We want to see art.

Quote of the Day:  Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. Anis Nin

Outside the Minneapolis Institute of Art/Children's Theatre

 

Krista and I brought her twin girls to The Cat in the Hat on Saturday. They gave the show four thumbs up, shook hands with Thing Two, then said, "We want to see art." When we brought them to Pippi Longstocking, also at the Children's Theatre, it was Art in Bloom at MIA, which they remembered. So, off we ran to see "The mouse ran up the clock" clock!

 

 

We were reprimanded a couple times for running. "Please walk in the Minneapolis Institue of Art." I had flashbacks to reading, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E.L. Konigsburg, where a brother and sister spend a whole week hiding out in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Konigsburg won the Newbery Medal for her novel in 1967.

 

I liked this one from Swedish painter, Anders Zorn.

 

They zoomed from room to room looking for favorites from our previous visit and finding new art to admire. We both took a picture of the one above.

 

Mama let the girls take turns with her camera.

 

Let me look!

 

 

Art inspiring young artists!

 

Do you like that one?

 

It was a gorgeous fall day and we had some time to spare, so we took a walk across the stone bridge down by the Guthrie Theatre. We saw and heard many worlds happening all around us. We saw three wedding parties getting photographed. A young woman was getting a photography lesson from a man. This man set up his easel. I wish I had grabbed his card or asked his name. Maybe his painting will be at MIA some day?

 

 

Many people were using this setting for photo shoots.

 

 

 

We also witnessed a marriage proposal which didn't go as smoothly as the father (of the groom?) was trying to coordinate. We saw the group setting up. They were holding signs with letters and dots and a larger sign with _ARRIAGE on it. At first, I thought it might be a group making an add for the Vote No on the Minnesota Marriage amendment. It got me thinking as we crossed the bridge how you could have many different kinds of couples holding up the M: people of different ethnic backgrounds, men & women, men & men, women & women, to illustrate that love doesn't come in homogenous box.

 

That's not what was happening.

 

 

We were walking along, have a grand old time, admiring the brides and the dresses, the gorgeous fall colors, and eavesdropping on all the worlds on the bridge. We bought ice cream and snow cones from the vendor and headed back across the bridge. The dad of the _ARRIAGE proposal group jumped in front of us and yelled, "Stop!" With the sudden stop and yelling, the snow cone slipped out of the cone and plopped on the bridge. The dad looked at it and the sad girl and said, "Sorry. I'll buy you a new one. We're helping with a marriage proposal." The bridge traffic was backed up behind us. The dad was yelling at everyone to STOP! He had his binoculars in one hand, his camera in the other, and commanded each person in the proposal party to line up on the other side. The potential bride and groom were on the 9th floor of the Guthrie, looking down at the bridge.

 

We were feeling hot and bothered.

 

When we were finally allowed to walk through, the dad conveniently forgot his promise to buy the girl a new snow cone, gave her a weak appology that was filled with excuses and justification for his actions. He asked if she would forgive him, and she shook her head. We went home, leaving the colorful snow cone to melt on the bridge.

 

Good luck with that _ARRIAGE!

 

Three young ladies were watching the proposal from the other side of the group. I overheard one say, "Doesn't that make you want to get engaged just a little?" Her friend, who was leaning on the railing didn't miss a beat with her response, "No."

 

Go. Create. Inspire! (And, hold tight to your snow cones!)

 

Journaling Prompt:  Have you ever had a snow cone dropping experience? How did you handle it? Does that _ARRIAGE proposal story make you want to get engaged?

 

 

 

 

 

 

IWSG Tardy, Again

Quote of the Day:  There are two weapons in the writer's arsenal...The first is stamina and the second is uncompromising belief in yourself. Leon Uris

On this September 5th edition of the Insecure Writer's Support Group, I'm low on both. Thanks to Alex J. Cavanaugh for starting this online group and all the great insecure writers who participate. Go to his blog for more info.

And, I'm tardy again on my posting, so here are my excuses.

(The middle one is not really that much taller. He's on the top step.)

Yesterday was the first day of the 2012-13 school year. We were up and out of bed before 6:00 am. The middle son was at his school for earlybird class by 6:45, and the other two biked off to the middle school by 7:15, backpacks loaded, tummies full of blueberry muffins, and heads and hearts filled with good wishes to the start of a new year.

After supper, the neighborhood boys wanted to run off a little bit of first day of school steam, so they gathered at the park. I headed back to the store for more school supplies. Just as I entered the store, my cellphone rang. "Mom, I've been stung." One of the twins, Eric, has had an allergic reaction to wasp stings in the past, so I turned right around and brought him to the ER. He didn't show much reaction, but they took good care of him. All the while, I thought of his twin brother, Charlie, who had also been stung, twice, at the same park, at the same time, and wondered if he needed attention. I tried calling. No answer. About an hour after we got to the ER, the phone rang. "Ya, Charlie seems to be reacting to the sting." Thanks to big brother Zach, he got some Benadryl. I told the ER nurse that I had to go. I said, "His twin brother was also stung and is having a reaction, so I need to go get him. I'm going to leave this one here, and go get the other one. I'll be right back."

By 11:00, we were finally home. The boys sleep-walked into the house, and I fell into bed. I'm still recovering as I write this post about writing and found the quote that explains my problem. I don't think I have the stamina nor the "uncompromising belief" in myself right now. It seems a little selfish, actually, to daydream about writing fiction right now.

So, I sent my groggy boys off to school today, still needing a couple extra notebooks, minus their football shoes, and spent the morning trying to regroup.

Tomorrow's my birthday. Maybe I'll get the gift of stamina and self-confidence. But, if not, chocolate will work.

Go. Create. Inspire!

Journaling Prompt:  What do you do when you're low on stamina and belief in yourself?

Birthday Bash and Baseball

Quote of the Day:  Baseball quotes found here.

You gotta be a man to play baseball for a living, but you gotta have a lot of little boy in you, too. ~Roy Campanella

Baseball was made for kids, and grown-ups only screw it up. ~Bob Lemon

I see great things in baseball. It's our game - the American game. It will take our people out-of-doors, fill them with oxygen, give them a larger physical stoicism. Tend to relieve us from being a nervous, dyspeptic set. Repair these losses, and be a blessing to us. ~Walt Whitman

Double the cake. Double the guest list. Double the fun. Double the volume (alright, the volume was more than double).  My own Minnesota Twins turned 11 last Friday.  It was a big birthday bash. Then invitations read, "and bring a baseball glove."  Thank God for nice weather.  They all ran, walked, or rode anything with wheels down to the park and set up their game of baseball.  When I got there, I suggested they turn the diamond around and hit towards the trees, not the road.  They hit.  They ran.  They argued.  I determined that middle school age boys still need an ump.  I did not volunteer.  I said, "Hey, I'm just here to take pictures."

It made me wonder.  Is the baseball field the first place where the male child tries to use his voice to get his way? 
Your foot wasn't on the base!
Yes, it was!
You didn't tag me!
Yes, I did!
I got there first!
I caught the ball before you stepped on the plate!

And, so on, until I thought, How can this be any fun? 

I stood up to leave and shouted, "I'm ordering the pizza."  Then, walked home, trailed by the pack of boys.

After the pizza, they used the football.  I think this is a game of 500.

I thought these pictures turned out great.  And, how can you argue?  The guy holding the ball is the one who caught it.

Finding your voice in the world isn't easy.  What's harder is being still and listening, and accepting that you're not always right, safe, or the winner.

Journaling Prompt:  You've just hit the ball and are running full speed to first base.  As your foot hits the base, you hear the ball land in the first baseman's glove.  Are you safe or out?  At what age can you play a "friendly" game of ball?

Double Trouble turns Double Digits

Quote of the Day:  There's a clean bathroom in Heaven for Mothers of boys. I saw that on a bathroom wall hanging at a friend's house, another mother of boys.  We're also called MOBOs (Mothers of Boys Only).

Those cute little babies from my post on True Friends turned into these tree-planting Cub Scouts.  They are turning 10 today, April 29. 

Happy Birthday, Boys!

Here are a few things I've learned about raising twin sons:
1.  Two babies at the same time is exhausting.  Naps were something I could only daydream about.
2.  Twin babies DO talk to each other.  They managed to outsmart, undo, and out-maneuver any so-called safety latch known to Moms.  (They helped each other climb over the baby gate!)
3.  I'm not lost if my brother is with me.  (They do tend to wander off, but they eventually find me back again. Thank God!)
4.  They can play a made-up game with little or no talking where they somehow know the rules and outcome.  It's amazing to watch.
5.  They love to argue and express their individuality, and they're each other's best friend.

Everything "they" say about twins is true.  They do have a special bond.  They do speak their own language.  They comfort each other and feel each other's pain.  When one is hurting the other cries.  Although they seem so much alike, they are more confident in being themselves because they have each other. 

Thank you, God, for my four healthy sons, and the double blessing I got on April 29, 2000.

Journaling Prompt:  Write about a special bond you have with a sibling, relative, or really close friend.