fiance, student, homeschool retiree, preschool teacher wannabe, Senior Living Coordinator, writer of many things unsaid, blogger, lover of the creative, most cheerful depressed person, devourer of books, crafty wanna be, amateur tech support, internet junkie, facebook stalker, tweeter of tweets, Pagan, friend, sister, daughter, aunt, karaoke super-star

A little bit crafty...

So I am so not the craftiest of the crafty...but I was very proud of my newest quicky project. The new framed monogram I made now hangs in the living room on this weird wall near the thermostat.

A cool shaped old frame (99 cents at thrift store)
A little American Accent Canyon Black spray paint (Love that stuff!)
A darling black letter M from Craft Warehouse
A few nails
A hammer
Oh! And a level-no crooked letter M's in this house
and Wallah!!

Brillant! Right?

Family Game Night

“It is in games that many men discover their paradise.” 
-Robert Lynd

First Pokemon Tournament

Today was Josef's first Pokemon Tournament. Ian signed up too with a borrowed deck.
Josef won 2 games and lost 2 games. Ian won one game and lost 3. They both were 8th place in their divisions. there were 10-15 kids in each division.

Pokemon-for The Young......and the Old


Elderly Couple with Dog - Piazza Navona
Photographic Print
by A. Phillips


Like peering into some 5th grade Diorama
The house lit up like a Jack-O-lantern
Smiling at the night
In one window
The old man sits in his chair watching TV
In another window
The old lady is at the sink washing dishes
Between them- the years
The years have settled in
The good ones, the bad ones
Love went from boiling
To simmering
To a stagnate pot of water
Forgotten on the stove
And yet there is warmth there
An assurance
That in one window
At 8 pm he will still be sitting in that chair
Watching the TV
In another window
She will be at the kitchen sink
Washing dishes
The Routine
At 9pm she will appear in his window
Gently nudge him awake
She will take his hand and help him from the chair
And together they will walk upstairs
Lay down in the bed they have always shared
Nestle into one another
And sleep
The way they have for 45 years
The comfort, the routine, the assurance
Are the harvest of true love

~April Mitchell

Give Me Rest

Give me Rest

O come to me blessed sleep
Send your languid breath of dream
To drown my weary head
Carry me to other shores
The comfort of my soul to keep
Far from the pain of this day

April M Mitchell

5 Answers

5 Answers

Aren't we all looking for answers?
Answers to the most pressing of life's mysteries:
Maybe, If your lucky
Anythings possible
Go ask mom

~April M Mitchell


Coffee Shop Experiences

Dear cute tutor guy at the coffee shop,
I was just there to pick up my son from Pokemon League. Our meetings seemed like a sort of steamed milk fantasy, but then went sour. I appreciate the lovely eye contact given to me twice and especially the smile. It was a huge boost to the ego of this 28 year old mother of four. I also appreciated your five O'clock shadow at 3pm and your rugged 30ish year old nerdy good looks.  But alas I am married. It really wouldn't have worked out anyway. You looked so bored there tutoring that poor 12 year old boy struggling in math-it was a real turn off for me. The way your demeanor just echoed- I only took this job as a tutor to help my resume look better. I'm not into guys that only help others to help themselves.

Baby Danielle- A work in progress

This story is unfinished. It was part of a dream I had and needed to jot down. One of those stories that doesn't feel like my own, but someones I've been asked to tell. Feedback needed!

Ruth reached up and gently touched the aging wooden frame, peering into the faded photography. This was the only photograph of she and Danielle together, alive. It was like some black and white time machine, she was there again in that exact scene. She lay tired and happy in her Grandmothers four poster bed. The baby, Danielle, lie near her in the little cradle slowly breathing in and out. A few hours later, Danielle would be gone. Her grandmother was unable to wake the tiny baby, when she needed to be nursed. Ruth had just stared uncomprehending in her drowsy state as the baby was whisked away by a farm hand, called in from the fields. Then the tears came and she cried that whole day.

It was as if Danielle had been breathed into this world like a whisper and then faded away like she had never even been here at all. Ruth could only stare at the cradle and cry more. They hadn’t even let her say goodbye. She hadn’t gotten to hold her, just one last time. She had been passed to a farm hand and then buried promptly in the family cemetery.

The next day with her face puffy, tear stained, and pained, she listened as her mother spoke to her about how fortunate she truly was. She had been given a second chance; her mother went on to explain. No one would have to know now. They baby hadn’t even been issued a birth certificate. No dirty laundry to be aired later, her mother told her, as if Danielle was the ugliest and dirties secret capable of soiling them all. “Now stop your crying dear, you are really such a fortunate girl. So pretty, you will make a good marriage after all. “ Her mother concluded with a sigh of relief and left her.

Her mother left her in the expectation that Ruth would do as all the other women in her family have down for decades. She would have to pull herself up by her boot straps, smile, nod, and move on with dignity and grace. She felt no dignity in what had come to pass. She was hollow and empty.

She did move on or at least it seemed that way to everyone else. She carried on, returning to school, after her long visit with distant relatives. She did her chores, was polite enough to everyone. Late at night she would sneak out the back stairs, through the plowed dirt between her parent’s home and her grandmothers, to the family cemetery .The white wooden gate glowing in the moonlight at the top of the hill like some lighthouse beacon. She would place a tiny bouquet of wildflowers on the little grave, marked only with a tiny wooden cross.

There she would cry, and mourn the little baby she had once called Danielle. The baby no one wanted but her. She had loved Miles, the families cow hand, she had loved him so very much. She had wanted to run away with him, marry him, go far from this town, her family, this life. When she learned she was with child, she told him in the loft above the barn and he had fallen to his knees kissing her belly and then left. He had just left, saying it would be best for them all, he would not come back. She had to tell her mother then, she thought she would have rather leaped from the cliff high above town, but she had to tell someone. She wanted to keep the baby.

Her mother had a plan, she created while wringing her hands and pacing in the parlor that night. Danielle could stay home until she began to show, then she would go to her grandmothers next door. She would have to stay out of sight, until she carried the baby to term. They would tell everyone she had gone to help a cousin while she was expecting her first baby. After she had the baby, a hand would drive her and the baby to a nearby town. He would pay for their board on a stage coach and the baby and Ruth would come into town together. Ruth was to tell people her cousin died in childbirth and gave the baby to Ruth’s mother the closest living relative.

I haven't written today...

I had promised myself this past month that I would write everyday. That I would write something-anything!
Well I failed...because it's now 12:28 tomorrow.

So maybe if I write something very poignant it will make up for ruining my month long record. Right?

Tonight I read aloud to the boys the 6th Chapter in Mrs. Piggle Wiggle by Betty MacDonald. ( I promise this is not some sappy Mommy tale. I try to keep those sort of posts quarantined to our family blog.) It was titled The Radish Cure, about how a little girl refused to bathe. Mrs. Piggle Wiggle suggested the parents let her go unwashed until a sort of crusted soil covered her. Then they were to plant radish seeds on her body, pressing them into the soil. Well as you might guess, the seeds sprouted one day. The horrified little girl ran to show her mother, who simply began harvesting little radish from her daughters skin. Needless to say, the little girl begged to bathe after such a traumatizing event. She scrubbed herself clean in the shower for hours until she was a clean and sweet little girl again. Then she feed the radishes to her father when he came home from work. My point in telling this story is that this is how I feel about my writing sometimes.

I think about writing. I think about it in the shower and while I'm driving. I think about my characters. I think about what things they might say or how they might behave. I jot down names I hear on the TV, from signs, or overheard on the radio that might make good characters. I dwell on plots and time lines. Soon all this jotting and thinking and pondering builds up an odd crust. It begins to feel quite constraining as if the story itself might come jumping out of my belly like in Alien. So then I have to write, write is all down as it over flows out of me. Just to get it out, even if the story doesn't make sense and the plots are all wrong. I just feel SO much better having put it out there in the world, wither on paper or screen. It wasn't pain free, more like giving birth than anything else I've ever experienced. Just as the little girl in the Radish Cure, grossly I might add, feeds the radishes to her father. I then feed you the unsuspecting reader my mental vomit in the form of words.

Fire Safety Field Trip

The Charter school we are a part of IDEA arranged a fire safety fieldtrip for the elementary aged children at the Meridian Fire Safety Center. Kaleb, Ian and I went on the field trip. They learned about various fire safety skills. They participated in a reenactment of a fire escape, that included feeling for a hot door, crawling low below the smoke and escaping from a bedroom filled with real (special effect) smoke. They even got to call 911 and speak to an operator. Then the big engine rolled up and they got a grand tour.

Love One Another

"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another" - John 13:34-35

Sometimes God speaks to my heart, not in some booming voice, or even a fluttering spiritual whisper, but through the world around me. Lately, through tv, the radio, songs, magazines, books, and others around me-I am picking up a clear message about judgment. We are not asked to judge, merely to love.

I often find myself thinking,That person has choosen a bad life. It's really all their fault they are in the situation they are in and having the trials they face. It's so easy to discount them as people, to minimize them, and categorize them into a little box marked JUDGED AND FOUND WANTING.
The truth of it is we are all children of God. The THEY's in our life deserve just as much as any of us do. We all deserve all the blessings of heaven, in spite of who we are, what we have done, where we live and what we believe. We are not asked to judge one another, only to love.

I was visiting my sister and we bumped into a friend of hers. He was leading a less than desirable lifestyle. As I stood their while they talked and caught up with one another, he suddenly turned to me. In the most humblest of voices he said, "Please,Don't judge me." I was totally taken aback. I hadn't said a word. I really hadn't thought I was judging him. Then after thinking on it, I had judged him after all. I had felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was so weak and in that single judging thought I had failed to love him.

The most we can do for one another, is to love one another. Loving one another is so simple, so profound, and so very hard to do sometimes. We are not somehow tainted by one another. If we reached out and touched someone, just to love them, we ourselves would not be infected by their life. We must not let Satan's most powerful tool, fear, prevent us from fulfilling such a simple commandment. A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.

Kaleb's 5 Sense's

Somethings Gotta Give

Something’s Gotta Give
April M Mitchell
July 8th, 2009 from journal

You know those times in your life when you can feel that you are on the cusp of change. The feeling that at any moment, everything will turn upside down and you won’t even recognize your own life. This feeling hangs over you like some dark cloud about to burst forth with rain.
I get anxiety from change. Sometimes the anxiety helps me cope better when the change comes. Most often though it just adds to the overall sense of doom. Not that all change is bad, but in my experience nine times out of ten, it isn’t good either.
So what’s a girl to do with a dark cloud of change about to drown her in a healthy dose of dread. Well, something’s gotta give and it usually isn’t what’s about to change.
We’ve got to learn to be more flexible, to bend and twist to accommodate all the change in life. There is certainly no short supply of it. So the next time you feel that black rain cloud of change overhead. Remember…something’s gotta give and it’s usually you!


It is quiet
I can hear my soul
Trying to speak to me
I almost want to
Turn on the radio
Just to drown it out
Because I'm afraid
Of what it might have to say

~April M Mitchell 9-09

A Simple Woman's Day Book: September 13th, 2009

Start your own daybook: A Simple Womans Daybook

FOR TODAY August 13th...

Outside my window... squirrels are eating and its sunny.
I am thinking...maybe I should take a nap.
I am thankful husband who works so far away sometimes, I know he misses us.
From the learning rooms...I'm trying not to think about school today, my brain is resting.
From the kitchen...HA! I am not cooking today either. Took the kids to Sizzler to use their free kids meal coupons.
I am wearing...ponytail, t-shirt and yoga pants, bare feet
I am creating...peace and relaxation.
I am run many errands tomorrow.
I am reading ...The Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens

I am hoping... to get lots done tomorrow.
I am hearing...The boys move playing in the next room.
Around the house...we need to pick up a bit -but hey! We live here ya know!
One of my favorite things...lazy Sunday afternoons and NAPS!
A few plans for the rest of the week: Monday-errands and doctors apts, Tuesday-Homeschool PE and, FHE,  Cub scouts, Wednesday- Idaho Reading Indicators Testing, Thursday-Pokemon Club, Friday-TGIF!, Saturday-Is all mine!, Sunday-Church
Here is picture thought I am sharing...


Dating Montage
Uploaded by smithy00101. - Watch original web videos.

WOW is all I can say...and Thank goodness the video dating revolution is over!

Great Love

 "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love." ~Mother Teresa

Back to Homeschool 2009-2010

We officially started our homeschool year this week. The boys are really excited about it since we have a had a true break from homeschooling because of the move to Nampa. All the curriculum has arrived. I've got all my lesson plans mapped out (well at least for this quarter). The boys have been looking through their new books, eager to begin.

I wanted to start a new tradition-seeing all the first day of school pictures being posted all over blogs and facebook from friends inspired me. Today we met up with some friends at Lake View Park in Nampa and did our own first day of homeschool photos. Although not professional....I think they turned out pretty good with my little point and shoot camera and a little editing software.

P.S. Just click on photos to see them larger 



Homeschool PE: Rock Climbing

Big Helper

Oliver reading to his cousin Charley.

Clean Up

So I asked Kaleb to pick up his duplo blocks that were all over the livingroom floor, when I came back 10 minutes later, they were still not picked up. He spent 10 minutes doing this. hmmm...\


So I've noticed we have some sort of pest living at our house, eating our food. It's been stealing grapes out of the fridge. There was a whole bag of red grapes in the fridge this morning and now they are almost gone.

I even got a look at the bug as it was breaking into the fridge.

The Last Days of Summer

School starts back for us officially on the 7th. So this is our last week of Summer. Here are the boys at the Back to School Picnic for IDEA and at the pool.

The Cats Out of the Bag

Levi's brother Jassen and his wife have 3 cat children that they adore. They have grown and stock pilled fresh dried catnip in large bags and store them at Levi's parent house. I took a small baggie home for Chubs thinking it would be a nice treat for him. I took the little bag out of my purse and sat it on the kitchen counter and got busy. I made dinner, fed the kids, and then took them to the pool (without waiting an hr after eating). When we got back, we opened the front door and saw this flash of orange dart across and down the hallway. When I went in the kitchen this is what I found:
The bag was shredded and cat nip was scattered all over the floor. Chubs was very say the least.

It's a Homeschool Life #1

While driving home in the car-

Kaleb: Mom.... Mom, Mom...MOM!
Ian: She can't hear you she is driving.
Kaleb: Why do we have thumbs?
Ian: She can't hear you!
Kaleb chants: Why do we have thumbs? Why do we have thumbs? What do we have thumbs for?
Me: Ignoring him and driving
Josef tired of the chanting: SO WE CAN GRAB THINGS!
Kaleb: Oh...
Kaleb: I could grab something without my thumbs.
Josef exasperated: No you couldn't.Thumbs are special. Humans are the only ones that have them. Animals don't have thumbs to grab things like cups. We need our thumbs to hold onto things and type and stuff. Otherwise...we'd be like animals. (He continues to rattle on for 2 minutes about how we are better than animals because we have thumbs.)
Kaleb: Gorillas have thumbs.
Josef: Whatever.