The Scampering Horse

Gosh I love the Olympics. Right now it is the Winter Olympics. So much snow, and ice, and lycra. I love it for words like "twizzle." I love it for the speed, the beauty, the competition. There is something kind of wonderful about watching countries who have been at war with each other competing peacefully in a global arena. I don't usually have cable, so I am like a kid who doesn't get candy and then goes to my friend's house, and they have candy, so I eat it all. I've been sucked into a black hole of live entertainment. I watch the skaters diligently. The commentators, Tara Lapinski and Johnny Weir, are basically my best friends. We talk about what the ladies are putting down on the ice, and Johnny gives me style advice. There are a lot of things I love about figure skating. I love that it is a miracle.  Walking on water. I've tried ice skating twice, and it is impossible. It is against physical laws to balance on those things they call s

Snow isn't my thing.  In my homeland snow=cold mud.  I was raised in Milan, New Mexico. It is super exotic. I grew up right next to a train track, and a mesa. My neighbors were City Glass, Village Pottery, and the Allsup's across the street. Fancy shmancy. The thing that defined my landscape was dirt. And rocks. And gravel. And dirt.  New Mexico isn't known for our snow. At least not the part I grew up in. We were known more for our prisons. We had four of them of varying variety and severeness. When it did snow we usually had two hour delays. And sometimes it meant snow days. That meant no school. On these days my older brother Clifton would go outside and scoop up a bunch of snow in a plastic pitcher. He would make vanilla snow-ice cream, which is delicious. He would divy the goodness out to each of us in the bottom of a cup. Mmmmmm. Snow ice-cream.  Snow clothes have come a long way in one generation. After that nutritious breakfast, we would don our

My kids are cute. Really, really cute. But, this isn't about that. This is about things. In our recent move, we put most of our possessions in storage, and we are living out of the things I chose to fit in my van. During the frantic house projects, I gave myself a day to pack for the move from New Mexico to Nebraska. Movers came and  packed everything into boxes, then loaders came and loaded the boxes onto a gigantic truck. Packed away is our piano, art supplies, most clothes, most shoes, pots and pans, books, bikes, furniture. My super cute kids kept their new Razor scooters out. Smart choice children. They were the big Christmas gift for my two older girls, and they love those things. I had very specific criteria in choosing what to bring with us. In order to be packed in the van the items needed to be small, useful, and the biggest thing-I had to think of them. It is funny the things I didn't think of setting aside, like some yarn and crotchet hooks. I should hav