HomeLife
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. - Annie Dillard
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Breakfast Is Served
In our house, things like this are not really all that unusual. Wilder loves muffins. I bake them in bulk and then freeze them in batches of three to take out regularly. I thought my stash was all gone but when I looked in the freezer one evening recently I was pleasantly surprised to discover a bag with one wee little muffin left. “There’s breakfast,” I thought and placed the frozen muffin inside its bag on the counter to thaw through the night. Next morning, I grabbed the bag and prepared to dump the muffin out. Quickly, I realized that I was not actually holding a thawed banana bran muffin…
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confessions of a bad soccer mom
I am a bad soccer mom. I purposely park the stroller at the end of the field where no one else is. I usually don’t stroll right up to the line of canvas foldable chairs and picnic blankets placed down the sidelines. I’m not that mom that the whole team knows and who hugs and high-fives all the little players as they exit the field. That’s not me. I don’t know why exactly. I don’t dislike those people. Shoot, I don’t even know those people. I think maybe I feel inadequate. I am usually late. Soccer uniform-clad kids rushing down the hill before Kevin and I wheel the double stroller down…
Keep Reading . . .
five finds friday (ukuleles & queso)
rocks & roots
the burrow: a fireplace update
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Surprise! It’s My Birthday
You know we love guests at this house. And we love this one guy who likes to pop over on occasion – our friend Bob. We met Bob back at old Campbell University when Kevin and I were but newlyweds. Bob let us know he would be in the neighborhood and asked if he could stop by. Who would say no to Bob? He treats our family like his family. He carries kids on his shoulders. He reads stories and draws pictures with them, and of them. (He’s a gifted artist.) He makes desserts with them and often treats us to his delicious homemade baklava. Bob makes edible finger paint…
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why I love this photo
Because my friend Jane took it with her flashy new Nikon. Because Hawkeye is wearing one of my favorite t-shirts. (You can’t really appreciate it since its view is obstructed, but I know it’s there. It features the band The Who. I picked it up at Target for $2.00. But I like it because Hawkeye calls it his “behind blue eyes” shirt.) Because it is so Real Life At Our House. I mean, seriously. Just look at Hawke’s knees.
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Fingers
You may be thinking, “Uh. This photo is kind of . . . not that great.” Well. This might look like a blurry, poorly executed attempt at the classic “tiny hands” photograph. But it is not. It is actually a photograph of a game. (Probably not truly invented by Keigley kids, but don’t tell them that please.) It’s a game alright. A game called Fingers. It travels anywhere. And it costs nothing. And I would say it might even be worthy of making one of Tyler Stanton’s boredom-busting games posts. (Are you reading this Tyler? Remember how you said you would write a guest post for me one day? What…
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An Update
Remember that one post where I talked about how tired I was of poor customer service at Wal-Mart? And how I vowed not to shop there for the entire month of March? Well. I haven’t forgotten about that promise. Or about the fact that I had more comments on that post than on any other. (Still not sure how that makes me feel exactly, but what can you do?) Anyway. It’s been two months now. Because that’s how I roll. Late. And I am pleased to announce – avoiding Wal-Mart has not actually been that difficult. At all. But I won’t lie. I will make my confession here. Declare my…
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simple.
Tell me this isn’t beautiful. It’s the Real Deal. And it’s one of my favorite types of beauty – the practical kind. Oh, how I love when Function meets Beauty. A fresh strawberry smoothie. As in – these strawberries were picked only hours before they were blended harmoniously together in my lame Black & Decker blender. And as if fresh, in season, local strawberries were not beauty enough on their own . . . there’s the glass. Isn’t it cute? It, too, is another pleasing little example of Beauty. The beauty of finding a great deal on a tiny treasure. This glass was purchased at the almost-giving-it-away price of $0.68.…
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Yes, You Can!
This weekend I took Bergen, Mosely and London to a community theatre’s production of Oliver. (It’s from my favorite Charles Dickens’ novel and I only just read it for the first time last year. How did I receive an English degree without reading that novel, Cumberland College? How?) I love community theatre. I miss it really. (And watching the show reminded me of how much I liked that stage scene. And I think I did a pretty decent job when that was my field of expertise. Despite what that one off-off-off-off Broadway director said when I brought him his requested red candles. “No. No,” he scolded me. “I want…
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Surprise!
My dad used to be a dairy farmer. (That’s how I mostly remember my father. I used to describe him as Grizzly Adams. I think it’s a pretty fair comparison.) After selling the farm Dad sold tractors and such for a while. (Yellow and green tractors. Naturally.) And then he moved to Wyoming. (Uh – for some reason I cannot even remember what he did as gainful employment out there, although I do recall that he once starred in a role in a local theatre’s production of Annie. But I am pretty sure he was never financially compensated for that.) At any rate. Now he lives in Florida. And he…
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This Is A True Story
Sometimes I am convinced that my children are actually better people than me. Kinder than I am. More compassionate. Speedier in love and more perceptive. For example . . . It had been a long day. Long. And I was home trying to get the younger kids corralled after soccer practice. Riley was hanging out with friends. Kevin was working. I was trying to feed Wilder his last bottle before bed. Finn was dumping rubber stamps on the floor and spilling blue ink. Bergen was sitting on the red chest trying to remove his cleats. Mosely had already removed her cleats and wanted to put them away in the red…
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Soccer – Let the Games Begin!
The season has started. In all its glory. (Okay, there really is not much glory – but the kids sure look cute in their uniforms, Riley is a great assistant coach and Piper is a pretty effective cheerleader.) We’re just at the beginning of the season but it’s funny already. There’s the I-expected-this-but-not-from-you – Hawkeye. He pretty much just wants to drink the water from his cool new officially-sanctioned-by-his-soccer-team water bottle. “Berg, don’t you want to play?” I ask. He answers, “Mommy, I think you should write my whole name, B-E-R-G-E-N, on my water bottle instead of just the B you already wrote.” While everyone is running after the ball…
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At First Glance
What you are looking at here is no ordinary ball. It’s a rubber band ball. But that’s not all. It is also the culmination of a dream. The hope of many months and much pondering and a quite intense pursuit. For Mosely, anyway. That kid thinks she created the concept of a ball made entirely of rubber bands. And she has been attempting to collect enough random loose rubber bands for a very long time now. But she was having a rather difficult time accumulating enough to make a difference. But no longer. Placed in front of her one day by Daddy, Mosely was given the holy grail in rubber…
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Little Lions
After some substantial debate as to how spend last Saturday, our family ended up attending a festival held at our daughter’s school. It was nice. We ate BBQ, listened to story telling, looked at a few crafts, petted a goat or three and bounced in inflatable squares of craziness. But one thing we did not do while at the festival was let the kids get their faces painted. There was no reason really. It just didn’t happen. The line was too long or we were too hungry or whatever. I don’t know. But when we got home the kids could not stop talking about how all they really wanted was…
