About that “beating pillow cases with tennis rackets” phrase: My friend Teri has been going through a lot of difficult trials lately. One after the other would hit her over the head with no warning and no relief or solution in sight and of course no logical explanation. Times can get tough exponentially sometimes and coping is so difficult when it goes on day after day after day… She’s a trooper of course and she has held her own better than anyone else I know. I love that I am surrounded by strong friends but it’s so hard when you see a friend going through a difficult time and you just don’t know how to help. I’m sure I have in my own way but not as much as I wish I could.

Teri recently flew up to Seattle to visit some friends and a friend of her’s booked her some kind of temper-tantrum therapy session. I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous but the truth is, it worked and it was amazing according to Teri. At one point during her trip she texted me that she was going to “beat pillows with tennis rackets” and the phrase stuck with me because that was the level of rage I was feeling at that moment as I dealt with the security measures it takes to prove that you are you and you are not trying to hack your own website. Seriously.

And guess what? My doctor called me today and my thyroid is totally normal. Boo. I guess I’m just ill-behaved and I need to work harder to manage my moods.  Not the answer I was hoping for but I am actually thankful that I am healthy. That’s always a good thing. Ha!

Another phrase Teri introduced me to is “hortons.” She has three nearly-grown-up girls and they refer to their hormones as hortons. As in, “I have too many hortons and they are sucking up my will to live.” Isn’t that the perfect word for hormones? Kind of like a giant elephant in the room who we are ignoring even though he is so big he is taking up the entire living room rug and his nasty peanut breath is stifling everyone.

Bug has hortons. They are hitting big time and they are crazy all over the place. The poor girl had it coming with two (moody) artists for parents. I knew this would happen and I know I am the best person equipped to help her through puberty but it rips my heart out to see her go through what I have gone through all these years. The highs are so high, the lows are so low. We’re not talking bi-polar or anything, though I’m sure in some circles it would be considered that. But it is really hard when things are low.


So when we actually agreed on a costume to make for Alphamom this year and Bug actually liked doing the craft with me and wasn’t forced against her will, you can imagine how happy that made me.  It was like old times! I miss crafting with this girl. I often find myself going through old posts to find something and when I see her chubby little three-year-old cherub face as she paints with me, it just makes me want to build a time machine and go back and steal her! And then she wanted to go take pictures with me!  My favorite model wanted to be photographed!!! It was the best.  She was so fun. I could take pictures of her all day long. Wait. Maybe I’ve already done that. (Scratches head, furrows eyebrows.)

She is still fun. She has the best sense of humor and she cracks me up like nobody’s business but she also has a free will and crafting and modeling are NOT her thing presently. Dang it. She’ll watch DIY channels on Youtube all day long and primp in the mirror for hours but crafting/photographing with mom is sooooo 2008. (Rolls eyes until they fall out and roll away on the floor, leaving a bloody trail.)


Payam took this picture of us a few days ago and I love it so much. Of course you have no idea by looking at it what is actually going on. It looks like a mom and daughter who love each other and who are having a great time but what you don’t actually know is that we are in the middle of an argument about how we should pose our feet. Bug is two seconds away from being exasperated with me because it’s sooooo difficult to stand like I am and she can barely hold her body up and she’s tiiiiiiiiiiired and taking pictures is DUMB. People who take pictures and post them on their phones are dumb and if her mom would look up from her phone once in a while she would realize that her daughter is starving for attention and life is going by and look there’s a pretty bird in the tree but never mind you would NEVER understand, so I’m just going to go play minecraft for the rest of the day. Send food. Preferably tacos, or In-and-Out but nothing with gooey cheese because that’s disgusting.


So yeah. We’ve got hortons in this house. And by we, I’m including myself. It’s been tricky, especially for Payam and I know it’s only going to get worse. I’m thinking maybe the girls and I will have a tennis-racket-meet-pillow session when they come back next week. It would probably be good for all of us.

Also, aren’t they most beautiful girls you have ever seen? Puberty is a fickle pickle.

Beating Pillows with Tennis Rackets


Guess what?! My site is back up! Well, duh. You wouldn’t be reading this if it wasn’t. But let me tell you it is good to be back. Hallelujah Praise the Lord! You know what this last week of dark and depressing no-site-hood has taught me? A LOT. It’s been one hell of a week. It has cemented my feelings about this blog. In an age where blogs are quickly going out of style or becoming over-produced mega sites that make you feel like you’re reading about a fictional character, I remain loyal to this old hag.

I think I went through the five stages of grief or however many there are. I don’t actually know what those are. I know I’ve been hinting and complaining for years that this site is old and moldy and I might as well just put the old nag out to pasture but the thing is I’m not ready to just up and throw away my archives! So many years of content!! Remember the story of breast feeding Baby Bug? Or the ninja movie, or all those stories about the Things?!! I could go on and on. What about the turquoise wall or that amazing trip Bug and I took in a Uhaul out to the sticks.

Le sigh. There are so many stories and pictures stored on my server that it has become a burden. I doubt I could ever afford to download the whole monstrosity into a book. That would be cha-ching, CHA-ching! Cha-Ching! Imagine $100 coins dropping out of my wallet, slot machine-style and mounding at my feet in knee-high hills of gold shimmery-ness. I know I still need to do that but I’ve actually got a better idea if anyone out there wants a great big book idea.

What if I wrote about all my crafts that I’ve done over the last fifteen some odd years (most of them over at Alphamom)…I could tell the stories in between the crafts and have a ton of photos that I’ve never actually published before. It could be like a giant coffee table book of photos and behind the scenes stories (Just think of all the pinterest fails!) all interwoven, scrapbook style into something really pretty. Sort of like the book, Under the Tuscan Sun but NOT  like the movie because that was stupid and Hollywood-like with a plot and a love story and I’m not ready to write about my love story. But I could include some juicy bits just to keep it interesting. Does that sound like a good idea? I’m hoping so. Maybe that will be my big idea that I sell and then I can use the proceeds to build a loft in Payam’s house because I desperately feel like I need a room of my own, Virginia Wolf style.


I love, love, love Payam’s house. It really is beautiful but I’m desperate for some space of my own. I just need some blank walls that I can shoot photos in front of. His house has these amazing vaulted ceilings that we love so we’ve been plotting ways to put in a loft over the kitchen where there is currently an attic. It’s a brilliant idea but way out of our budget by like a hundred thousand dollars so it’ll happen on the tenth of never. But I can dream and who knows, maybe somebody out there reading this will like my crazy book idea and I can pitch it to a real company with an actual layout and a plan. I think I could do that, given the chance.

Not that this is a begging post by any means. Just spitting my ideas out there, stream-of-conscious style like I used to do back in the day. That’s the part of this blog that worked. When I just wrote for the sake of writing and I didn’t really care about traffic or worried about keeping up with the Whoorls of the world. I’m done with that.

Big paragraph here about that friendship that ended but I’m deleting it because I’m not quite ready to put all my feelings about that out there. (Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything she did to me. She’s still a wonderful person I’m sure. It’s just purely distance and time and different journeys, or whatever.) But it’s been hard for me not to miss that friendship or wonder why her blog is so successful while I make less and less time for mine and it just sits over here and rots. I could seriously go on for days about this and I do at four am when I should be sleeping but I’m going to make a conscious effort to move on. It’s been way too long. I’ve chosen a different path and maybe my path is the right one for me. I don’t think I could handle being famous anyway. The 10 percent hater formula is way too scary.


The week of no website taught me a lot about my dark thoughts, feelings of failure and overall drama of emotions. It was so bad I even finally went to the doctor and got my thyroid checked because it felt like PMS every day. My doctor told me I might have an enlarged thyroid and that it could certainly cause mood swings so I finally got it scanned. I haven’t gotten my results yet but I’m really hoping he’ll call me up and say, Guess what? You have hyperthyroidism so take a pill and you’ll lose weight and be happy all the time!  Hahaha! Wouldn’t that be the American Dream?

Wow, I just noticed that I didn’t carry the left white bar all the way down on my grid of pictures up there. I do crap like that all the time. Half-assed-ness that the Whoorls of the world do not do. Normally, I would go back and fix it but I really want to finish this celebratory stream-of-consciousness post and get it published before I have to pick up the girls from school. Yeah, that’s the other reason I don’t write as much. Life is full of stuff. Like kids with their own minds and puppies that have to be walked or they eat up your plants and cause stage three destruction to your idyllic backyard that is no longer idyllic and instead is a wasteland of pavers and dog pee and dead chewed-up plants.


There goes my pick-up-the kids alarm! I love you! Thank you for still being here blog and readers and commenters and lurkers (I love lurkers of which I am one!) and decorative gourds! Happy decorative gourd season to everyone! Hope I get back here to post again before it’s over.

Oh yeah. I never told you what beating pillows with tennis rackets means. I’ll get to that next time. But I’m sure you have an idea.