tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79665734647434516992023-11-16T09:21:11.172-07:00mostly marthaMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.comBlogger613125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-29787785562558615022011-10-16T15:19:00.016-07:002011-10-16T19:25:45.808-07:00Fall at The LotI spent two nights at the cabin this week, which hasn't happened in a long while. Friday, I was with my family. Every year I think it can't possibly be more beautiful than the last.But the sky turns an indescribable shade of blue on a Saturday morning. And the aspen trees mingle with the evergreens above the sagebrush, the combination of which takes your breath away.It's especially fun when weMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-32945018502671298052011-10-05T22:53:00.003-07:002011-10-09T18:57:28.983-07:00grace from a bottleIt's the first day of fall. Not officially, but it's the first day I don't grab an extra layer just in case, I actually plan to wear one. Along 19th, leaves pool in the gutter. They are the brave ones. The early birds, the ones not afraid to let go. Floating down like feathers, they land on top of one another forming a brilliant puddle of orange. They'll stay that way until the rain Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-44295348339411224462011-09-12T21:32:00.009-07:002011-09-13T10:01:45.312-07:00begin againThis morning when I went out to get the paper, it smelled like fall. I hugged the yellow plastic bag to my chest like a hot water bottle. Filled with tiny type, it kept me warm on the short jaunt from front lawn to back door. It was the pleasant kind of cold. The put-on-your-favorite-sweatshirt cold. So I did. I came inside, put on my blue hoodie from Annie B, and ate oatmeal standing up Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-89823289921496134052011-09-12T12:02:00.007-07:002011-09-12T12:19:45.982-07:00ink + paper It's really fun to have talented friends. Especially when they bring you surprises, just because it's a Wednesday. And not just any surprise, but ones like these that you put up and stare at everyday.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-32304042757324047492011-09-11T14:55:00.001-07:002011-09-11T19:02:09.542-07:009|11President Thomas S. Monson's thoughts on 9|11, taken from this article."There was, as many have noted, a remarkable surge of faith following the tragedy. People across the United States rediscovered the need for God and turned to Him for solace and understanding. Comfortable times were shattered. We felt the great unsteadiness of life and reached for the great steadiness of our Father in Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-47932604678166709462011-09-09T09:44:00.015-07:002011-09-19T17:10:13.135-07:00Lord, what fools these mortals beWe are tiny. Mortals next to majesty. Rocks reach as high as God. They are temples, made sacred by the holy waters of history: tears that left scars on the surface.Green pushes up, strong against rock, defying desert, clinging to a craggy stone front, like a child to its mother.Sand and sage. Red clay. Blue sky. Stillness.Every panorama a painting. Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-45611684018338371662011-08-25T20:38:00.004-07:002011-09-09T14:24:43.396-07:00pommeShe loved a boy once, but that was a long time ago. She loved his blueberry pancakes and the way he forgot to dot his "I's". That he'd bring her an apple and leave it on her desk in the studio. No note, just an apple, but she knew it was him.He is gone now, but she thinks about him every so often. Like when summer turns to autumn and when the first snow falls. Or when she eats really great Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-9698576470613809922011-08-07T12:18:00.008-07:002011-08-07T19:32:50.153-07:00Baby NUntil my sister tells me to do otherwise, I will shamelessly post pictures of my niece on this blog like she is my own child. She's kind of my favorite. (All of these images are owned by the photographer and are therefore copyrighted.)Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-14973371064880690722011-08-02T21:39:00.000-07:002011-10-16T15:19:29.797-07:00red like poppies @font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } His hair was gray and he had a stubborn cowlick he’d given up on. The freckles on his forehead had turned to age spots and between the wrinkles around his eyes were untold stories. On his left Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-81816572462422980232011-08-01T17:01:00.016-07:002011-08-08T14:05:10.376-07:00work: in-progress
I'm not very good about taking pictures for work. I'm trying to be better.
I have loved working with both the client and the architect on this project.
One of the things I love about this house is the view from the front entry. Every time I walk in, I am so pleased by the symmetry in both directions.
There are lots of interesting architectural details: columns, built-ins, box beams, Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-72838792539027893402011-07-31T21:37:00.006-07:002011-09-10T13:06:28.861-07:00Summer so farThe Capitol at sunset, D.C. June 2011It's impossible to catch up on the past few months. Here are a few high points: Baby N is walking. The house is moving along. We stayed in the Uinta's, rode horses, and played in the mud. (It took three runs through a professional car wash to get all the red mud off. Well worth it, I say.) There's a new swing in the backyard. We had our first sister's Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-38015342731093335832011-07-28T22:11:00.000-07:002011-07-31T22:16:28.444-07:00Bon to BobTonight I was using the computer at my parent's. I put iTunes on shuffle while I sent a few emails. It went from Bon Iver to Bob Dylan's "Must be Santa" and all of a sudden I missed my brother like crazy.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-67940097800062759662011-07-24T20:51:00.003-07:002011-08-30T10:33:14.941-07:00Nocturne in E Flat Major
He asked me to pick my very favorite. There were hundreds, only a few I'd ever seen, and never in person. On round two, I settled on a fairly predictable landscape. He chose a less traditional piece, unusual for the artist. Let's go back and visit yours before we leave, he said.
At dinner he asked me about writing and architecture. On the way home, we listened to Chopin's Nocturnes. They Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-25617067342758201592011-05-05T18:13:00.001-07:002011-05-05T18:13:49.892-07:00Nothing touches the soul but leaves its impress, and thus, little by little, we are fashioned into the image of all we have seen and heard, known and meditated; and if we learn to live with all that is fairest and purest and best, the love of it all will in the end become our very life. - Grenville Kleiser Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-56319630980521341852011-04-30T11:27:00.012-07:002011-05-10T08:14:38.910-07:00the one with the bridgeGreat things happen at the Market Street Grill. The one with the bridge across the creek. Like the time we saw someone famous in the lobby. We joked about going up and introducing ourselves, but he was out the revolving door before we mustered up enough courage to do anything about it. We trotted across the bridge (you have to trot, or run; it's so much better that way) and found the Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-22852055932185030022011-04-27T15:00:00.002-07:002011-08-07T12:26:30.190-07:00rub-a-dubbaMy parents say each grandchild will be as anticipated and loved and adored as this one. I'm not sure that's possible. Just look at that face!Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-42841127404839863112011-04-26T19:21:00.013-07:002011-04-27T09:57:54.850-07:00back from a stay at the seawith this out our window{and the sound of the fountain at night as we fell asleep}a visit to the flower fieldsand sunsets like this:The sea is just a wetter version of the sky.|Regina Spektor|Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-43799546309356743412011-04-18T09:11:00.008-07:002011-04-30T13:33:44.698-07:00take a sad song and make it better*Warning: The following post may make tears flow like spring rain (or snow, in Utah).In a series of unfortunate and unpreventable events (dead branch, splitting wood, weak rope) the backyard swing was removed -- for safety reasons -- and we are sad. Dad has promised to replace it with something equally as nostalgic. Soon. Until then, we have pictures and warm memories. (We may or may not be Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-88337321924988740222011-04-12T21:59:00.004-07:002011-04-18T10:58:04.598-07:00Only in UtahA few weeks ago, my Dad sent us a forward titled, Only in Utah. It was a fairly lame list compiled by Jeff Foxworthy; a bunch of You-Know-You're-in-Utah-When scenarios about speed limits, hitting deer, how everyone in Utah leaves their houses unlocked, etc. I read it and deleted it. (Mostly because I hate forwards.)It snowed this morning. When I heard music from the ice cream truck in the Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-13771130405495656872011-04-11T11:43:00.011-07:002011-04-17T10:37:25.517-07:00Bad NewsMonday is the day we get emails from my brother. We sit around all morning with our computers or phones waiting waiting waiting. I usually write Sunday night, summing up my week, telling him about the goings on back here at home, and sometimes I have to be the bearer of bad news. Like this week. This is what I said:One of your IKEA bamboo stalks has gone the way of all the earth. Dad had to Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-948632023326587902011-04-10T20:04:00.010-07:002011-04-30T12:09:01.557-07:00long wordsSaturday I spent time preparing for a lesson I gave today. I pulled out boxes from under my bed and old journals off the shelves with doodles in the margins and notes tucked inside. I spent a good hour reading. Much of what I read were records of college days when life was fairly routine and academic: français, color theory boards. An observational drawing class taught by a German professor IMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-68101451150135528342011-04-10T14:34:00.007-07:002011-04-10T14:42:32.699-07:00Why I will never own a Kindle ......and why I would live in a cardboard box--without furniture--as long as it was filled with books and great art."There is something almost sacred about a great library because it represents the preservation of the wisdom, the learning, and the pondering of men and women of all the ages, accumulated under one roof. I love books. There is something wonderful about a book. We can pick it up.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-36945980387937412992011-03-28T11:04:00.010-07:002011-08-07T12:30:58.919-07:00the brownies just weren't as RichYesterday I made my brother's famous brownies for company. Those familiar with his famous brownies agreed they just weren't the same. I followed the recipe exactly. I wonder what his secret is.Speaking of my bro, we posted a video for him here, but I think everyone should see it. Count it as your daily dose of cuteness. Who doesn't need more of that?**Three seconds in is my very most Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-3587703191216914702011-03-28T09:15:00.007-07:002011-04-30T14:19:19.765-07:00test pots and paint brushesI spent Friday with the architect of a house we're working on. We spend lots of Fridays together, which is really delightful, actually. (Mostly because she's delightful and I admire her work very much.) This past Friday we were determined to nail down paint colors for each room in the house so we can get going on fabric and furniture. The colors are so soft and lovely--like they were pulled Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966573464743451699.post-29177860647372492332011-03-21T15:08:00.012-07:002011-04-18T10:59:51.125-07:00God Likes Broken ThingsAt church someone said, God likes broken things, And, Have we ever thought about that?Heavy clouds gather in a dark sky after days of drought. They break over the dusty soil and drop rain. Broken grain makes wheat to feed hungry bellies. A mother's water breaks so a child can enter the world.I spent the afternoon thinking of broken hearts and contrite spirits. How we're most teachable when Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477527757350586034noreply@blogger.com4