Aging together like fine wine.

After almost a decade of life with these people....

they still can make me laugh until I cry.

Flowers that dance.

When I was a little girl, I spent a lot of time with my Italian grandmother(my mom's mom). I called her Non. She was loud, opinionated, loving, dramatic and a FABULOUS storyteller. Her stories were vivid and clear and always excitingly captivating. She had countless tales of life as a little girl in the 1910s/1920s. I absolutely loved her stories and requested them constantly. The stories I requested the most often were stories about what and how she played as a child since as her family was quite poor and toys were an unnecessary frivolity. In fact, she and her siblings had almost no toys at all, save a few that had been hand made by friends and family. My sister and I having almost every toy that was ever advertised during the commercial breaks between our beloved Saturday morning cartoons, found the concept of life with no toys unfathomable and were wildly curious as to how surviving such a situation would even be possible.

While she and her brothers had come up with many ingenious toys in her youth, my absolute favorite makeshift toy from all of her stories were the clever yet simple twirling ballerinas she made from freshly picked fuchsia blooms. Non explained how the beautiful little hanging flowers clearly looked just like a perfectly lovely young woman in beautifully colorful tutu and by plucking two of the 4 outer leaves off you could create arms for the magical dancer. Then with a twist of the stem you have yourself a fully interactive dancing ballerina. Since fuchsias grow beautifully in the San Francisco area where she grew up and are a very common flower in personal gardens and parks it was never hard to find some. Because of this generous plant, Non was able to have a pocket sized dancing dolls at any given time.

Truly inspired and captivated by this dancing flowers(and my grandmothers clever ingenuity), I spent many a day of my childhood harvesting fuchsia blooms from our family's fuchsia bush while imagining them as troops of delicate and whimsical dancers from far away kingdoms.

To this day I still can not look at a fuchsia without imagining a ballerina. And the flower will always remind me of my grandmother and her fantastic stories.

To add to my great fondness of the flower, Roger and I were even married in a Fuchsia garden.

Bugs.

About 14 years ago,

I went on a "first date" with a much younger but equally awesome and charming version of the man I now call my husband (some day I will write the whole story of how we met and the details of our first date.... it really is a fabulous story) and at the very end of the date he invited me in to his San Francisco flat to see his place and meet his house-mates.

As I walked into to Roger's room, I noticed the dramatic decor(which was a stark contrast to the his quiet and reserved demeanor) including an antique chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling, deer antlers on plaques above his doorway, black curtains over his bed and all sorts of assorted gothic treasures throughout.

I also noticed brightly colored blurs scattered across the walls.

(I should note that at the time, my eyesight was as bad and it is now but I refused to wear glasses for reasons of extreme vanity and painful ignorance to just how bad my vision really was).

At first I thought these blurs of color were dried flowers.

Upon closer inspection,

I discovered there were BUGS.

Dead and dried bugs.

Beautifully preserved, positioned and mounted on pins scattered throughout the walls of his room.

I was shocked.

I was equally intrigued.

My initial reaction was of girly squealing and an empty threat of fleeing the building.

Roger was undeterred by my squeamishness and quickly took to the task of educating me on his insect collection. He pointed out his favorites and filled me in on all the details..... the countries they were from, the type of insects they were and the method(really an art) used to dry them for display. I was quite shocked by how passionate he was about these bugs and was even more shocked to find myself deeply interested in all the details he was describing . I was amazed by how beautiful(if slightly icky) these intricate little bugs were.

For our second date, we went to one of Roger's favorite spots, San Francisco's natural history museum. During our trip there he made a point of bringing me to the insect exhibit where together we studied the walls of insects ranging from frighteningly large walking sticks of the rain forests to wonderfully decadent jeweled beetles while Roger shared his wealth of insect knowledge with me. I had seen the bug exhibit at the museum before but never really paid it any attention.

But as this delightfully enthusiastic man went on about the exquisitely complex beauty and nature of the insect world, I found my self utterly fascinated.

Like I had seen something very special for the very first time.

And I think that I had.

At the time, I had no idea, what adventures lie in wait for me.

That I would go onto marry that man about a year later.

That the insect world would end up playing a consistent part in our adventures together.

I NEVER would have imagined that there would be bugs incorporated into my wedding cake topper........

(which there was),

that I would eventually have a rhinoceros beetle and a colony of leaf insects as pets,

or that some day it would be perfectly routine and normal to have a jar containing a huge spider, a particularly interesting beetle or an angry wasp sitting on the kitchen counter on any given day.

That man-friend of mine, he like bugs.

A lot.

He is intrigued and inspired by them.

He often incorporates them into his art.

And brings them up in conversation.

In recent years he has even taught classes to the kids at our church about the amazing God-breathed beauty and purposes of the insect kingdom.

Strangely enough, bugs have become a familiar theme in my life. My children have been raised to value these little creatures and they consider him the coolest dad ever because of it. While I will never be quite as enthusiastic about bugs as roger, I have grown to enjoy them more than I ever would have expected.

The list of things I appreciate about my fabulously quirky man-friend is practically never-ending,

but,

one of my most favorite things about him is his ability to notice the beauty and order in things that you would least expect it from.

My men.

My love.

My firstborn son.

My baby boy.

A handsome and charming lot.

Certainly, there is no denying that they are related.

Can you tell which is which?

Parties. Pumpkin and otherwise.

It is no secret that our family loves a good party.

We love to go to parties......

we love to host parties.

Really,

we just love the experience that comes with a gathering of people you love.

Or maybe just a gathering of people you want to know more.

Really,

there is just great beauty

in a gathering of people in general.

A collection of people

all so different

and unique.

Together in one place

to experience something together......

something significant

(a celebration of a pending birth, a remembrance of a life lived well, a observation of a sacred holiday),

sometimes something insignificant

(the first hot day of the year, an exciting television show )

or simply just to enjoy a good meal together.

Whatever the event

and whatever the motive,

I like them all.

We make a point of throwing several parties a year.

Some are just spur of the moment parties.....

a weekend BBQ or a spontaneous gathering for a friend from out of town.

Some are consistent.

Tradition.

Events my children expect

and look forward to each year.

Parties they will remember

as sweet rhythms of their childhood.

Days of merriment that mark my calender

and remind me to savor

this day,

season,

moment.

The rhythm of our year

that evokes a time of reflection

of another year passed.

A time to fill my home with the people we cherish.

One of these annual parties is our annual pumpkin carving party.

This was our 7th year.

The premise is simple....

a party to carve pumpkins.

We make up a couple of pots of hot apple cider and mulled wine.

And put out a bunch of carving implements.

People come into our home

with their pumpkins,

to create their jack-o-lanterns,

drink a hot beverage

and

enjoy each other's company.

Every year we have cheap dollar store prizes

for the best pumpkin

and we all eagerly and enthusiastically

cheer on the winner.

It is probably our silliest party of the year......

and perhaps the most fun.

Here are some highlights from this year.........

fall photos

In the fall of 2000 we lived in a little duplex that had a huge beautiful tree in the front yard. Our two children spent countless hours playing the leaves that blanketed the ground underneath the tree. That year we took tons of photos of the kids playing in the leaves and later that year we turned one of those shots into our Christmas card. The next year came and as the leaves began to fall once again we remembered the Christmas card photo from the year before and decided to take a similar shot of the kids but this time at a park. And the next year we did the same... and every year since. The exact location changes from year to year but it is always basically the same.... an outside location with some clear evidence of the changing seasons. We now have a collection of almost 10 years of photos. It has become a great way to keep a record of our growing kids(and family..... when we started we only had 2 kids!).

2002

2006

2008

2009

A Pile of Leaves

This year Ezra was the perfect size to fit into a hand-me-down costume of his big brother's. It was one that I actually put together for Ethan when he was 2 years old. It is just a real simple little costume but I think it suited him well.