I received news yesterday of a rather depressing nature. A good friend of mine, currently living in Manila and working for the Peace Corps, lost her dad in a car accident Tuesday. I'm going to the funeral today, and it's left me thinking about my own experience burying my dad 12 years ago.

It's hard to believe it has been that long and that the loss can still be so close to the surface after all this time. I've decided that you never really fully recover from tragic loss...especially when you loss a close loved one. I feel like there should be a whole category of people who are the walking wounded. We learn how to move on, but we never really heal. We grow and change around the damage, but it remains an inescapable and undeniable piece of who we are. It may rarely be spoken of as time moves on, but in a moment we can be right back in that place reliving the clear and sharp memory of the day we lost someone important to us. No one can really understand if they've never experienced it for themselves, but we are sort of "related" to those who have. It's instant common ground found in shared experience. It's an irrevocable alteration to the very core of our lives and the grieving never seems to really end. Instead, it seems to just lay dormant for awhile waiting for a birthday, anniversary, important life event, or just a rainy day to resurface. We get used to dealing with it and aren't blind-sided by it anymore, and to the outside world, it appears that all is well. It's really an interesting situation.

Anyway, my heart is heavy for my friend. I know better than most what it is like to lose my father. I cannot imagine dealing with that loss and being a world away from my family. Being the counselor that I am, I want to help ease the pain, but I am fully aware that there isn't anything one person can do to make these situations better. They must work it out for themselves in their way just like I had to do. All I can do is be available with open arms and a ready ear putting my own feelings aside for the moment to help carry another's burden.


Greeting from Ireland! I'm sitting in a lovely little B & B in Trim, Ireland as the sunsets outside the widow on Trim Castle. Ah...

I'm completely in love with Wales and Ireland. Wales is beautiful, but Ireland has captured my heart. All except for the blind corners on tiny unmarked roads which continue to cause my life flash before my eyes with a steady stream of near death experiences...but it smells really good here!!! The combination of pine and heather is severely intoxicating.

I'll post some pics once I get back to the USA. I think I'll be sad to leave two of the most beautiful countries I've ever been in.

And is case you were wondering...Irish Guinness does in fact taste much better than American Guinness. And that, my friends, is very good news indeed.


I LOVE summer time. No work. No children. No drama...as far as middle school goes. It is pretty awesome.

I also love foamy soap, but that's a topic for a different blog.

More to come on the foamy soap issue, and why it's pretty much the greatest invention in the last 50 years.

Peace. Out.

I wrote all that and then was so gently reminded by my friend, Amy, that I will have to work with small children Wednesday and Thursday and that I've been surrounded by 2 year old drama since Sunday night. My work is never done.

BUT foamy soap is abundant so all is well with the world.



why isn't school over yet?!?!?!?!


This is my adorable nephew, Brinson, when he was just about an hour old. So cute!


okay, emily. i know i promised a post a million and a half years ago, but i've completely forgotten what i was going to post. nice. so here's something.

i'm writing this from the hospital labor and delivery waiting area about to become an aunt. yeah!
i'm off work for 3 days. wahoo!
and last but certainly not least...

I LOVE FOAMING SOAP! it is arguably the best invention in the last 50 years. go foamie soap. go with your bad self.


waiting for something to happen while resisting the urge to make something happen is difficult and exhausting. alas. what's a girl to do...