Lenkaland

I found your dream home. If your dream home is potentially haunted next to the gas station. This treasure is for sale. Honest.

I actually connect with this sad house. Once, the wood was strong and straight. And it wasn’t ruined by disaster, or a big dramatic moment. No, this house was worn down. One storm after another. Small moments. Falling together. Falling apart.

I marvel how the wood changes and bends and softens. And while this house is sad, I also see strength. Against the odds, against that softening wood, it stands. It refuses to fall.

I wonder who will buy this house.

I wonder how long it takes, for the little damages to add up and become catastrophic. How long can I stay strong? Pain is meant to go away. We want to heal. And we carry through. I carry through. For a few days, a week. But when does it chip away at our every positive thought? How long can you hurt? Before you must return to everyday life with chores and expectations? How long can you be graceful? A week? Two?

Mine is six weeks. Six weeks and I hit a wall. Big wall. A wall that taunts me. I have gone to the orthopedic specialist about my hip which is either sore or shooting pain down my leg. I feel like a pin has wedged between the bones. I am either numb, exhausted, or pushing through the pain.

I could sink like a stone. The nature of this neuropathy encourages sinking, because there is a little voice that says, this is just the beginning and it only gets worse from here.

Then I breathe.


I notice the rose blooming in our front yard.


And I giggle with my boy.


And smile with my sweet girl.

And remember that change is constant. I had an hour today where medicine gave me relief (this doesn’t always happen). And it was enough for me to gather myself together again. We will figure this out. Summer is around the corner. I have a few more crazy weeks. These days feel manic. But I also keep myself centered in the here and now. Sunshine and roses.

Blossoms and laughter. Tight hugs and sweet moments. Moments that matter beyond pain.

I won’t give up on my haunted house

I find beauty.

Over that wall

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The longer I stay away, the harder it gets to post. I fall so behind! I didn’t get to write about this.


Or this


Or this


Or this


Or even this


The story skipped Easter, our overnight trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, her Pioneer School days, and her birthday!

Oh my, this mama gets overwhelmed! I am also working on two big writing projects that I hope to share soon. And we are rehearsing for Peter Pan in class. And my calendar is filling with doctor appointments.

I have constant pain again. This time in my hip. So we are in investigaton-phase. Hopefully it’s easily fixed . That is always the hope, right?

When I stop to reflect these days, I get wildly anxious. I know I do too much. I don’t know how to slow down. I feel like this frenzy will lead to better space. But in the meantime, I don’t know how to patch myself together until I reach those calmer waters. With my husband still searching for work, I am the primary breadwinner in the family. That feels plain wrong, since I am on disability. But it’s true. So all of my choices carry big consequences.

If downtime felt indulgent before, it’s guilt-ridden now. Any quiet is crowded with chores, creative projects, and helping my daughter with her reading. I have no space for healing. For recharging. It’s a crash-and-burn pace. I know it. And I don’t know how to change it.

Only a month before summer, hurrah! Summer is usually a great time for me. Turning off wake-up alarms is healthy

Meanwhile, May will be insane. No off-days. Tomorrow is full with my side-projects.

In June I get to breathe easier. Until then, I will try not to drop our story again. Short and sweet is better than silent

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The annual Easter Egg decorating this year!

Ian realized that wrapping them in a napkin gave them cool texture and colors

Ian called the pink RED and really stuck with a theme for his eggs this year . Anika’s eggs got the other colors.

Of course we needed the traditional zombie egg!  Every year one cracks when boiling and makes a perfect nasty zombie egg

Wishing you a very happy holiday!  This Easter Bunny has got to scamper off and get busy filling baskets

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Exciting times during spring break around here

Cat naps

Building train tracks

Laughing at Mama

Still the cat naps

Waking up?

Maybe . . .

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He chose her. She chose him. It’s a lovely thing, a girl and her cat.

A few weeks ago, as the whole story of her learning challenges sank deep, we wanted to give her inspiration. We searched for a companion cat online. Every kitten that we adored would be adopted just before we called, or would have health challenges, or would be unsuitable for a home with children. Each time she was disappointed. I told her that animals choose us, too. They find a way to be with us. So this weekend we took a chance and visited the Sacramento Save our Shelter.

We visited with many cats. Shy cats. Big cats. Furry cats. Cats who climbed the walls to get away from Ian (poor cat- we didn’t stay long). We met up with an awesome volunteer who didn’t give up. We didn’t require a tiny kitten. Just a young cat that was friendly and enjoyed playing. Anika shared with our helper about her dyslexia and the volunteer shared that she had Aspergers. Power to the different!

The volunteer had the idea that Ian and I could stay with a few cats while Anika and Giovanni met others without a crazy little brother underfoot. I was ready to talk Anika into another visit, another day, by that point.

So I I surprised when they returned with paperwork for Flash. This year-old boy was calm and sweet, playful and safe. The perfect cat. Anika renamed him Tiger.

He is settling into his new home. He was taken from an abandoned house. He spooks with loud noises and it will take time to build trust. But he’s also super-cuddly and gentle with the kids. We all lucked out. How wonderful to be chosen

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Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!
Henry David Thoreau

Some paths we choose.

Other paths are chosen for us.

Her handfuls of stones are for tossing into the creek. They seem a fitting image for the story she carries to school each day.  A balancing, a weight, and, hopefully, a successful adventure in the end.

Last week, I was picking her up when I heard results of recent testing.  Long time readers may remember My Daughter, Learning to Learn.  Last year we discovered that she has troubles processing sounds, an Auditory Processing Disorder.  She recevies extra help at school and I work with her a lot.  We spent this year focusing on phonetic structures.  How sounds feel when we say them, how they link together and come apart.  And she is making progress.  Not at the same rate as her peers, but still.  A couple of weeks ago she read the Cat in the Hat (a few pages) and was incredibly proud of herself.

At the same time, she’s tired.  She comes home from school exhausted most days.  Homework is a stretch of patience and stamina.  We supplement with games and practice on the iPad, but she will give me that look, the one saying, “I am spent. Is there really more?”  And she’s aware that her friends are moving faster quicker.  She has an amazing teacher and the school is completely supportive.  She is getting help, but she has not had a formal assessment.  Until last month.

“She’s has all the classic markers,” our specialist said.  I teach at the school so she and I share ideas outside the formal meetings.  ”First of all, your girl is so smart!”

I knew, of course I knew.  It was still gratifying to hear.

“She sees big concepts and her visual memory is very strong.  She is very bright.”

Which is nice to hear from others when you work with a struggling child.  I see her light and hear her stories.  I want that celebrated and not lost under the learning challenges.

“She has dyslexia.”

Oh.  I assumed that the specialist was going to share the Auditory Processing, not open a whole new path through the forest.  I took the news in stride.  They are connected.  The left side of my girl’s brain is not doing its job.  For some unknown reason, tasks have been reassigned to the right side of the brain.  So she sees logic and big ideas.  She adores storytelling and creative thinking.  And, yet, written language is a muddled mess.  Sounds and symbols are a constantly shifting quagmire.

I have been reading about Dyslexia since then and I’m getting a better picture of the world through my daughter’s eyes.  Luckily, she has been held with such confidence and support that her self-esteem remains strong (mostly).  We have a meeting at the end of the month to gather our ideas and make goals.  She will officially become a Special Education student.  A girl with a Learning Disability.

I celebrate the different-thinkers.  I celebrate the new ideas.  I celebrate the hidden beauty in tangled paths.  And I will help her along this journey.  She has a very strong support network.  I will keep the story going here, along with ideas that work (or don’t work).  Right now, we’ve already switched homework so she does the bulk of it on the weekend.  She said yesterday that it was easier to finish on a weekend-day.  She wasn’t so tired.

I was glad, really, getting a diagnosis.

My relief may sound strange.  As anyone with a disability knows, though, information is everything.  Getting the label means getting the help.  And that is all good.  The underlying challenges are there, whether you have a diagnosis or not.  This way, we can get her help and accommodations.  Because she shines.

She will blaze her own path

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Sunday we went to the big Mardi Gras Parade in Nevada City.  We lucked out with parking.  We met with family to cheer for horse carriages, old cars, and lots and lots of beads.

We were woefully unprepared with costumes (oops) but my family had great masks to share.

Ian wasn’t sure about the big crowds and loud noises.  He needed reassurance from sister.  This is fun, right?

Nevada City hosts the best small-town parades!  Behind the old fire truck is the Nevada Theater, one of the oldest theaters in the west.  I think Mark Twain once performed there.  Like me .  I was a townsfolk in Romeo and Juliet my senior year of high school.  Lots of history

Like I said, my family brought great masks.  Next year I’ll know better

Anika caught lots of beads.  She gave all of the red/orange beads to Ian.  Because that’s the kind of sister she is

Ian’s favorite colors are orange and red.  He was thrilled with his collection.

Grabbing for the camera, again

The scene street-side.  I’m not sure who she is, but I loved the sun on her hands.  She caught plenty

Lots of motorbikes.  Masked bikers.  These two made their statement with Anonymous masks.

Mila watched the parade from her dad’s shoulders for awhile.  The sun and breeze caught her perfectly.  

The parade had plenty of drama.  Fire from a hot air balloon basket.  Not sure what their group was called.  Not sure it matters.  Fire is cool

And many protest floats, like this one from the local Occupy group.  Speaking for the 99%.

Nevada City was packed!  The weather was gorgeous!  Couldn’t ask for a better parade.

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Yesterday we spent hours at Petco for the Rabbit Rally. Anika is part of the local 4H group, and they all brought rabbits to share with the public. Anika took her role as rabbit-mentor very seriously.

Pumpkin was very patient with all of the attention.

My mom also returned from her three week trip to Hawaii, so we slipped away from the Rabbit Rally for a little treat. And Ian decided that was a cosy place to nap

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Still, he looks rather peaceful close-up.

Mom had great adventures in Hawaii. It got me thinking about climate and my recent medication headaches and how I would feel so much better without the cold winters. Part of me wanted to run away, but I couldn’t work in any traditional jobs and my disability benefits are not very high. I even looked into housing subsidized for people with disabilities, but the screenshots didn’t look like pleasant parts of town. Besides, I love my extended family way too much to run off to an island. Still, how much is good health worth?

An interesting idea

The rest of our week was fairly quiet since Ian got sick with a cough and fever. I spent two whole days on the couch binging on Xbox games with him. Poor baby. He’s back to wild, loud, busy child now.

Spring arrived this week. Very strange since I call this the Winter that Wasn’t. Only a few storms and snowflakes.

The blossoms don’t care. They feel the warmth and they bloom. So I leave you with sunshine and color. That hopefully lasts through the week.

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Ian decided to play for the camera. Getting close was a great game. I love how the frame cannot contain him.

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The weather was lovely this weekend. A glimpse of spring. Anika invited a friend to play and we set up for a tea party!

The goodies did not last long.  By the time I returned with the camera, the scones and mini-cookies were already gone.  Most of the cheese, crackers, and turkey sandwiches had disappeared, too.

The plates were drawn by Ian and Anika over the years. I made the flame blanket/tablecloth before Ian was born.  Perfect tea party decoration

The kids poured their own tea, which was a lesson in itself about letting the leaves steep. And be careful of hot pots.

Enjoying the good stuff.  Sugar is in the little bowl next to her plate.  We made the little bowls in ceramics class a couple of years ago.  We found the tiny spoons this morning in a kitchen supply store.  There’s a magic in adding your own sugar to your own tea.

Very Alice in Wonderland

We hung the canopy from the summer awning and the ribbons caught in the breeze.  We learned about flexibility because the first plan was to eat in the canopy.  But they couldn’t all fit.  So they ate beside it instead.  And read books on a blanket in the fairy house.

A happy day.  Love the faces covered with crumbs.

Anika beaded this heart when she was a student in my class.  Love and beauty and magical rainbows.

Shining your way.  Hope you have a reason or two to host a tea party

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