Thankful Thursday | I just want to build a fire with you, and I promise I'll never grow tired of you

I Am Grateful:

• for my co-worker Erica's homemade Christmas cookies (especially the apricot thumbprints).
• for heavy, smooth-writing pens.
• for Why Oh Why.
• for that house on High House Road, ALL lit up, and that we found it while driving a round about way home to avoid traffic.
• that my hands are always cool and Wolfman's are always warm and that makes us a perfect match.
• when Mads asks me to snuggle his toy dragon before bed.
• for Ms. Carolyn D., my customer one day, who reminds me to be thankful, always, and hugs me before she leaves the store.
• for minty toothpaste that burns my tongue.
• for our recliner that Grandma falls asleep in after Christmas lunch, in a full recline, while Return of the King plays.
• for Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn.
• to climb into a warm bed at night next to my already sleeping husband.
• for my son's energy, even when it feels like too much.
• for Christmas movies that admit to how not great Christmas can be, how not great families can be, and how not great people can be.
• for headlights in the fog.
• for our lady betas, named by Mads: Blue and Red--for their beauty, for their differing personalities, that their care is the first step in teaching my son responsibility and stewardship.
• for coconut oil.

"Christmas Sweaters," The Classic Brown

Yule | I want an alien for Christmas this year

This past yuletide has been, by far, my favorite in recent memory. I wrote in a letter to my friend Kath that unlike last year, this Christmas Eve did not find me sitting on the hearth crying into my hands over my various inadequacies. Instead, Wolfman and I started a new Christmas Eve tradition of watching Krampus while wrapping the last of the gifts and getting the house ready for Santa's visit. Our holiday was not the most perfect, certainly not the most picturesque (actually, I have no photos of Solstice or Christmas at all), and just like everybody else's December, ours went by too fast. But, our boy was so excited, so delighted all month long, that it was easy to relax and delight right along with him. Somehow, completely uncharacteristically, I was able to shut my brain off and just be, just live. On Christmas night, after all the presents were opened and all the food was tasted, after our boy was snug in bed at my grandmother's house, I sat on our front porch with Wolfman in the dark. We smoked cigarettes and looked out at our neighbor's crazy strings of lights draping down from the trees across the street, like some alien vines. This, I told him, was what I want more of in 2017--not the cigarettes, necessarily, but moments of pause. Yuletide is a lot of fucking fun if you just stop thinking about it so much. 

"I Want An Alien for Christmas," Fountains of Wayne

July Joys & Favorites | just leave me to do my dark bidding on the internet

| Joys |

Independence Day! We celebrated the 4th at Grandma's house with grilled brats and corn-on-the-cob and backyard fireworks. Grandma's neighbor gave the kids these balloons, and I am so grateful for this neighborly gesture. More even than the fireworks, this was the part of the afternoon Mads and Ella loved most--running through and bouncing off of a bouquet of balloons.

Fuquay-Varina Splash Park! I think perhaps we adults enjoy this place more than the kids. They're still small enough that getting a spray of water to the face is not always an entirely pleasant surprise. But, it's not far from our house, the kids get to expel some of that destructive 3-year-old energy, and it's a great way to cool off in this heat. My only complaint is that of a vampire: I wish it were shaded.

Batmobile! Martigan's Grandmommy and Grandpa Tommy spoiled him royally with his own batmobile (it's black, so it is a batmobile). He drove it furiously for two days before the battery stopped holding a charge, but what a glorious two days (we'll buy a new battery soon; honestly, I'm enjoying the break from the car).

Oak Island! We're not beach people; we're not good at beaching. We always get it wrong, never give ourselves enough time. But, once we get close enough to an ocean, my compulsion toward it becomes an unassailable, tangible thing, a tether that tugs. We're not beach people, but every time we stand in the sand staring at the ocean, we discuss the possibility of moving to an island and becoming fisherpeople. Or merpeople.

Interviews! I truly do loathe job searching. It is among my least favorite experiences, right up there with depression and giving birth, which perhaps is why in the past I've often stayed stuck in a job that didn't suit me or my talents for far too long (years). Unemployment would be a breeze were it not for the fact that I have to spend so many hours a day searching for a new job. But, I must admit, I've been really lucky in my interviews thus far--businesses for which I can see myself working and excelling, businesses for which I feel optimistic and enthusiastic. And, even were they not businesses that seemed to fit me, how lucky I feel just to be granted opportunities to interview.

| Favorites | 

| Recipe | Not Ice Cream! Mads and I have indulged in this recipe nearly every afternoon, sitting on the back deck or front porch (whichever is shadiest at whichever hour). So simple: one frozen banana, half an avocado, a handful of frozen berries, and enough yogurt or coconut water to get it all blended. A thousand imaginable variations. (A food processor works better than a blender, unless you're working with peanut butter--peanut butter is impossible in a food processor.)

| Kid Craft/Play | Moon Sand! I've mentioned this already in my last Project 365 update, but it's just not a North Carolina summer if you don't hear me complaining about it: it is too hot to be outside. I am not just being a hyperbolic whiner; various heat advisories in our local papers and radio station bulletins back me up on this. And any parent, grandparent, child carer can tell you that keeping 3-year-olds cooped up indoors for too long is a dangerous play, particularly when they are together (think Lord of the Flies, but with all your collectibles in the cross fire). This recipe is relatively simple to throw together and cheap (just 4 cups of flour and 1/2 cup of baby oil--recipe found here). It's messy, but I'm a mom; I'm impervious to mess.

| Product | Boogie Wipes! Mads and I were briefly sick this month. Again. I don't know how anybody survived a persistently runny nose before Boogie Wipes. They are so worth the however much they cost--it doesn't even matter, I won't blow my nose on anything else.

| Movie | What We Do In The Shadows! After my fifth time watching this in a row, I think it became pretty official that this is one of my all-time favorite movies. Like, I would get a tattoo of Jemaine Clement as Vlad the vampire as a cat.
| Show | Stranger Things! Typically, Wolfman and I are at least two years behind everyone else in our television consumption. It's a nice place to be--we already know what happens on any given show, we know what critics thought of it, what audiences thought of it, and we've decided we don't give a shit about any of that and don't mind wasting (or not wasting) our time on it. Stranger Things, however, is very new. The only thing I knew about the show came from a tweet which described it as "Twin Peaks meets Goonies." Having seen it, I don't think that's an accurate description, but only because it's something better and more interesting than a rehash of other things. (I will say, though, that it has a just a touch of John Carpenter Halloween to it.) However, part of what makes it so lovely is that Stranger Things definitely gives you all the feelings you feel while watching ET or Goonies or Stand By Me or any other beloved 80's movie featuring a group of boys coming-of-age. It feels wholesome. Scary, weird, wholesome: some of my very favorite adjectives. And, god, how beautiful are David Harbour and Winona Ryder. I've always liked Winona Ryder (I'll get a tattoo of Lydia Deetz right next to my Vlad-as-cat), but she is a complete revelation to me in this show. Her crazy eyes, the way she stabs the air with her cigarette and walks with a hunch, I just completely, utterly love her performance. And now, because Wolfman and I are riding the zeitgeist this time, we have to wait for season two. In classic first-in-a-franchise horror movie style, season one did not quite wrap up, and I could not be happier. | Links & Etc. | On Instagram, I've been particularly taken with @nurturingnova--her account is so chill and joyful and beautifully cultivated. | I've been following Julia Dreads on Youtube for a while, but this month she's increased her output, and her daily vlog videos are the prettiest dailies I've seen. | Recently discovered Drew Monson on Youtube, and though it took me a few videos before I'd made up my mind, I do think he's very funny. But, it's his videos discussing his struggles with depression that I find most impressive, perhaps because they're vulnerable, but more because they're real, and I don't often hear people discuss depression in a way that feels real. | "Literally, right now my body is heavy. It just had a child. My tits are bigger. My stomach is, you know, still soft and giant. And there's this part of me that's going, 'you're going to look kind of ugly,' and then there's that wiser voice that goes, like, 'no you're not. You just had a child. You're going to look real. You're going to look like the thing that you are.'" Love this Amanda Palmer's Style Like U strip interview. | Loved the TED Radio Hour episode "Animals & Us" and recommend it if you have animal companions. | I want this to be a real thing: Mom Tiger Will Finally Lose Her Shit on New Episode of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood

@JoannaDeVoe Amanda Palmer is my patron saint of Fuck This I'm Doing It My Way If You Dont Like It Boo-Fucking-Hoo. #saintofnoapologies

— thewolfpeople (@thewolfpeople) July 12, 2016

365 | I wanna live where the sun comes out

Monday 20 June 2016, Summer Solstice | Grandma tells me that out at a garden center of one of the area hardware stores, in front of a display of heavy duty insecticides that boast "kills over 500 species of bugs," she begins complaining, loudly, "What are the birds supposed to eat? What are the turtles supposed to eat?" Spent much of the solstice sitting in Grandma's back yard with Sierra and the kids while Grandma dug in her little garden. Sioux Bea, her leggy, tawny mutt, found a turtle under the fig tree and excitedly bounded up and down, barking, and nipping at its shell. It hid for as long as we watched it, until we weren't watching it anymore and then, undoubtedly, disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Stumbling upon turtles (and usually it is the dogs who do the stumbling--and barking, and nipping) is among my favorite mundane bits of summer magick.

Tuesday 21 June 2016 | I miss putting my baby to bed on days when I close the shop, but I do savor these morning hours spent with my menfolk. Wolfman cut the front lawn with the push mower this morning, and I sat on the front step with a cup of coffee and watched him, ready with the glass of ice water for him. I watched Mads trail behind his dad with his toy mower and was very much in love.

Wednesday 22 June 2016 | Mads and I woke in the morning and went outside to check on our vegetables. I tried to set up the sprinkler, which resulted in my boy and me, running and shrieking through the yard in our pajamas, soaked. Not the right kind of sprinkler for the job. Mads loves watering the plants--he tells me zombies are hiding in the stalks and he has to spray them. He loves watering the garden so much, that when it's time to turn off the water, a fit always results.

Thursday 23 June 2016 | When I'm particularly impatient and exasperated with my kid, I find that if I just stop what I'm doing and listen to him, his requests are actually very simple and pretty delightful. Take today, for instance, when all he wanted was for me to help him cover his arms in stickers, like tattoo sleeves.

Friday 24 June 2016 | My baby will be three in just a little over a month. He won't be so much "my baby" anymore as "my kid". We've let him be wild so far. If he wants to be shirtless, we help him peel off his shirt. If he wants to clown at the dinner table, we laugh at his antics. If he wants to scream and howl, we scream and howl with him; we chase him around the house on hands and knees; Wolfman wrestles with him and tosses him onto the sofa. But soon, we'll have to socialize him, potty train him, civilize him, learn him some manners, get him to sit through one whole library story-time without bolting out the door. In the mean time, we're doing a lot of Bubba-ing. It's summer time, after all.

Sunday 26 June 2016 | Mads plays the trumpet. Long before getting pregnant, I pictured myself with as future mom to a little boy, a little boy with long hair sitting in a tree, a nature boy.

Monday 27 June 2016 | I don't get a lot of time to myself these days--just my lunch breaks, really, which are spent surrounded by strangers and their echoing voices at the mall. I sat by the carousel today and read Faerie Magazine, drank canned coconut water. Listened to the music filtering vaguely--from where?--and thought that even though Coldplay has become The Soundtrack to Your Mall Experience, Parachutes was a really important part of my musical upbringing, one of the first albums I fell really hard in love with. I probably bought that CD here, at this mall, at the Sam Goody that used to be across from where this carousel sits now.

Tuesday 28 June 2016 | Has North Carolina been declared an official Rain Forest yet?

Wednesday 29 June 2016 | Wolfman found this little guy while he was weed-whacking around the garden. I carried him to the pond behind our yard with Mads to let him go. I wouldn't have known this was a snapping turtle, had my husband not told me, pointing out the ridge on his shell. I hope this little guy makes it, lives to be huge and scaled and fierce. The back pond his haunted by these shelled dinosaurs, and I respect their right to be there by not dangling my toes or fingers in the water.

Thursday 30 June 2016 | My friend Kath knit this little tiger for my baby and sent it to us around his first birthday. Wolfman and I are the ones who began calling him Hobbes, and perhaps because we named him, making him special of all Martigan's toys, Mads took a liking to him. Mads does not get particularly attached to toys, not for periods longer than a day or two, but he still asks for Hobbes by name every once in a while, as I tuck him into bed. Today, when Mads and Ella stole a bottle of sunscreen from the hall bathroom, they rubbed all over themselves, a couple library books, and Hobbes. He got his first bath today, and though I worried about a loose stitch in one of his legs, he survived.

Saturday 2 July 2016 | Old man. He is never loved and adored enough. If he wrote a memoir, that's the story he would tell.

"We Never Change," Coldplay

Thankful Thursday | he never met a man he didn't like

Our brood of cats is down to just the one--Thorn Rex, the Big Black Bastard, Back Yard Panter, Highlander of Cats--and Thorn, in some ways, is very much a dog. I forget how much I enjoy being in the presence of cats. The house in Burlington is populated by a proper glaring, a couple of which allowed for pets and ear scratches. I suffered later in the night with itchy eyes; my cat allergy developed within the past couple years, and being a regular nuzzler of cats, this is an unhappy development (for me, maybe not for the cats). Itchy eyes be damned, I am so grateful to exist in a world with cats, (their world), and I am so grateful cats do not have wings. Because, as Wolfman and I posited one morning over breakfast, wouldn't that be a terrifying world to live in--one in which cats had wings? (We'd have to carry  armored umbrellas on any outdoor trek.)

I Am Grateful:

• to Grandma when she packs my lunch one day and adds an entire sleeve of ginger cookies.
• that I can wear, essentially, whatever I feel moved to wear to work, and the freedom that has given me to explore and experiment with my personal style.
• for cinnamon raisin toast with apple butter, the taste of autumn even as summer only just begins.
• that it was Jared's childhood home to which we brought our baby when he was first born, and that in that laying-in period with newborn Martigan, the view out our window was the same with which Jared had grown up.
• for plum wine with dinner when I'm feeling blue.
• for Jo Beth's cooking (particularly those little mashed potato cup cakes).
• for Martigan's tiny voice on the phone telling me, "I miss you."
• for Ella's animated, exaggerated happiness, the way she wiggles her entire body and claps her hands to her face when she sees us pull into the drive way.
• for the memory of how giddy the sight of Jared's Xterra, now our family car, once made me when it pulled into that same driveway.
• that my son has three grandfathers, each one different, each one special, each one kind and loving, to watch and guide him as he grows into a man.
• for two uninterrupted mornings in a row, without the baby, to write and drink my coffee at a leisurely pace, and be quiet.

Photos from Father's Day afternoon, spent with Wolfman's dad in Burlington.

"Ballad of Will Rogers," Chris Ledoux

#ThankfulThursday | I hate the world today

Tuesday was a not-good one. The day's events weren't particularly traumatizing, I was just experiencing run-of-the-mill, living-induced upheaval, worry, and loss. I did a lot of driving on Tuesday, that noon without any passengers, having dropped the boy with Grandma and making my way back home to drop something off for Wolfman. I'm keen on driving alone--day, night, rain, shine, with or without musical accompaniment. On Tuesday, it was with, specifically, with a local radio station that does an hour long, commercial-free block of 90s music every day at noon. As soon as I revved up Brunhilde for our journey, the radio played "Rump Shaker," and the crowd-pleasers kept coming--some Lemonheads, some Rembrandts. And then, Meredith Brooks' "Bitch" came on the air, and I sang along to every word.  I had no idea I even knew every word, and I giggled heartily after the first chorus. I was downright giddy; I felt free and green and, yes, empowered. Sure, even that. In those three minutes, I was so grateful to be exactly where I was--in my husband's old beast of a vehicle, with the air-conditioning blasting, and that stupid radio station playing that maudlin song, alone, on an otherwise bad day.

I am grateful for:

• a farm-stand bought cantaloupe and the way it stinks up the car
• Martigan asking me in a complete(ish) sentence (which have been few so far) one morning while we wait on the Apex Historical Society caboose for the morning's CSX train, "Want lap... when train comes" (translation: "Mommy, when the train comes by can I please sit in your lap, because this is special to me, and I love you so much.")
• herby goodness at the breakfast table--Wolfman's homemade tabouli and mint leaves in my water glass
• the Food Lion employee who offers Mads a cookie with pink frosting and then gives one to me, too.
• Mads asking, "You alright, Papa?" when Wolfman's face is covered with soapy suds while he washes up.
• Mandi Line, costume designer of Pretty Little Liars (so much pretty!)
• that moment when Martigan's body finally goes limp with sleep after throwing the most intense before-nap tantrum
• the cold can of Dr. Pepper Wolfman buys me from a vending machine as we're leaving Wal-Mart, the discount armpit of the Universe, so American, even though I can only drink a few sips of it.
• the waitress at Gypsy's who tells us of Mads, "he's a good talker; I've had kids, and I know--he's a good talker for his age."
• Grandma's memories of me as a child, when she tells me my son's bare legs look just like mine did when I was his age.
• being witness to the proud, happy, utterly full-of-love look on Jared's aunt Jo Beth's face as she watches her daughter, Becca, walk down the aisle to be married.

Lughnasadh, 2015

"Bitch," The Baseballs (cover)

O, Tannenbaum pt. 2

We begin our five day Yule celebration opening tree ornaments on the Solstice.

I had to take the tree down early this year.  Typically, I'm a tree-up-til-New-Year's-Day kinda gal.  Take it down before that, and I miss its glow at night too badly.  But, for whatever reason, this year's tree was particularly sad about the whole being cut down thing, I guess.  No matter how much water I offered it, it never seemed to take even the smallest sip.  Its dryness I could ignore through Christmas, but its rapidly fading color the days following I could not.  As Wolfman says, it'll make a terrific New Year's bonfire.

Before lighting it up, I did manage to snap photos of this year's new ornaments.

Early in the month, Wolfman brought these two simple, plush ornaments home from his cafe: a goat for Martigan and unicorn for Ella.

Martigan's favorite toy for the past few months has been a yellow Tonka truck my friend Rachel brought him when she visited for lunch in the summer.  Mads likes to pluck this off the tree and push it across the carpet, even though its wheels don't spin.

My ornament this year had to be Wonder Woman, because that's what being a mom feels like to me.  Her little ankles are dented by Martigan's teeth.

Frankenstein's Monster arrived on our tree by accident this year.  We'd scoped out Hallmark's ornament display early--being that Hallmark caters so well to nerds at the holiday season, Wolfman's ornament is often a Hallmark Keepsake.  He was particularly excited about the Godzilla ornament, but, alas, I waited too long to pick it up.  Sold out.  A helpful shopgirl even called other nearby Hallmarks to check its availability, to no avail.  I was bummed.  But, Boris Karloff will always do in a pinch, and now I'm considering making the Universal Monsters a collection for our tree.  Our yule can always use another infusion of Halloween.

Wolfman's mother, Sandra, brought us two ornaments this year, both Merck Family's Old World Christmas.  She gave Mads a Baby's First Christmas ornament last year (he received three altogether last year), but wanted to give him one in this collection as well--a little glass snowman wearing a glittery blue toboggan.

This second Old World Christmas ornament from Sandra has already become a perennial favorite of mine and will get a prominent spot on the tree every year.  I was smitten with it as soon as I laid eyes on it, but the little accompanying description really sealed the deal for me: "The moon casts eerie light on the darkest of nights, but especially on Halloween, so when the sounds of a lonesome owl hooting and screeching break the silence, it can be both beautiful and frightening! Once thought to be the companions of witches and wizards, owls are symbols of the mysterious and are often associated with Halloween."  I am completely touched by this nod to our wedding anniversary. 

O, Tannenbaum pt. 1