Oatmeal is a power food.  It is to everyone. But to me, oatmeal is also my 'game day food.'  It is steal cut comfort and confidence.  It reminds me that I win sometimes, and I work hard all the time.  It reminds me that I'm strong.  It reminds me that I'm a morning person.  That I'm a team player.  That I'm a striker.  That size matters less than strength and speed. That I have good coaches in my life - and that I'm good at listening to them.  And above all, it reminds me that I have a few very loving and strong people behind me - like my dad, who I'd hear out in the kitchen banging pots, closing cabinets, running the tap, cooking me oatmeal on game days.  And now my Beau, who set his alarm early to make sure I had a cup of coffee waiting for me in his kitchen when I came in at 6:30am.

That's why this morning, I had oatmeal.

I've developed a bad habit.  I buy food for meals.  And never make them.  Between my busy schedule, and the ones of my Roomie and my Beau, it just doesn't happen as often as I'd like.  I pulled out the meat yesterday morning to let it defrost.  By the time I was heading home, it was almost eight and Meg was out with friends and John about to be the same.  We picked up sandwiches at the deli down the street instead.

Tonight, they both have plans again.  I decided I didn't care.  I was making the stuffed peppers I'd planned for the meat.  I pulled out the ingredients, the wine, and my MacBook.  I turned on the Michael Buble.  And I got the most wonderful feeling.  Why don't I cook for myself more often?  Pour myself more glasses of wine?  Just me.

Well, me and Michael.  Which is what inspired me to write.  For the past 8 years or more I've shared Michael with 3 very special people.  "The Neighborhood." We've spent countless summer hours listening to him - at the beach, on the way to the beach, after the beach, the morning after the beach.  But really - most summer evenings included him at some point. We sang along in the car together as we drove to Rob's grandma's in Camano, or as we sat on my back porch.  He crooned while we baked cookies, and cooked dinners, crowded together in one of our kitchens.  We've seen him twice in concert all together.  The first time right after Jeff and Elise started courting.  The second, soon after Rob & Amie got together.  I can't hear him without thinking of them in some small part of my heart.

I've made incredible friends over the past 10 years of my life.  I spend my days with a number of them. But there is this tiny little growing community known as the "Neighb" that I just can't ever get over.  I love them.  And sometimes, without warning, Michael begins to sing, and I begin to cry.  Not even really because I miss them (and I do), but because I love them.  And I can't believe how incredibly blessed I was and am to have them in my life.  Seriously.  Can't get over it.  Can't get over them.  I don't get to see them every day like I did for so many years.  I don't even see them every month.  But they constantly come to mind, especially when I'm cooking,  when I'm sipping wine, baking cookies, playing Scategories, sitting in the sunshine, or swaying and singing along to Buble.

Leaving for the train in 3.5 hours.  Suffice to say, I'm having a hard time focusing at work today.  Two cups of coffee, a waterbottle and a plum later and one hour and 27 minutes have passed. 

....

My backpack is sitting behind my chair, my purse is tucked away in it, bus pass and wallet in the outside pocket.  I'm ready.  :) 

.....

Last night was full of laundry, cleaning and errands.  By 9pm we were dropping off my mom's vacuum and grabbing a few of my left behind belongings.  And then, we were standing with a flashlight and a giant pole picking plums from the yard.  I have a delicious bag to prove it.  My mom was laughing at us most of the time.  And I think John might have realized I'm crazy finally. But I love plums! I'm kind of greedy about them too. 

Have I already shared this?  If so, just skip to the next paragraph.  The house I was born in in Edmonds had a kid's dreamland backyard.  The perfect reading tree.  A sport court.  A green lawn that I always remember green.  And best yet, cherry trees, a huge apple tree and a number of dwarf plum trees.  The birds got the cherries before we ever had a chance, but the apples and plums were ours for the picking!  I wasn't much about the sour taste of the green apples.  Today, I'd probably love them for pies and glazes.  But plums are like candy!  They are so sweet, without being overwhelming.  And if just right, they have the tiniest tang of tart to surprise you.  When we moved my first grade year, I missed those trees.  Eventually, somewhere around high school, my mom planted me a plum tree at the new house.  I think she planted two actually.  :/  A few years ago, it finally started growing fruit.  And this year, it is dripping with deep red plums!  I keep getting giddy at the sight of it.  I think one more week and all lower fruit (reachable) will all be ready for the picking!

One day I wil have a house.  And it will have a plum tree.

.......

13 more minutes passed...

I can't stop thinking about fall.  Let's be honest.  It's here.  It's sunny and warm, but fall is all over in the air.  Leaves have already begun falling in Seattle.  And a little birdie told me the Pumpkin Spice Latte is available.  It's fall.  And I couldn't be happier.  Been plotting about fall decorations all morning. Been day dreaming about walks and scarves.  I looked in my closet yesterday and thought, "Finally, the season I dress for."  My closet looks like a pile of Autumn leaves - burnt oranges, greens, one or two yellows speckled.  Mostly browns, tans and grays.  And basically all, sweaters.  :)  Let's sit down and chat over a hot drink, take a walk, find every potentially crunchy leaf with our boots, add pumpkin to any and every possible recipe.  Let's let the nights come as quick as they please, and the mornings linger.  We'll share them all - let the night skies grow dark and the inner lights burn warm and long inside our homes.  Let Seattle become an ember.  

Autumn has always been my favorite - it's the climate my heart feels most comfortable.  But this year, I have my own home to decorate.  A very special roomie to relish it with.  And a Beau to share it with.  Fall, if I can figure out how to hug you - I'll throw my arms around you wide!  I've been having fun with Summer and all, but secretly my ears been listening for your feet at the door.  Unlike Summer, you're rarely late, and you never disappoint me.  You're here.  And I'm going to decorate the house and throw you a party!  I think tonight I'll toast to you.  You're more than a guest - you're family.  You're in all my favorite memories.  And I think this year we'll make a few favorite more.

I feel like everything has taken on a sort of enchantment.  I set out my blankets and snacks and lantern and couldn't quite believe it was real.  I've tried every year to have a wonderful viewing party for the Perseids.  It usually ends with me sitting alone someplace, staring at a half-cloudy sky.  Somehow, this year it happened.  So easily and comfortably too.  All the sudden it was dusk, the car was packed, and we were driving through the mountains - heading East for a few hours just to see the stars from a better angle in our tiny world.  We were like the Little Prince, moving our chairs to watch the sun set once more and the stars come out in a quieter land.  It was real life.  I was laying under stars, listening to a story, counting fires in the skies.  Sipping whiskey with my heart's friend.

And meanwhile, I knew others were doing similarly.  They were in big houses by the beach, laughing and eating and enjoying a hot summer eve.  They were telling stories and making stories.  And when I'd read them later, I'd read them all with that same odd feeling of enchantment.  Summer has a way of doing that.  Especially the last days of summer, when you begin to realize that it's all about to disappear.  And here in Seattle the magic is all the stronger.   It's a friend who's only just arrived, and already you are dreading the day they pack it all away and drive across the East. 

How summer does this to me each year, I don't know.  Just as I've committed to giving up, it silently lays itself out all around me and leaves me a in a quiet mood of contentment.  It makes me fall in love with my life, with my city, with my dreams.  It makes me fall in love with itself.  Summer, you are a terrifying Enchantress.  And I dread the day you'll wave your hand and disappear again.  But in the meantime, I love you, because you make me feel every minute. 

Random memory: For a large portion of my childhood, I thought raccoons were pandas.  There used to be a lot of raccoons in the field behind the Sandstroms house.  And whenever anyone would see one through the window and try to point it out, I'd always get so frustrated why I couldn't see it.  I was looking for a panda.  Eventually I got it straight.  I think it had something to do with the little sets of animal families I played with as a kid.  There was a raccoon family and they were black and white, and the exact same size as the bear family.  :/  It made for a bit of a confusing childhood. 

Man I loved those little critter families. :)



Did any of you play with these as kids? Of all my friends, I don't think any of them had these actually.  I was in LOVE with them.  Especially the little babies in each family.  I still remember opening new ones at each pass on the way to "Antana" for Christmas when I was three or four.  I had the fox family, the bear family, the rabbit family and the raccoon family.  I loved them.  I had barbies, but these guys got way more play time.  Who wants to play with a tall thin blonde when you can play with a raccoon!?  I'm thinking I might pick up the foxes and elephants for my kids one day. :)
 
 



6 Years

I missed the big grand day (May 23rd), but Hope is an Anchor is 6 years old.  I have officially been rambling on this site for a very long time.  I've recorded my thoughts, experiences, adventures and to the best of my ability, the people who have shaped the major part of my adult life thus far.  Tied here is my MC tour, graduation, first quarter at University, countless hours of studying, writing, researching, and (thankfully) unnumbered coffees.  I processed through all four years of my undergrad here, wrestled through what would come next, applied for the Rhodes and Gates scholarships, felt the excitement of nomination and the serious pain of denial.  I've written about heartaches in codes that perhaps only I and a few other scholars know how to transcribe.  I've recorded favorite quotes and poems.  Odd pieces of conversation.  I've done my best to copy down favorite strangers I've seen on streets and bus seats.  You might find shadows of the five jobs and 7 managers I've had while living in this literary apartment.  There was graduation.  My first time ever getting "let go."  Saying goodbye to my favorite tree, to my quad, to my campus and friends.  There were lots of trips to California, Montana, Vegas and Nashville.  A whole lot of dreaming.  And somewhere a track of how I've been becoming who I am.  I love this place.  I love that it's mine.  I love that I get to share it with you and host you all in some little way every day.  And yet, I think it might be time for something new. 

The concert photos below made me think of 10 Things I Hate About You, for some reason.  That was one of my favorite movies in high school.  In college, I wrote a final essay for my Senior Capstone Shakespeare class on the film as an adapatation of The Taming of the Shrew.  Turns out, it's brilliant.  After reading the play several times over, and watching every film adaptation I could find of it over the years, I discovered just how clever the writers of the film were being - the way they'd changed and graphed characters and plot, and why in relation to our culture.  I found clever hidden games they were playing, knowing 98% of their audience never would notice or care. 

All that said, it has me thinking of some of my favorite films over the years. 

Milo & Otis
Turner & Hooch
All Dogs Go To Heaven
The Little Princess
The Great Mouse Detective
The Secret Garden
E.T.
Beauty & The Beast
Aladdin
10 Things I Hate About You
Save The Last Dance
The Notebook
Garden State
Moulin Rouge

.... blanking on most.  What were yours...? The ones you'd watch over and over as a kid, or in highschool. I've made a point to buy most of mine over the past few years.

Shows I didn't love? The ones that when I'd walk into Elise's house and see her cuddled up on the couch with a bag of popcorn watching, I'd dart back out into the sunshine?  Anne of Green Gables and Polyanna.

PS - I'm pretty sure "Itchy" is the reason I still like stinky dogs - like I assume the worse they smell, the sweeter they must really be-  and "Charlie" is why I like trouble makers.  Dangit. 

Also, the most common thing I think I hear when falling in and out of dreams "You can never come back..."  and the line I've sung most times in my head out of nowhere, "Let's make music together.  Let's make sweet harmony." 

Childrens movies.  They can ruin you from the age of three.  Put you on the trajectory to "WEIRD". Watch out.

Favorite Old photo. We took this at Jeff & Elise's first apartment, a month or so after they were married. Love these two men deeply, so grateful for them, and so incredibly grateful for their other halves they've found since. ;)

So, I should be completely ashamed of this.  But I'm kind of not.  THIS is why my sweet Toni and I will be friends forEVER.  We get each other.   And when a late Friday night rolls around, we know how to entertain ourselves...   Aw Toni - I love you dearly, and I love every single one of our memories.  What an amazing friend you have been to me over the years.  You are tender and strong in a way I've seen in so few people in my life.  You're resilient in storms and heartaches.  You've tasted more pain than most people our age - broken dreams and deep hurts, and you've walked away a beautiful person inside and out, kinder, sweeter, and even more caring.  That is a remarkable feat.  Come over soon and let me read my silly stories to you until you fall asleep.... or roll over on your good ear. ;)  Love you!   <3 Shane

You can't keep a good dog down.

Since saying goodbye to my dog, I've been wanting to watch All Dogs Go to Heaven (yes, I own it).  But I'm not really sure that's a healthy response - and I'm really not sure I want anyone to walk in on me watching that with a box of Kleenex and a bag of Dove dark chocolates.  Me at twenty-five.  It's a fearsome sight ain't it? ;)

Today, my bottom-line thought in response to everything seems to be, "Well, You can't keep a good dog down."  Huh?  Dear God, please don't let that slip out of my mouth at my new job!  But, somehow, I get it.  This girl has seen All Dogs Go to Heaven, Milo & Otis and Turner & Hooch more times than you could count with a bag of skittles.  I guess all that had to be lodged someplace deep in my subconscious.  Apparently Charlie and Itchy are my go-to guys of optimism, courage, stubbornness and a bit of kindness.

What am I talking about?  I don't really know.  I'm bored out of my mind at work. 

I guess my only advice here is this: watch what you show your kids, it may become the basis of their value system. ;) 

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” 

-CS Lewis

I've already cried plenty today.  And then cried again, angry, knowing that some would probably have already laughed over it all.  And then cried again, again.  This little guy is exactly who I'd normally hold when tears this big filled my heart.  I'd hide in the garage and hold him when I wanted to escape everything else.   And suddenly today, I felt like that little girl again, wanting to run to the garage and sit on it's cold floor, and squeeze my little puppy. 

My mom says she feels so silly, crying over a dog.  And it's true, until you think all that he's sat through with you.  And suddenly your crying for every moment he was the only one who shared with you, or all the ones he shared with your whole family.  And suddenly, it doesn't feel so silly.  And all those who weren't there, who might find it odd, you don't really care.  Because as you said, they weren't there.  

They weren't there.  

I've posted it a couple times already, but every time I scan through my photo library, I stop at this one and smile for a while. I think of what has been, and is and might be. I think of this little girl's mommy, and her mom and my mom, and me, and who might one day call me "mommy" and this tiny little face "friend." I've been resisting the urge all morning to write about my friends.

Why, I'm not sure. Perhaps because I know I've written most of it before, perhaps because I'm afraid to make what's most special to me seem old to you. But it is old. It's as old as anything in my life, in my heart. And that's the best part. It still invades my thoughts and overcomes me. I love these people. I love this little girl. I love her mom. And as I'm surveying the past and posturing for the future, I just keep thinking how grateful I am for the friends and family that walk beside me. And for the new stories this little girl will one day tell, and the stories that have yet to be and become her parents "old tales". I can't wait to tell her stories about her mom and me and E.T.

I've been going through all my old photos on my laptop this past week, and it's got me thinking a lot about all the years of friendship with this class of amazing ladies. The short-lived CCA Lady Warriors Basketball team survived just long enough to connect our class of Seniors with the then 7th grade girls. They were some of the most fun, confident, sweet young ladies I've ever known... and they've grown into some of the most amazing, beautiful women. I love watching each of them discover who they are called to be as women, and I love benefitting from a long friendship with them.  I love these women.

 (I wish there were more pics of Morgan P in here... sorry girl. And I'm also sorry for where it becomes a bit of a MacKenna & Katrina photo-a-thon, we tend to enjoy taking pictures together, and being together.) Here's to lots of memories!! (And to 'awkward phases' for all of us! You girls are either going to love me, or hate me for this lol.)

Double meaning to "return"?

(this last one especially made me laugh, for so  many reasons- very clever Mom.)