Urban Organica

graffiti

I think y'all know how I love grafitti.  And color.  Aren't feeling so in love?  Maybe you just need to pick a wall to write on.  Isn't love an act of declaration?

I'm also loving this skivvies tutorial.  And these free numerology reports.  She's pretty right on.  I've entered info for 6 loved ones, & we're having quite the parlor conversation over it all.  Go on, try it!

It's always funny to walk around believing ourselves to be self-made, only to be reminded of how much we were actually given.  To find again that we are just a bit of some crazy giant picture.  But that's why I blog at this point.  To be small, one of the gajillions of bloggers out there.  It feels good to have these full, complex lives, then to distill it into some little random moment that we happened to have shot on film.  Making it even smaller.  It's a personalized version of what I do all day, walking through the woods looking for salamanders, Indian Peace Pipes or bits of mica.  I'm scanning through massive amounts of visual input, looking for something interesting, usually tiny, some little piece of life that's gone unnoticed, some temporary treasure.  

One of my favorite tricks as a kid was to announce, "I'm going to show you something that no one's ever seen before, & no one's ever going to see again!"  And then to produce a peanut shell, which I would crack open before promptly eating the peanut.  I found it in a library book & thought it tremendously clever in it's truthfullness.  That is the nature of blogging, to reveal some unseen, probably frivolous, sure-to-be-missed moments.  Something about catching that beauty is so interesting to me, like a response to the miracle-purity-sadness-mystery of every unique snowflake that melts, never to be known.  There's so much out there that I'll never see, & I appreciate all the bloggers that give me glimpses into what they've found to be beautiful & interesting.

Molly gave a little review of Julie & Julia that made me laugh.  I didn't know it featured a blogger, but I love thinking of her crying at the screen to Avery's dismay, so moved by the familiar portrayal of these two women's lives.  Molly's a fiercely authentic writer, powerful in her willingness to be public.  It's a strange thing to write from your life, sharing 1/10,000th of your day, but to be perfectly aware it looks like you are sharing about your actual life.  I think often about stopping this blog, but blogging families have made a big difference for me.  They talk about what works in their homes, what doesn't, their mistakes.  We don't parent as a village in this life, & yet it's somehow possible for me to get curriculum ideas from a homesteader in rural Australia.  It's only right to reciprocate.  The friendships I've made here & the feedback I get about sharing our choices has me keep sharing, albeit tentatively, while I explore this balance between my love of privacy & my belief in the contribution it is to be transparent.  Once again, the truth is somewhere in the middle...

soup + warming stations

It's 5 am, East Coast time.  Before the recession, I used to take the boys all day long & try to fit in time for myself whenever I could, which wasn't often.  Mostly because one can't find time for themselves if they are forever sticking their kids into everything they do.  I'm in love with family time. It's what I know best, it's where I feel the coziest & most protected.  I never really knew that I was drained until I cracked, agitated & worn out, bantering on about how I don't get to make things or travel the world.  Once I hit those walls the world would turn black & white for a few hours - yes, hours, as I lamented over how much I've given up for this dream I'm living.  D has always said I married too young, that he caught a girl with wanderlust.  He's right, except for the "too" part.  I plan on fitting these guys into all of my dreams, & I'm slowly learning the art of sequencing my hopes over time & space.

At home D would be working upstairs, & I'd take the kids on field trips.  We would both manage our businesses in our own ways, with him doing all the collaborating, the managing, & the "doing," while I'd coach our partners & management.  Of course, my love is the arts & contribution, so as the recession made it more & more clear that this was not the time for a green exotic car share, & I became less & less enamored with our partner's laser surgery clinics, I started to feel less & less inspired.  I'd look at my unfinished garments & illustrations.  I'd think, "I just want to work all day."  Really, I just wanted to control what was happening.

my ca "office," complete with dirty toddler socks + someone in my chair 

It hurt to lay off people we love, to close the doors on D's gorgeous garage, but it was happening with all of our peers.  It hurt me in a more intimate way to stop giving.  We've always had to budget ourselves, but we've always been lucky enough to be able to create incomes for others.  We've always gifted causes that were meaningful to us, even if we only had $60 in our bank account.  All the rules have changed, & it's an adventure trying to figure out the flow right now.  Do you hold on & hoard what's there, but then stop the flow?  

I think D & I lose vitality when we do that.  There's something about our nature that wants to be free-er than free, to hold on to nothing, while still experiencing the very best of life.  None of this energy is really ours, anyways, it comes from other sources & wants to go back out again.  Like if finances were water, most people are public water fountains that supply small amounts as needed, not holding on to much at all.   Some folks are great lakes with dams that hold everything back for themselves.  We want to be part of a delta, part of a great, lively ecosystem with constant movement.  It just feels like such a healthy image to hold, this idea of money, literally bio-survival tickets, circulating around & around, reaching every living creature, feeding & being changed by everything it touches.  And us, just a part of all that.

So now I'm here working, in a blessed part of the world that includes sitting in front of an endless glistening lake, but inside, at my computer.  I watched D today, gathering up the boys, one in every size, gathering snacks, snapping up their "buckle-buckles" (life jackets), basically wrangling 3 unwieldy animals.  He's yelling, he's tender.  He's military, he's present & listening to their ongoing narrative.  He's amazing.  They head out in the boat, all 4 of them tan with glints of gold in their hair.  And I'm thinking, "I just want to play all day." 

I'm so grateful for all the times he watched us leave without him.  He always said it was painful.  And my mama, working 3 jobs & not seeing us kids.  And my dad, a published writer & visionary, putting in all those years as a mail carrier.  Pops, working the fire department from beginning-to-end, with his electrical business on the side.  Work is work.  It can be a vocation. A calling, a joy.  And still, There's a physical element of wear & tear in every career.  There's people to love that we can't be with every second.  

So...when I do get to see them, I glad to have made some soup.  Because when they've been in the water & their lips are purple, it's nice to have a warming station of towels ready to lie on.  It's nice to have something warm to put in their bellies.  And even if they've been getting that all day already, I'm so glad to get a chance to help a little.

Rustic Lentil Soup + Quesadillas

In a pot throw 2 handfuls of wild rice, 2 handfuls of yellow lentils, 5 chopped celery stalks, 2 chopped carrots, 4 inches of water & some Organic Better-than-Bouillon.  Bring to a boil, lower heat & simmer for 40 minutes.  Shred organic white cheddar on 10 corn tortillas on baking sheets.  Broil to melt.  Stack the hot tortillas & cut into 6 wedges.  Pull them apart.  Serve the littles soup in mugs with a bit of milk to cool it off.  Feel comforted when they say it's the best soup they ever had, feel miffed when one announces, "I don't really like it."  Then be truly important & finish their food for them before going back to work.

Chickpea Nachos from my Forced Vacation

I never thought I'd be one of those folks who have to be forced to slow down.  Many times I've wondered at friends who must keep working, who can't stop, who want their vacations to end.   But I've never really been on so many deadlines before.  I won't explain why here, but I've been on a forced vacation the last few days, mostly because I just would not stop typing, drawing, designing, phone calling, typesetting, collaborating.  I haven't been sleeping, I've been on a sprint, I've been putting the kids down at nine, waking up at 1 & working until 5, then sleeping until 9 for 3 months.  Crazy.

So my mom said stop.  D said stop.  Everyone said stop.  So that's where I've been.  

Wonderfully, joyfully stopped.

And now I'm going again, at a much more balanced pace.

The Food

(Veggie Burgers on KinnickKinnick's YUMMY GF Buns, Steamed Broccoli with Lemon Juice & Sweet Potatoe Fries a la' Chris & Kim.)

All my good work books seem to fall in the lake.

The Office

Yes, I just get up from my desk, well, really a picnik table, & plop down on that bed & go to sleep now. Balance.  Just kidding.  Wouldn't that be something?  No, if I want to take a nap, I still have to wait until night time when the kids are sleeping, too.  I just get up, & go join them.  

Because there's still dishes & dinner to be made, after all.  Balance is never what we think.  It's just a little bit of everything.  

I've been working with  Tracy on redesigning the Gluten Free Lifestyle Kit.  We've been so sad to take this kit off the market, but it we've been adding all kinds of new features.  Here at the lake we eat Chickpea Nachos weekly!

Like all of those recipes, it comes together FAST (15 minutes!), is super-yummy & goes over with the boys.  I love not having to make a separate meal.

Chickpea Nachos

1 can chickpeas

1 lime or 1/2 lemon

cumin + chili powder

In a medium bowl, crush chickpeas with the back of a fork.  Sprinkle lotsa cumin & chili powder, squeeze with the citrus.  Stir & let sit.

1 bag blue chips

1 block of favorite cheese, shredded

2 green onions, chopped

1 can olives, sliced, or crushed

1 tomato, chopped

Spread chips evenly over a  large baking sheet.  Cover with chickpeas, cheese, green onions, olive & tomatoes.  Broil for a few minutes, watching carefully.  Use a spatula to divide into four sections, place in bowls & garnish with:

sour cream

salsa

romaine lettuce, shredded

See?  Fast, fast!!

cornhole vs organic family life

I am under a lot of pressure.  I know it doesn't look like it.  But it's true.  May I answer a couple of questions here?  (This has to do with the fact that there have been 7 NFL or college coaches & their wives on this island, 2 of them in my family.  I'll explain more in a minute). 

This island is obsessed with cornhole.  Cornhole.  On the dock.  In the woods.  Grown adults, college students, kids, toddlers, interior designers.  All throwing tube socks, filled with corn, into little holes.  Morning, noon & night.  It is very, very competitive.  Folks sit at the dining room table with their beers, dental floss, sewing needles & Sharpies, stitching regulation-approved bean bags. Really.  We mark them, Red.  Blue.  These bean bags have uniform colors.

The only person who can keep score is my truly brainiac brother-in-law, one of the aforementioned coaches.  The other ones sit at the sidelines, using their famous chicken-scratch to take field notes.  Hilariously, he's really the only one genius enough & confident enough to know the score at any given moment.  But I swear the rules change with the amount of alcohol consumed. 

With Dad & Grandpa watching this closely, my little guy takes on these bean bags with utmost reverence.

It is a metaphor for the over-all sense of competition here.  They compete in their sleep, gently, roughly, lovingly, seriously & lightly.  They do it with nudges, pushes, yelling, whispering, under their breath, as they give hugs & as they serve dinner.  It's great fun, because they are all deeply loving & encouraging, as well.

I love cornhole.  And I am non-competitive.  I'm no good at it.  I always end up jumping up & down, clapping & cheering on the others.  Even when I make the finals & lose at the last second.  I'm happy for them.   I can't get into it when folks are crushed over a loss.  Furious about a mistake.  Devastated over a game.  Winning or losing never affected my family paycheck, the mood in my home or where we moved next.  I try to be as compassionate as I can.  And I'm always ready to party when we win.

I've been asked a few questions up here in several different ways.

 Let me just answer...

~We are California natives.  We live in a community where "organic living" comes easy.  It is first nature & everything from the bikepaths to the grocery stores to the rec pool support our lifestyle.  Where we live, it is not extreme, far-fetched or difficult for our marriage.

~I birthed my babies at home, one with an MD who was equal partners with his midwives & 2 with midwives of over 30 years.  At all 3 births, those attendants were totally hands-off (with the exception of back rubs & loving words).  2 were born in the water & swam the first moments they were born.  One was born in my studio.  I worked, studied & visualized like an athlete before hand to have those births.  They were co-created with my boys, who were full participants in their births. 

~I am clear we are very lucky to have had those births.  There are folks we love who were even more intentional about their births. Mostly they went as planned, & sometimes they did not.  And they were the right births for those children, with meaning & gifts that showed up later.  

~I have been nursing or pregnant for over 8 years, with a break of 11 months.  I wear them constantly for the first 6 months. It helps me to know what their needs are & how they communicate, it let's them practice being resourceful & trusting the world, as I am their main resource then.  I tandem nursed the younger two.  I admit, it's difficult. I recommend that if it feels right.  But I hold that time in my heart, & those boys hold it in their smile & their swagger.  

~They have their own room, their own beds they use & they have a forever spot in our bed. 

~We are 100% organic in our home, from our mascara to our risotto.  And when we eat out, or with others, we are not.  Our chemical-free lifestyle is part of our healthcare.  

~We are clear that the vaccine decision is 12 different decisions.  That every parent needs to do their own research & come to their own right choice.  We are very informed on this subject, from what they are made of to the statistical, unbiased differences in the perceived dangers of aluminum vs. mercury.    That those who believe parents who opt out of certain vaccinations are "leaches," might first understand the history & purpose of each shot to make sure they are consistent & up-to-date with theirs, as well!  Our specific choices for each vaccine are personal, but let's just say that we nurse long enough & have our children home enough that most vaccines do not even apply to us from both a personal health & the public health perspective, according to the American Medical Association!!  www.thevaccinebook.com

~My son is a vegetarian/pescatarian.  D & Free eat organic, free-range, grass-fed bison & beef.  I eat organic, free-range chicken.  And we actually pray for "animal angels," bred or harvested specifically to help nourish our bodies & planet.  We did this after a decade as vegetarians.  We are a gluten-free family.  Are diets will shift as we shift.

~We are project-based "life-learners."  I was a homeschooler.  That feels healthy & right to me. The problems I have are problems that arise out of my larger commitments.  Worthwhile problems.  I start everything from the idea that any resource is available, any skill can be acquired.  We want this for our kids.  We support public schools & are part of a public charter created for homeschoolers.  They pay us to homeschool.

~We bike everywhere as our main source of transportation.  Our whole town does.

~I identify as a Filipino-American.  I am Pinay, I come from a huge & amazing tribe.  We belong to a culture based in an entirely different country, with 7,007 islands of it's own.

Whew!  

That's a long list of answers up there.  I don't walk around with a list or use my lifestyle as an ongoing conversation topic.  I expect differences.  However, I'm expected to use those differences to compete. On my sensitive soul, it often feels like I'm being asked to explain myself.  So.  This is my explanation. 

I have made examined choices.  I hope everyone does.  I feel empowered in those choices.  They are not better than anyone else's, & I may change my mind.  I can't compare my mothering, marriage or eating to others.   The rest is spilled milk.

road trip :: wine country

We drew bingo cards for the ride & packed into the truck for an "andventcher."  We cut up post-it's for markers & have a new favorite phrase: 

"A boat! Hand the man a post-it!"

"Sheep!  Sheep! Hand the man a post-it!"

Soon enough Bake was squishing grape ghosts in this ancient press.  White paint + embossed metal + weathered wood + chocolate rust &...and...metallic-Mediteranean-blue-green.  The trip could have ended, right there.  

but every mama lives for moments like these

and a matching caterpillar helps, too.  if we're going for my idea of nirvana, it for sure includes caterpillars.  especially ones that look like cats.  i didn't know kai could "mew."

  

i just have to say...he is so fine.

inspiring.  those folks could be from just about any era.  that water's been winding since the beginning of time.

california

we want one.

bocce-ball...

like shooting stars coming out of the ground.  (we maybe made a few wishes)

a little learning action...

this water comes from the center of our Earth...

it's nothing less than spiritual.  

soaked & happy.

baby chardonnay...

epic landscapes

we really, really want one. a lifetime's supply of wool, to boot.

we jumped off a small cliff in bodega bay.  "oh my gosh!  this is crazy!  it's so cold! it's so cold!  i feel so alive!!"

run, mom!  come on!  run! 

two loves of my life while the babies slept in the car.  freezing.  rushed.  filled up.

we went home when the sun was spent

it's "andventcher" season...go play

loving this picture

the way you hold your boy.  those glasses.  the way you look through the camera straight at me.  the lime green rooster on your sweater.  knowing you were feeding one boy breakfast while giving another boy love & chatting with your mama.  how your collar is up with no effort.  you on a weekend, relaxed & happy, even though i insist on taking pictures.  you.  and our little riri.

one & a half months 'till the lake my love.  almost there.

how to make a quick fabric picture frame

One more thing I found at her house ~ a little picture frame True & I made when he was 3.  We just took one of those cheap cardboard frames from Hallmark with the plastic for glass & covered it.  These can cost as little as .25 cents if you get ones after a holiday.  They're also a good way of recycling fabric because they are so small.  I'm thinking it would be cute to make a few out of kids clothes to match their pictures!  (If only I could somehow bottle up their smell & the feel of their hugs.)

 We make these often, 'cause their cheap but classy little "prizes" to give to loved ones. I think they look lovely.  It comes together in about 15 minutes, more with "help."  It should be allowed to dry overnight.

Materials:

Paper frame

Mod Podge - matte, or white glue

Paint Brush

Pretty Fabric

Thin decorative paper like rice paper or wrapping paper. (I sometimes will use paper napkins!)

Fabric Scissors

How To:

* Remove plastic & set aside.  

* Carefully rip front & back stand from the base.  

* Take the fabric & lay it right-side down on your work surface.  Lay frame on it, right side down & trace opening + around the sides.  Now draw an additional line 1/4" around the outside & within opening outline.  These will be your cut lines.

* Cut along those 2 new lines.  To make it form to the frame, you'll need to make a few darts.  At each corner of the frame, cut a little square by cutting from the outside edges into the corner.   Inside of the frame opening, make a series of small cuts from the  cut line to frame outline all the way around.  

* Cover the frame front with glue & press onto fabric.  Apply glue to inside & outer edges.  Fold extra fabric onto the back. 

* Place paper right side down.  Cover the back of frame base with glue & press onto paper.  Smooth it out with your fingers.  Cut off excess paper, leaving 1/4" all around.  Glue edges base front & fold excess paper onto edge. 

* Repeat with stand.  Let dry.

* Place frame base onto work surface, right-side up.  Place the frame front right-side down.  Apply glue to sides & bottom of the opening.  Be careful not to glue the top, where you'll slip in your photo.  Turn it over onto base & press with finger to attach.

* Turn it all over & glue top tab of stand onto back of frame.

made-up stories make us go

red cowboy boots

There's nothing like seeing them in those first pair of cowboy boots.  Of course, these were his brother's first pair, too.  But red always looks new, doesn't it?  I've already told you that red = love.

One day I'll take these boys to Maui.  We'll play ukes & guitar on the beach, grab a mixed plate, then drive to the top of Haleakala, 10,000 feet up.  Yes.  We'll don boots & cowboy hats, kakui-nut leis & bandanas.  We'll mount our horses & murmur sweet nothings in their ears as they take us along paths overlooking the clouds, the sea & other islands.  Then come back down but keep our cowboy kicks.  Grab some mango ice cream & stroll up & down Lahaina at sunset, looking like locals playing tourists.  The next morning we'll head back up the volcano at 4 am, rent bikes & race down at sunrise.

Heading straight to Kapalua Bay, with it's crescent-shaped cove, we'll jump in with goggles & tickle the sea turtles.  Have kayak races from beach-to-beach.  We'll climb the hill, visit the ancient burial ground & pay gratitudes to the gift-givers ~ maybe doing a little family show to make Pele & Maui laugh.  D will head us straight to our favorite luau, & sit on the floor with strangers.  Under the big sky, next to the ocean, we'll share Lomi Lomi, Lau Lau & Poi.  They'll practice calling things "Da kine," & telling the waiters, "You got choke grinds!" (delicious food)

The band will ask who's been married for over so many years & invite us to have a little dance.  The boys will entertain themselves while we dance barefoot, a flower in my left ear, my sweetheart being so sweet.  Like 9 years ago.   When the boys were stars & somedays themselves.

& so...goodbye to all that

yellow week - friday

I've been looking at these pictures all week & thinking, "I'm not going to post this."

I've now looked at them enough times that it's become a little unconscious mantra, "I'm not going to post this, I'm not going to post this."  

When that happens, I know it means I'm feeling confronted.  

Would it sound crazy to say that I'm sometimes very ashamed of these cars?  That instead of being grateful to say that I know them, well, I generally act like they aren't there?  

My loved ones know I've had quite the mixed soup of emotions on the subject of exotics ~ exotic cars, that is.  D loves them. He loves them so much he created an exotic car share.   He's got a perfect eye for details & color & lines.  

Yes, he is a social entrepreneur (aka "green entrepreneur" aka "environmentalist").  No, these certainly don't help the environment.  But they are recycled, & they are shared, so that those who love them can use them without using the extra resources it would take to produce new cars & have them live in each guy's garage.  Or dip into their family expenses by trying to own & upkeep them.  No one knows as well as he does that men who love them will find a way to have them.  

Ideally they would take that saved money & give it away to some meaningful cause.

The business is called "Toccare," which means, "Take your turn" in Italian.  It's a beautiful business.  Look at that license plate.  

Look at these men.  What are they looking at?  

I've gone back & forth ~ am I ashamed?  Am I so proud of D?  Do I think he's absolutely brilliant? Am I embarrased & unable to justify these things in my life?  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  & Yes.

I have to admit, that was my boat in the back there.  The Mastercraft X45, which allows me to surf behind it, because it makes actual surfing waves.  I picked out the decals & everything.

Which made for an interesting kind of playdate I certainly didn't have growing up, often resource-poor in San Francisco.

The whole thing has given me much probably unneeded anxiety.

D consulted with extraordinarily conscious & mindful economists when crafting his business plans.  When he questioned the morality & worth of this idea, they said 2 things: 

1.) You have to have joy in what you do

2.) For Americans, the car is the symbol of hope & freedom (I know, now we have new one)

We're really beyond low-key in our lives ~ check out the ramshackle garage.  Which happened to house a Lotus & Porsche 911Turbo.

And...those days are over.  It's a different time for all of us.  The company's not gone.  It's thriving in a whole new way.  It's just not our deal anymore.  I don't miss the cars, & D still gets to keep his love for them.  Now we get to focus on family, friends, & our health.  What's left is memories, pictures & really, how proud of him I am.  What a brilliant idea.  Brilliant.

Brilliant.