Random bits and pieces of a happy life

Since I "founded" this blog this past summer, when we relocated to our little mountain home, nestled on the cusps of the Sierras and Cascades, I have had swirling ideas of what I would say in my inaugural post. These potential posts were mostly composed while driving the 30 miles to the girls' new school or back, never while I was in front of a screen or sheet of paper with the time to write them out. But one thing I have come to know about trying to BE a writer at the same time you ARE a full-time, stay-at-home mother: if you wait for the intersection of great inspiration and free time, you'll never write anything. So my visions of grandeur are dancing off with the sugar plum faeries of the holiday now past and I resolve (wow, I made it all the way to January 5 before uttering that word!) to just write it down, the little things. The little things pile up and make the big things anyway!

So following are some random pieces of our little life.

 Every night the beer comes in; every morning the beer goes out. The simple rhythm of this routine pleases me. The overnight temperatures are too cold for the little kegs to stay out but natural chilling during the day and making space in the laundry room/pantry work for us. [I guess I should insert here that Mr. Bubble is a brewer. He is working out recipes and hopes to someday open a nano-brewery. In the meantime, the tasting is fun!] Here is the beer out. You'll have to wait for nightfall to see the beer in.

I am engaged in an unending battle with pet hair, two dogs (one of whom is a "fluff") and a cat, in a small space. Hair hair hair. Especially on the microfiber couch and the wool armchair and ottoman. I have tried all sorts of lint brushes -- those velvety red ones, a thick rubber bristled black one, the ones with sticky rolls of tape (wasteful much????). I have tried my handheld Dyson. But my efforts have had the success of Operation Market Garden in WWII. But I have discovered that a rag -- old, not fuzzy terry cloth seems best (I'm using a baby wash cloth from years gone by) -- dampened with warm water works like a charm. How did I get to 46 before I realized this simple truth? Well, I never had the fluff before.... Ah, the hair free (or close to it) furniture!

More random images of moments worth collecting:

Sunset with icicles.

Full moon over fields.

Lamb chop ohm.

Walking it back up, to ride down again.

 

And not all moments are captured in images; there are words for collecting too.

 For example, the oft-uttered, "Poodle, let's play!"

or my favorite of late:

"I'm having trouble sleeping at night; Saturn is SO bright this week!"







I always try to hold onto the little moments, because nothing lasts: