Remains of the holidays

[the drawing is still open until tomorrow]

Here are a few moments from the end of the holiday season.



Alder's remains and our new side board


Curtains that Grandma and I made for Alder, the beginnings of revamping his room.


The quilt Kevin made for Alder [click on the picture if you want the full story]

Changes towards Simplicity

There are a lot of little changes that are going on in my life right now. The good sort. We've spent quite a few years just trying to "get through" pretty much since we left Durango, but now we have found a place we would like to call home and finally all the ideas of someday are becoming today. For years after we first met we talked and lived very simply, but grad school and moving has complicated life a lot. Often it was easier to let the simple lifestyle get away from us because of time and money constraints... well mainly the time and stress.

But lately I've been feeling (and we did both come to this thought quite separately the conversation was so connecting) that really we need to go back to all those ideas that we have put to some day. So often it feels easier to take what is handed to you prepackaged or prearranged when actually once you start the habits of simplicity they take so much less effort. It is the starting that take the most psychological effort. 

So as this year winds down and I look towards the return of the sun I want to welcome it inspired to return to simplicity. I have visions of peacefulness washing over our household by midsummer.  Even now as I begin the process of simplifying I can see this difference, more gets done, communication is smoother, creativity returns. But this is just a start there is so many facets to living simply that we have to return to that the process is almost like building a home, thankfully we already have the foundation built.

The end to my weekend

I am sitting here in disbelief. We had a beautiful Thanksgiving, I was in the middle of up loading pictures when the phone rang. The beauty of the last week has dissipated fleeing to corners of my mind where later I can unpack them. For now this past week has turned to sorrow.

I can't even put my words together right now, my chest feels like I've drank ten espressos. I am still wrapping my mind around the fact that Steve died, thankfully in his sleep. This vibrant man, Doctor, musician, involved with the world he is gone. Everyday, gowning up, I would walk past his office on my way to school. Like all the other characters that are in my life he was so much more...I can't explain we weren't close, I've been gone for ten years and before that I was just a shy kid, but he was always part of the list of people who indirectly made up my family. And lately that list keeps shrinking, lately I'm feeling like my circles are shrinking that I need to hold on tight to the parts of my life that have always been there. Not exclusive of new people but to totally absorb what I have always known; my family.

I had been thinking about how as I get older my family becomes more important to me, earlier as we heaed home this afternoon. We are an intense bunch, but we like each other and we have fun together. I just want to hold onto them tighter now, wishing I was with them still in the big warm house by the fire where we could talk this through, have a few drinks tell stories, and make it okay, if death is ever okay.

Our apartment felt gray and bland after this weekend, now it feels silent and history-less. This place has not become the nest it should be. It needs to be, we are here for a while we need to start writing our story of this home and us in it.

If you read this take a moment and think to yourself who your list of characters that have been around for a long time, family and sort of family and make sure you spend a little more time with each of them, now, not later when you can't.

[I will return to the 30 days tomorrow]

color and light One Good Thing One Creative Thing Day 5

One Good Thing: Watching the sunrise over breakfast.



One Creative Thing: [Written at the library yesterday]

I have to admit I hate crayons. Even as a child I hated then. their colors are dull and they never stay sharp enough. I clearly remember repeatedly trying to color shapes only to find the crayon drawing on the other side of the line. I know that there were kids in my class who could color perfectly, their lines were never crossed and when they filled in shapes the colors covered evenly with all the strokes going in the same direction.

After crayons we were introduced to colored pencils, 12 color boxes of Prisomcolor to be exact. While I could sharpen the point as much as I wanted the colors were still bland, no matter how hard I pushed. I craved the streaks of vibrant colors as much as I wanted to create the images in my head. But I was still sloppy and would get in trouble for not following the directions (remember this was just lower school). I tried, I really did, but my hands just couldn't move the pencils as delicately as the projects called for.

At home was a different story. Here I had my father's old watercolors that I would spend my Saturday mornings painting with rather than watching cartoons (the TV was in my parents bedroom). I remember years of painting little landscapes on scrap paper. I would create them with repeated lines; obsessing over the exact tone of the ocean, the sand, the clouds above. Each of them would be tiny worlds that I could enter. Around that time I was reading the Secret Garden and was enamored with the Scottish Moors. I drew scene after scene of what I thought those moors would look like.

When I had painted the pans empty my father would take me to the neighborhood art store to choose a new set. He was adimant that I use "real" paints not the flashy kids ones (whose flash was in the packaging not the paint). In the end I would usually come home with a yellow enamel box of Pelikan paints, the same sort I used all the way through college. My father never studied art or teaching but he knew what he liked to look at enjoyed reading about art. If he was going to have to hang the pieces that I did up then he wanted to like what he was looking at. In his mind this meant that I should have the supplies that would give me the best chance of taking the idea from my mind to the paper.

It was during these hours alone in his shop that I would play with the brushes, pigments and water, learning how each of them worked. While my princesses stood out as sloopy among the giant crowds of homogenious royalty that hung in the hallways of my school at home, with the watercolors my work was delicate.

The difference was simple; at school I was limited to choosing the colors and perhaps a little pattern while at home I was free to paint as I pleased for as long as I wanted to (or not at all). At school we were each handed a box of scented markers (at least these were vibrant) that no adult would pick up. At home I was given real supplies, pencils and paints that I would still use today. In retrospect there was no question about where my real art making was going on but at the time I sure I must be the worst artist in the world because I couldn't get my flowers to look just like the girl who sat next to me in class (who by the way was always weatring matching Benneton socks and shirts).

I knew. I knew not to stop what I was doing at home, in some ways I couldn't. I felt it when my father would take me for long Saturdays of walking from gallery to gallery in SoHo and I knew it when we would spend entire days in a single wing of the Met. I could see it in the modern paintings and I could see it in the cases of African masks. So I didn't stop. After each of these days out with my dad I would come home and try my hand at what I had seen.

Even now when I return to visit my father and find relics of my childhood art around the house. Its survival over the past three decades is not sentimentality, although that I am his daughteris part of it, they are all pieces that he felt were beyond my age when I created them. He knew it then and despite himself has directed me in this direction. I always find it amusing when I hear about parents who brought their children up to be doctors or lawyers and I respond that I was brought up to be an artist.

At this point it is up to me. If I really want to be this artist that I can be I have to work at it put in the time and space. Otherwise I am jut another person who messes around with paint.

One Good Thing One Creative Thing Day 3 and 4

Day 3
One Good Thing: After Kevin and Alder went to sleep I stayed up listening to this and knitting by the fire.
One Creative Thing: I spent three hours knitting on a simple scarf, a longways knit alpaca in purple with a diamond pattern (pictures to come when it is finished right now it looks like a caterpillar).

Day 4
One Good Thing: Well really lots of good things. I got to sleep almost to nine. We went out for breakfast to here, and got there just before the crowds. Came home and Alder and I did projects in the wood shop for hours. Made a yummy dinner form things found around the house and ended up with gnocchi with sauce and steamed broccoli. Another night of knitting by the fire until I ran out of yarn.
One Creative Thing: While in the wood shop I started working on Alder's holiday gift. So far there has been a lot of sanding and cutting. Alder hammered nails into a board and drew pictures.


I remember spending hours down in the shop building things. Whether it was the tug boat that my father and I made that still stands on my dresser wit the film canister as a smoke stack or the pencil box that I build and stained myself when I was eleven it was always an amazing space to be in. Even yesterday as I worked on my project I found myself remembering exactly where certain nails were by feel rather than reading the labels on the jars.

There was a special joy involved in handing Alder the child's hammer for the first time, it is an identical one to the one adult one just a little smaller and lighter. Then handing him the cup that says "kid nails" on the outside on tape that has been there since I was a child, so old that it fell off and the glue holding it on became a gold dust on the table. Just like my father I set the nails in just deep enough that they would hold and let him hammer away at the board.



Hammering is difficult for little hands and he soon switched to drawing at the card table as I sawed and sanded, public radio in the background. Here I was an adult showing my own child the same things my father did, handing him the same tools and telling him some of the same stories. Next week when we are all at the cabin I hope there might be a few moments that all three of us are down there working on something, three generations touching the same tools bringing all of us joy in the making.

Did anyone notice?

Part of me is tempted to edit my last post...I may sometime this week. I was just reading it and was amused to see just how badly written a lot of it was, especially the sections where I was talking about writing. I'm a little distracted lately (see previous post) so I haven't always been rereading my writing before I post it.

I hope everyone is having a nice Saturday, it's wet and warm here and Grandma and Grandpa are coming for dinner, so life is good.

How to get where you want to be...or the reality of the immediate needs versus the eventual goal

"House!" he said as he dumped the bin of blocks onto the floor.

For a long time now I have had goals for what I want my life to be like. I want to have the ability to choose for Alder the best educational setting that I can, and that I want to raise him consciously and full of creativity and passion. Ideal I would love to stay home with him a lot and work some as a writer. Of course that isn't our reality right now. The economy is effecting how many clients Kevin is seeing and it just isn't enough. Since we moved I have been working part time doing high end retail at a natural parenting store (read cloth diapers organic clothing, baby slings breast pumps and the like). It is a job I have a hard time with, I love helping new parents to choose the right diaper set up or baby sling but I have a hard time with the need for $60 children's hat or $18 a pair underwear. But it was a job that I got quickly and I love all the people I work with.

But our bills (which are not very much to begin with) are out of our reach still. A few nights ago I couldn't sleep and I went looking on-line for a new job when I found one that looks like I would be a good match for, it pays better and it is still only twent hours a week. But the best thing about the job is that it is one where I would be helping people reenter the work force. Teaching them to write resumes, do interviews, help them with employment skills. It would be making a difference in a real way. So once again I am rewriting my resume and fiddling with words to make me seem like the right person for this job.

I haven't even gotten the job and I feel bad. I am not ready to send Alder off for childcare yet, not as much as this job would require. I am guilty of being a dreamer about how our life should be but don't want to go through the in between stage of working other jobs while working towards becoming a better paid writer and while Kevin builds a consistant client base but we have to.

I'll admit I have a lot of envy for the lives of many of the women whose blogs I read, I want the house, the calm life, the ability to choose what I do with my time. But this envy isn't a negative it has helped me to clarify my goals and makes me realize that to end up living this life I aspire to I must be active in creating it. So I start slowly, I write article topics, I design cards, I look for work, I build toys for my son, I take him to to the woods alone and with friends, and I find joy with the new and deep connections that I am making with my family. But it doesn't mean that I don't stare longinly at the crisp photos taken with better cameras or wonder what it would be like to live in a space wholly our own.

These are only examples the reality is much more complex because there is an outside world impossing itself on me and there is a husband who doesn't always agree with me and there are days where I much rather look at blogs of other people's life than live my own.

Making

There has been a lot of making going on around here lately. Alder has been drawing a lot and I've been knitting. Kevin even made a new comforter cover.


Chicken


Sweater


A favorite place to draw

I can't wait to start to start this hat and this one as well.

But now we're off on an sewing adventure, heading down to get fabric for curtains and well a little bit of temptations.

A weekend

A sleeping Alder is giving me a moment to tell you a little about our weekend.


A Project


Dinner Out with the Girls






Spending Time with Family, following in traditions.




Not photographed: a pitiful yard sale (enough for lunch and what we bought at the really cool yard sale across the street), two job interviews, and Alder spending the day with Irie and Sarah with us away. Now I really should be filling boxes.

I am the Storm

I'm not sure if I should be posting this here, it's sort of personal.

We are broke , search the couch for change to buy milk sort of broke. I didn't think we were going to be here again. It wasn't the supposed to be this way. But then no one ever plans on going broke and certainly not when they spent a year writing a business plan and securing funding for the business- the business that your husband went to graduate school for four year to do.

Where does this leave you but borrowing money from your parents again, to pay rent. Of course, this money comes with the rights. The ones where they can start telling you what you should be doing now. The ones that mean despite being 35 and despite the many hours on our own hashing out what went wrong and what we need to change, they are entitled to go through all of this again with the biting feel of parental disappointed, akin to being fifteen.

Your decisions are judged and everything you do is doubted. Bring into this a happy 2 year old who everyone loves. Suddenly he is the subject of scrutiny, is he speaking enough, does he eat the right things, what if he's sick can we care for him? You feel watched from afar, you try to give all the right information, the truth highlighting progress; both your's and the 2 year old. But it is difficult when most days are spent just getting between morning and bedtime. It's hard to make enough progress for people when you work at the speed of life and their expectations are at the speed of imagination. It's hard to explain how life can't be put aside to make things happen, how a crying son can't be left to later. Then there are the few minutes a day you used to have yourself can. Those few moments that are all you have left, except that someone else has a claim on them. All of this adds to the stress, the feelings, and to the life you are still living.

The feelings are so complicated you are almost 35 and you have a 2 year old who you are moving again for the 2nd time since he was born. There are days you can't look at his always happy face because it makes you cry. You know that he is witnessing all those things in your house that you swore against before you had a child. It makes you want to cry knowing that every time you correct him (no hitting, no ripping books) he cries a little longer and a little louder. You are afraid that you will ruin this happy child. But you are so tired and stressed that it is hard not to be frustrated in front of him, and even with him. It hurts more when you know how you want to be with him and haven't the energy to do it.

Instead you two take long walks-where you can think while he jumps from steps and later sleeps in the stroller- and play with puppets sometimes, which is easier than other games. Other days are good you get out and see friends (and their chickens) you make your meals together and draw together. On the good days there is some order to things there are games and naps. On those days it seems like it could stay that way, but you can't do it not with all the stresses in your life. Maybe the next morning, or the next, something will set off again and life will not fit. You will be in the playground too long or too short, the very favorite wooden spoon will be missing just as the sink is filled for playing. Then you will both be grumpy, because you won't get to play and I won't get a rest, especially when Baba is gone for eleven hours for work- leaving us without a car.

To be honest there are days that are worse- ones where I wake up a storm and nothing you or Baba does will make it better. My tears will flow. I will want to hide, and I will want to be the center of attention. I will stomp my feet and yell or I will curl in a ball and cry. On these days I ruin everything for everyone, even if the fight is inside of me it spills out around me. Baba needs to pick up the pieces of debris; the frightened child, the crumpled Mama. As the storm in me drifts I start to look for the possibilities. The next day will be delicate, all of us recovering from the storm but the next will be back to normal, until our stresses begin to rise again.

Cutting Costs

Like everyone else out there we have been struggling with the rise in cost of oil. Both directly with our gas tank and indirect with food. We have decided to use the next month to cut our spending as much as possible. In fact we have challenged ourselves in a few different areas of our life to see how the changes affect our bank account. I admit that while a lot of these changes are ones that we have been wanting to make for a long time our reasons for changing them now are initiated by our personal need to spend less money.

We've already reduced the amount of extra driving trips from our life, this has been especially tough for me who is a wanderer by nature so I have had to get used to having my wings clipped. I am starting to discover more nearby and really appreciate the times that I do get to go for longer drives. But driving is still a big part of our life (at least for the next few weeks) since Kevin is now commuting four days a week out of town.

The changes that we are making are as follows:

1) Eating out only once a week. Other than books, which we have already cut way down on this is really our only extra expenditure.

2) Move to the town where Kevin is working, in walking distance of his job. This is a big one, right now we have an almost 500 dollar a month gas bill. It will also cut down on driving because there is a lot for Alder and I to do in this town that is either walking distance or very short drives.

3) We are moving into a much smaller apartment that is all on one floor. This is more important for the winter when we won't have as much to heat. Plus it has a fenced in yard and is a few blocks from a playground.

4) We are going to get back into baking all of our bread products. Another bonus of our new apartment is that it has a great kitchen. Right now we're stuck with barely any counter space.

5) Air dry most of our laundry, this one is still going to take some persuading of Kevin but I'm determined.

I'm going to use this blog to help me keep track of our progress. In theory the eating out ban is only for a month but we hope that we'll just get into the habit.

Any other ideas on cost cutting is welcome.

A Weekend Away

We're back after a long weekend out at the cabin. Time was filled with exploring, cooking, family, friends, eating, exploring, a healthy interest in peeing in the potty, and more eating. The weather never seemed to want to stay sunny long enough to go swimming but we did make some new friends.


Alder's party was fun. The low effort recipe I decided on had me running off at 7 am on 4th of July to find panchetta over 30 miles away (hey I'm not one to skimp on a recipe), followed by covering the house with flour looking for places to dry noodles (did I mention how low effort this meal was?). But it all came together was people arrived. Alder even had a few friends to run up and down the hill and jump off of rocks.

But being back home I'm ready to start on the next project... oh wait I haven't mentioned that yet, I'll elaborate tomorrow.

train of thought

We're back and life is no clearer than it was before. In the last week we have "tried on" at least eight different possibilities of lives. Instead, I'm sitting here in the coffee shop on the computer trying to figure it all out. What better way of doing that than by asking for ideas.

We are at the point where we realize that our business was not working at the speed that we thought it would. There are a lot of things that need to change in our business plan if we are going to stay here. The only other some-what viable option is to move to Albany, although this is seeming less likely at the moment. This leaves us in the position that we are going to take some time to regroup, get more financially stable, and reconfigure our business.

This all feels a little like defeat but I am trying to look at it more as a pause so that we can come back stronger. Of course the shop is closed for good, a wonderful woman has taken over our lease and is already opening her fabric shop. Because of the nature of the area we live in a regular acupuncture business won't work, people just don't have the money to pay for it. So we have been exploring the idea of opening a community acupuncture clinic, basically the treatments involve less talking and use needles on the arms, legs, and ears only, and the patient is treated in a community room with a bunch of recliners. The advantage is that you can treat up to five people an hour at a much less expensive rate (15- 40 sliding scale). I'll write more tomorrow or Monday about this.

Because of our work experience and our family situation we have decided that Kevin will look for the primary job while I look for something that I can do from home. I've started looking but there is an amazing amount of internet crap that shows up when you look for online jobs. If anyone has any ideas about legitimate resources I would love to hear about them.

Honestly, I really can't wait to feel stable again it is tiring trying to stay happy when you are worrying about how you are going to pay rent and bills. I'm done feeling sorry for myself and am ready to just push through and create our life from real things not just our imagination.

This has turned into much more of a journal entry than I was expecting I'll keep it up here anyway since I really would love any input.

Update part 2

After a very long week in New York with Alder I am happy to say that Kevin is getting here tomorrow in time for Passover dinner with the family. Most of this week was spent just Alder and I checking out different neighborhoods and their playgrounds. In fact until today we were doing two playgrounds a day plus a lot of walking. Today we spent the afternoon with my cousin "aunt Amanda" and she and I got hair cuts and had a nice stroll in Central Park.

Sunday we're heading out on our adventure north to Maine.

Many many pictures when we return.

On Running Away

On Sunday Alder and I went for a drive, it was meant to be only twenty minutes away. But then I got it in my head that we would visit my godparent's who were of course not there. By then we were only a half hour away from Northampton, and what better place to walk around aimlessly and possibly find this book. So we turned our twenty minute drive into an hour and a half.

The trip turned into something more important. Life has been very hectic for the last six months and Alder has really gotten lost in the chaos (more on this and the changes being made soon). So for this day I let him lead. We spent almost and hour in this toy store, basically it's like walking into a Nova Naturals catalog. Then we walked around the Main Street twice until settling on Paul and Elizabeth's for lunch. I hadn't been there since lunch on the day I got married, and not almost five years later I was sitting there with my son.

A few hours and one warm chocolate chip cookie later we ended up at home to a delicious and good looking meal that Kevin created, involving pasta, sundried tomatoes, eggplant, sunflower seeds and some other goodies.

Grandma and Grandpa's visit

Just some pictures from the visit not a lot to say today.

No.. and why we don't use it

'No, don't do that," Grandma quietly reprimanded Alder the other day while they were eating. He looked at her incredulously wondering what was so wrong. A spoonful of yogurt on his sweater was only part of eating wasn't it. Each time he eats there is one less spoonful on his clothing and one more time that he decides to wipe his own face with his napkin.

Grandma meant no harm, he was just trying to get him to keep clean, she wasn't angry at him or annoyed. No was just the first word out of her mouth, it's instinct to say No to kids. To halt them in the middle of what ever process they are in because something doesn't fit with our adult perception of how their situation should play out. No falls so easily from the lips it comes to mean stop and halt and don't do that to the point where the language learning child only sees the emotions behind the word (bad child) and gains no understanding.

So we avoid No as much as possible in our house. If what he is doing is not harming him, others or the place we are he basically can do what he likes. Rather we try to help him to understand when different sorts of activities shouldn't happen. Grabbing Mama's legs while she is pouring pasta into the colander gets a "hot" while throwing the pile of bills on the desk gets "find something else to do." He understands these words and phrases not just as cues and as ideas. "Finding something else to do" usually sends him off to get a pan or a toy to play with, without confrontation or feeling like we are mad with him. I know he isn't trying to mess up the important papers, he doesn't even understand what they are other than a tempting stack to be knocked over. If we aren't in the middle of something, like the pasta, we immediately help him to find something to do that we are both happy with.

Of course, often these cases are really just that he needs our attention and love. I am always amazed when I remember to play with him for a half hour uninterrupted before I cook dinner or do some other grownup thing how much easier it is for him to be content to occupy himself'. On days we spend the whole day together I always make sure there is a lot of Alder chosen activities interspersed with my needs. If we have errands to do during the day I know that it's better to do them early ending with a park or hike for a while. If it's nasty out a long bath is always good for smiles so is play-dough or dried beans in a bowl of water. I don't feel that we are here to train our children to only fit our needs, we should be spending our time learning them, understanding what makes both of our days happy and peaceful.

Are we perfect? Of course not, especially when we are tired and grumpy it is easy to forget and slip into No mode. That doesn't help the situation, barking off No at random for actions that are usually okay or met with gentle or some other cue only frustrates and confuses him. This usually ends in tear.

There are times we use No on purpose, they are rare and are only when his safety are involved. Knives and traffic seem to be the main ones but everything else there is always time. (I should say we don't leave knives around on purpose but occasionally Alder has climbed onto the dinning room table while we're setting or clearing it and has grabbed the knife).

There is a second reason that we avoid the word No, and it is been successful. It seems that so many children it is one of their first words and then they go around saying it a lot, and I really wanted to avoid that. We figured if we were not saying it all the time then he might not use it as much. So far this has worked, while he might shake his head if he doesn't want a certain food or piece of clothing, the words he has right now don't include any negative. We have: yeah, teeth, shoes, eyes, tree, cat, ma(more), ha (hot), Papa and Mama, Mom, and Momi!

Sure he can be a wild monkey but our wild monkey also loves to line shoes up in rows and is starting to clear the table on his own volition.

Who are we seeing this weekend...or how this peaceful weekend turned crazy

Just a few of the people we're going to see this weekend.






Kevin and I were planning on having a quiet week. Sure we were going to meet up with the family for a big sugar shack breakfast on Saturday, but we were really going to focus this week on focusing and simplifying. But then yesterday afternoon Kevin's dad call to say that they have to go to Kansas City and that they might as well drive out and visit us as well. Let me explain that is saying basically that they are turning a 1600 mile round trip into a 4000 one. Not only that but they'll be here tomorrow night.

Needless to say our plans for a restorative and planning week have disappeared. Instead we will be wrapped in lots of family goodness. This does mean that there are curtains to make and corners we've forgotten about to clean. Have I mentioned the bathroom lately? Well that to needs a serious deep cleaning job. I love Kevin's family and can't wait to see them. But his mom is such a fanatical cleaner that I have some work to do.

Mix that in with a Purim Party tonight (I slacked Alder is going in the same costume as Halloween) and an article due this afternoon, I am one stressed puppy (that would be a Kevinism).

Happy March 1st

Never have I had a month so full of reasons to give up. I always forget just what February is like until I am full ensconced in it. I think it's different in Colorado where it's sunny between the snows and fifty degree days pop up regularly. Here in Vermont there's more darkness, more cold, more of a lot of things. This month has been a tough one with thoughts of moving, a dying cat, and few customers (snow keeps people home). But we've made it through somewhat intact.

To celebrate the beginning of March I made nested eggs this morning. It's one of those very cool looking delicious breakfasts that don't take too much effort. Even Alder, who doesn't like eggs, enjoyed the cheesy meringue.

Bancha Aug 2002 - Feb 2008

We had to put Bancha to sleep yesterday. Although he was only 6 1/2 years old, he had Feline Leukemia which means he lived incredibly long. Up until the last month he had been healthy, but something happened and they think that he had a tumor. He was my first pet and felt more like a member of the family.

He was a unique cat, or so I am told, with a sense of humor and the intuit ability to know when I needed comfort. He was so gentle with Alder even when A would try to drag him places by the tail. He was my talisman keeping me safe from my own fears when Kevin worked nights.

This is the cat that opened doors by pulling them and never once knocked over a wine glass when he would wander the table looking for snacks after late night dinner parties. He was king of his alley even when he could not leave our yard. And when he did, and was bitten by a fox, he survived to live another year and a half. This was the kitten that would run in circles on the couch and launch himself into the picture window and fall in a heap only to get up and do it again five more times.

This is the cat that not only drove across the country to come to our wedding, but then followed us a mile up the road to join us that first night after we were married. And then drove back out here again in the u-haul with Kevin, only to be walloped by a neighbor cat the first day while we were unpacking (have you ever tried to keep a cat in while you unpack a moving van?

Kevin and I have often joked that it was really Bancha who was in charge of this family. We have both cried over this and are finding ways to mourn him. I don't think we will be getting any new pets soon.