Sarah Coleman Kelnhofer writes from College Place, where she and her husband strive to tame their half-acre of wilderness while their children try to reclaim it. Last year, she even grew pansies – in a secret location – hidden from the local wildlife.
Soon after entering college, I discovered what would become a lifelong passion. Necessity (in the form of a shriveled bank account) combined with my newfound mobility to provide fuel for my fresh love, and before long, I joined the ragtag ranks of those who boasted the finds they discovered while “thrifting.”
Preparing five people to participate in an out-of-town wedding provides ample opportunity for frustration.
Morning arrives early when you’ve got a date with self-discipline.
The small nature child perched on my right shoulder rolls her eyes and jabs me to make my standard rebuttal. “It’s more than a hobby, it’s a lifestyle. And it’s good for our health!”
“How do I connect a ‘b’ to an ‘e’?” Summer’s voice jars me back to the present, and I look up with vacant eyes.
“Can I just sit in the car while you walk?” Jared voices the very idea I’ve been hatching, and I frown.
I decompress by picking bits of lint and sticky pennies from the allergen host formerly known as my carpet.
This year I should get into the spirit. It’s our team — our moment! I try to muster some spunk, but instead, sense a yawn coming on.
Routine. It’s a word (and a reality) I typically dread. Although I know full well that certain rhythms keep life ticking smoothly along, most repetitive activities reduce me to agony.
Low clouds slink across the sky as we bounce toward Lost Lake Campground in the Okanogan National Forest. We’re all a little nervous about the prospect of rain, but it’s not often we get to convene a gathering of cousins and we’re not about to back down. The late-summer scenery looks tired and thirsty — the bright green of spring replaced with a dust-covered drab that tells me how welcome the moisture would be.