Addicted to cereal?

I was talking to someone the other day, and they mentioned a friend who was a cereal addict. I know there are definitely worse things to be addicted to, but it made me start to wonder how we get addicted to things. I, myself, have an addiction to salt, often in the form of chips. Give me salt any day over sugar. If you really want to make my day, give me a mixture of both, a little salt, then something sugary, back to salt, and so on.

But, back to the cereal addict. See I know what it is like to be a cereal addict. I live with one. The addict in him shows up often around 11 pm, just before bed. He is a midnight snack cereal user. The only other time the addict might be found is if he is still hungry after dinner. He is good though, mostly his guilty pleasure is for fairly healthy, only slightly sugary cereals. However, offer him a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and he is a goner. Yuck. Cap’n Crunch and Froot Loops leave this film and raw burn on the roof of your mouth.

Now that I am a serial green smoothie drinker, I no longer have cereal for breakfast. I am only known to steal a bite or two from the cereal midnight snacker. All I need is a bite to quench my craving for that sweet milky taste. I have friends who are cereal addicts. I have never asked them why cereal is their guilty pleasure. Now I am curious. A few years ago, we had the opportunity to visit and tour Pixar, and I had to remove my significant other from the “Cereal Bar.” The below video is one that gives a bit more detail about the Pixar Cereal Bar.

It is all about moments…

Recently I came across this quote from Nicholas Sparks:

“And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love.”

It made me think about how often we get sucked into life, into work, into our day-to-day to-do lists. There is always so much to do, each hour, each day. Yet, I feel I have to constantly remind myself to slow down, to breathe, to take a moment to smell the fresh, beautiful, summer air. What came to me yesterday is that we all need to be more childlike. A child goes into each day, each playful moment as if it was brand new. What if we did the same thing?

I think we would find that we get less sucked into the things that waste our time. The drama and moments of negativity. We would be more aware of those conversations that do not serve us, we would walk away, or call folks out on their negativity. Kids do it all the time. They walk away. They are drawn to happiness, to individuals that make them feel comfortable. What if you removed yourself from moments that did not inspire you? Moments that brought you down? Would that change your day?

I think it is worth trying.

Proud to be free

Independence Day brings a song to my thought and an image of my dad singing along. It brings tears to my eyes, because as much as my father had his crazy differences with the world and sometimes the government, that man was patriotic, and he loved his country.

Every Fourth of July we would get together as a family and usually go to the local reservoir, have a picnic, or BBQ, play games outside and wait for it to get dark to watch the fireworks. I never got into the thrill of fireworks. While I have seen some amazing firework displays in Michigan, Boston, and Hawaii, I never got crazy excited about them. I mean, as a little kid, sparklers scared me. I always felt my hand was going to catch on fire.

I digress. The song that makes me think of my dad. It is not America the Beautiful, or the National Anthem that reminds me of Independence Day, it is Lee Greenwood’s “Proud to be an American.” I can picture the emotion in my dad’s face whenever that song came on the radio, so much so that when I hear it I cannot control the tears that come to my eyes. It makes me proud to know that his emotion was shared with me.

Whether you are watching fireworks on the Charles River Esplanade while listening to the Boston Pops, or are on a boat on a lake in the middle of our country, at the Capitol lawn in Washington, D.C. or camping at one of our national parks on Thursday, or comfortable at home on your patio, I hope you take a moment to   enjoy your family, friends, and be grateful to all the men and women who have fought and defended our country and given us incredible freedoms.

Take a moment to think about all the ways you are free.

I feel like I am making a cameo in Caddyshack

Moles, moles, moles. Poopy little suckers. Over the past few months we have found more and more ground upheaved from the likes of our neighborhood mole. I hope they do not just live in our yard! Not a fan of them, but we have not done anything about them. Mostly just pat down where they have burrowed through. For the most part they have stayed in our garden area and not torn up our lawn (knock on wood).

Sunday we spent some time doing work in our yard. We are taking out a section of weeding grass near our sidewalk and putting in rocks and plants. This way it hopefully looks nice from the curb and the weedy grass will not come back. It will also make it easier to keep clean when all the leaves start to come down this fall. After a long day in the sun, we went out to run some errands. When we returned home, we found just next to our grass a brand new mole excavation. Less than 2 hours fresh. Wish I could have a sonar to try to find those little buggers.

Last night I spent some time researching how to get rid of them, with boring results. I started having flashbacks to my childhood watching Caddyshack. What contraption would I put together to hunt them down and remove them from my yard? I do not think I have the patience.

Anyone out there know a good way to get rid of moles?

#Ineedmolehelp

Memories of creativity?

Do you remember that first childhood moment when you felt creative? I remember the house I grew up in often had many projects in differing states of completion. It might have been an art project, or learning to bake something in the kitchen, or my mom was canning, or my sister was singing, you name it. At the time I did not know that the different creative projects I did as a kid with my mom or sister would be something I would want to continue doing as I grew into adulthood. Looking back, I am grateful that I grew up in a home that cultivated creativity, as that is now the thread that weaves itself throughout my life.

my first Batik

my first Batik

I distinctly remember doing batik at home with my mom. I do not know if I learned how to do it at school and then wanted to do it at home, or vice versa. After purchasing some Rit dye, in the range of navy and cobalt blue, some muslim fabric, and wax we were in business. I will not bore you with the step-by-step details, but after melting the wax, I painted it on in the pattern I wanted to stay the creme muslim color. Once that was complete we dyed the fabric and I had my batik artwork. I believe we stretched the final piece around cardboard. If I were doing it today, I would probably stretch it around a wood frame or pressed board for durability.

Maybe it was because we did not have a television growing up, but I found that my free hours would be spent with creative art projects (oh and of course reading). Eventually, in elementary school, I applied and submitted a portfolio to be apart of a Gifted and Talent art class. If I remember correctly, the class met after school. I was accepted and so thrilled. I loved the different projects I got to do as part of that class. I also remember really enjoying drawing. In one art class we learned to draw upside down. See link for the famous Pablo Picasso drawing that we used to learn this technique. Does this image look familiar? Did you learn a similar technique?

I am a strong proponent of exposing kids to all types of creative activities. Even if they do not become artists; the problem solving skills, willingness to try new things, and the potential confidence they learn, it is worth it. Maybe in the end they do become artists.

Were you a creative kid? If so, what were your earliest memories of being creative?