe find a way to be less hypertensive should another errant grey hair find its way to my head.