take me anywhere

take me anywhere's book montage

A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose
The Cinnamon Peeler: Selected Poems
Philadelphia, Here I Come! : A Comedy in Three Acts
The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down
The Lost Salt Gift of Blood
Imagining Argentina
A Year Without "Made in China": One Family's True Life Adventure in the Global Economy
The End of America: A Letter of Warning To A Young Patriot
Where the Sidewalk Ends
Amongst Women
Church of the Dog
Charming Billy
Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace... One School at a Time
The Birth House
The Poisonwood Bible
Catching Fire
The Hunger Games

take me anywhere's favorite books »

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

pump-ed up-kins

pumpkin pitch zuchinni car
pumpkin wheelies. let the race begin!
soaking in the sun
massive fire truck wheel

                           gabe's first grade field trip to schuh farms

the perfect pumpkin

                                                  farm truck driving
my favorite gourds and my favorite gabe
                                                     corn fed chickens
                                        friends at the farm (house)
love this sky blue truck. it's a permanent fixture.
on top of the world (really just the work truck but just as good)

Tuesday, October 30, 2012


we have fallen hard from our safe, family summer nest into the next (not the spring of learning to fly) season but one where it is bright because of orange-red pumpkins and golden leaves that normally make me smile. who says you can't fly in autumn?  i have been the one to try to control (which goes against the nature of life) and fix EVERYTHING since camille started preschool at clear lake when she was 4. i cannot predict the punches and set up blockades, even though i gave my heart and fists.  she had regressed severely. not eating, not sleeping, vomiting into her hands while walking, on her classroom desk...not functioning.

we had made a decision. camille was going to lyman to be with brett. my role in her anxiety was changing and it hit as i stood at the window that sunday morning staring at my katsura with its luminous leaves and whimsical branches. i wasn't ready for the leaves to be wind-torn. i wasn't ready (even though nothing could get worse and everything only better) for the leaves to go. i was fighting change with a hatchet and shovel (can you tell we have been digging up a clothesline bearing concrete from the ground?)  tears from years of energy spent fixing every unexpected moment jackhammered my body. for hours. then, i realized my role needed to be redefined.  free.