When You Wish Upon a Star. . .

Since the minute she could walk, at ten months, Signe has been a dancer.  She sings and dances her way through life.  As a toddler she sat through Hannah's dance recitals in awe of the production and the music and the dancing.  At three years of age I signed her up for her very own ballet class.

All the way there, decked out in a foofy tutu, she kept asking, "Now, where are we going?"

To which I would reply, "Dance class."

She would get a funny look on her face and say, "Whose dance class?"

Silly question since she and I were the only ones in the car and I certainly wasn't wearing a tutu!

"YOUR dance class!" I would assure her.

And every time she would get an awe filled, completely pleased look on her face at the prospect.

A month and a half after her ballet class started we moved.  It was very sad.

TWO years after moving, I finally signed her up for another dance class, much to her delight.

Her recital is in two weeks.  Her class is dancing to "When You Wish Upon a Star".

She can't wait.

Last week she got to bring her costume home, and today she got to put it on and get all done up for pictures.

She was in heaven.

As she twirled in her foofy skirt she assured me, "After my recital you are going to be seeing a lot of this dress."

I don't doubt it.

Idyllic Idaho

There is something about going home that always makes you revert a little to the state of your childhood.  For me that means country living and simple pleasures.

The country is full of things that capture the emotions of a way of life I dream of for my girls.

And they make great pictures too.

My sister's barn makes me want to go hunting barn cats and sit in a hay loft on a sunny day watching a mother and her kittens. . .

and the older the barn the more homey it feels.

The countryside spread out behind it makes life seem simpler. . . even though I know farming is a lot a work, it is an honest lifestyle that connects you to the earth in a way that I love.

It brings you outside and invites you to smell the lilacs,

or pick a daisy.

Where a walk in the countryside, or a hard day's work, is done with a loyal and constant companion.

It's the kind of place where children's laughter fills the yard,

where my niece can be heard whispering, "I love you so bad!"  in a kitten's ear. . .

as she cuddles it up next to her face,

and laughs with pure joy when it purs for her.

Where wishes can be made on dandelion fluff. . .

and sisters love each other every day.

I love going home.

Killing Time in a Laundromat

While waiting for my new washer and dryer to arrive, I finally broke down and took a couple loads to the laundromat.

It was a first for me.

So of course I had to document the whole experience!

(Can you see me in the reflection?!)

And really, it all looks so much prettier through a lens anyway.

Avocado green suddenly seems like a wise and bold choice. . .

And bright orange chairs appear mid century modern.

And of course the touch of stainless makes the whole place seem sleek and industrial.

And while not much can be said about the rows of clunky washing machines,

they do have a certain symmetry.

And they sport a cool name.

All those carts make me want to race someone around the rows of machines,

like an impromptu game of bumper cars.

plus, all those coin slots make you feel like you might win something. . .

even if in the end,

all you get is clean laundry.

And really, I'm okay with that.

Because after a week of no clean laundry, clean laundry holds a lot more appeal than one might expect.

The speedy turn around was also quite nice. Clearly the machines were living up to their name.

And since the kids stayed to play with a neighbor, someone was counting it as a date!

White Lilacs

I have decided my favorite color is white.  This isn't actually news, but I continually find pleasure in the clean crispness of white.

So it stands to reason that I love white flowers.

While at my parent's this week I picked buckets of white lilacs.

They were going into the simple summer fresh bouquets on the tables at my brother's wedding.

But I find them fresh and beautiful alone in the buckets.

Masses of white always make me smile.

They seem to make even ordinary back doors look lovely.