Capturing Images of Childhood

I couldn't wait to return to my hometown Friday. I had a feeling the leaves would have begun turning. They had and my camera was busy all week-end.

Standing at the sidewalk of my childhood home I realized how much the trees had grown since I moved away.

Driving uptown I parked at the corner close to the first home I remembered as a child. Some of the buildings look so much the same.

As expected, the trees are much, much taller like these behind Russel's house.

I realize why autumn is my favorite season. This is what my childhood looked like.

Blog Makeover Inspired by the Retreat and A Keeper from the Recipe Box

Recently I returned from a women's retreat at WoHeLo Lodge in Field Spring's State Park. It was so fun to see old friends and make new friends. Everyone had a different purpose for the retreat. There was no agenda, no set plans. That was perfect for me.

Everyone enjoyed gathering around the table for delicious meals and meaningful conversations. Outside people covered the picnic table with the bright colored blanket  for word games and mobile making.

In the evening we missed having a campfire (because of the high fire danger),

but time inside was spent getting henna tattoos, doing drama games, playing charades, and board games.

Some people hiked, others took pictures, a group drove to the river to swim, and most everyone got lots of good rest and relaxation.

 I also got to spend quality time with my sister and try a new recipe: Autumn Sangria pictured above.
( see recipe below)

One of my goals on this retreat was to rethink and revise this blog. This blog and I have been through many revisions, many looks, many style changes, and many template changes. Slowly I have been revamping it the last week. For now I like the look. I feel I have come full circle with many of the things I first liked about blogging way back in 2007.

Take a look around. Visit some of my favorite blog links. Revisit the sibling writing assignments and my favorite recipes. Give me feedback about what you think. I look forward to hearing from you!
Oh... and try the sangria!

fall sangria

3 apples

3 pears

3 clementines

2-3 cinnamon sticks
2 tbsp honey or agave syrup
6 oz triple sec or cointreau
2 bottles of red wine (something fruity works best)
optional: fresh cherries

1. core and cube all fruit and put into a pitcher or carafe

2. add 2-3 cinnamon sticks & 2 honey, stir

3. add liquor and wine, stir and let sit.

it's best if you make this drink a few hours or even a day in advnace and let the flavors marinate in the fridge.  Garnish  with fresh, ripe cherries.

Here is the link for the blog with the recipe:
http://cailenascher.blogspot.com/2011/10/happy-hour-fall-sangria.html

You Begin

I know I have shared this poem before, but now that I am teaching art again, it had a whole new meaning. Enjoy.

You Begin
By Margaret Atwood

You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, that is a fish, blue and flat on the paper, almost the shape of an eye. This is your mouth, this is an O or a moon, whichever you like. This is yellow. Outside the window is the rain, green because it is summer, and beyond that the trees and then the world, which is round and has only the colors of these nine crayons. This is the world, which is fuller and more difficult to learn than I have said. You are right to smudge it that way with the red and then the orange: the world burns. Once you have learned these words you will learn that there are more words than you can ever learn. The word hand floats above your hand like a small cloud over a lake. The word hand anchors your hand to this table, your hand is a warm stone I hold between two words. This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world, which is round but not flat and has more colors than we can see. It begins, it has an end, this is what you will come back to, this is your hand.

Retreat

For me retreat means to take my own time to breathe, slow down, find myself, create, laugh, appreciate the beauty of nature, and share meals with new friends and old friends and one sister.

I am heading out today for a Women's Retreat at Field Springs State Park. I am trying to figure out what I want to take with me on this retreat. Do I want to write? Perhaps I should practice my new art skiils. Maybe learn more about photography? Sleep? Read? Appreciate poetry?

I will make a decision soon and as always will take so much more than I need. I am relieved the wildfire smoke has cleared a bi and the weather is supposed to be beautiful. When I return.... photos as always.

Kindness and Compassion

Today a presenter from Rachel's Challenge came to visit our school. Rachel was the first student killed outside the school building at Columbine High School in 1999. Her challenge was explained to us today.
What I loved about the lessons learned today is that it is about moving toward the light, not focusing on the darkness. She felt that if all students and staff and community members of a school would move toward the light and focus on kindness and compassion we may start a chain reaction.

It made sense to me. Before I had even thought about Rachel's Challenge I had a sign up at the front of my room that says "Be Kind". It is a simple rule that carries a big message. Every day my responsibility is to demonstrate kindness and compassion. Some days it is hard. Some days I go overboard and show too much compassion. Other days kindness erupts from every corner of the classroom. The chain reaction is recognizing those acts of kindness. I try to model that, but I want my students to recognize it in others also. That will be part of our challenge.

Rachel admired and respected Martin Luther King Jr. One quote that was written in one of her journals and shared today was this: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” ― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches

These are words I will remember and repeat over and over.
Kindness, compassion, light, love.

Home Away from Home

I have always struggled with which place to call home. When I am going to my mom's house I always say, "I am going home." Where I grew up does seem like home. So does the place I call home right now. Confusing.
I stayed at my mom's house last week-end. We arrived Friday night to help with end-of-summer garden chores. It felt like home to have Mom's cold fried chicken, pasta salad, and good conversation. It was fun to sample a new sweet red wine together. I enjoyed getting caught up on family news.

It felt like home when I got up the next morning to enjoy Mom's hot, fresh coffee and see her with the Spokesman Review all sprawled around her as she greeted me with news of the day. Deadheading her flowers, comparing green thumb stories of plants we could and couldn't grow, and marveling over the Seven Sisters Rose felt like home. Seeing her solar lights as I watered her pots felt like home.

Losing stuff from the freezer to the upstairs felt like home for both of us. So did spilling coffee, dumping ash, and finding dog droppings.  Later the smell of her Weber barbecue cooking a London Broil reminded me of so many meals on the deck. As more family gathered for dinner, new drinks, laughs, and more laughs it felt like home.

We got a lot done in Mom's yard. I enjoyed the company, food, Saturday nap, flower picking, and much more.

When we arrived home yesterday the first thing I said after saying hello to the cats and checking the mail was, "There is no place like home." Last night as we enjoyed a pizza and a new wine with our animals surrounding us, it was home.

It is nice to have two homes.