The good news is that I got a new camera. Yes, I replaced the Olympus digital that I “lost” in our move this Spring.

I don’t lose things. Really, I don’t. So this has been really upsetting to me. I have looked. And looked. And looked.

The camera is nowhere to be found.

Sigh.

So I’ve been living with my iPhone camera only for 3 months now.

And I need to mentioned that EVERY SINGLE DAY, I pined for my little Olympus.

So this weekend, I found one on super-duper sale and bought it. And yesterday, all charged up and ready to go, we took a family road trip. I couldn’t wait to start taking pictures.

But I had photo block. Kind of like writers block, but with a camera. I couldn’t decide what to take pictures of. I kept looking through the lens. And not snapping.

As the day progressed, I started doing a little better. I tried. But most of the photos were trash.

Trash, I say.

But, not being a quitter, I kept trying.

I didn’t get many great shots. But I got a few.

I’ll keep shooting until I get my mojo back.

My sister, Amy, loved me when we were kids. I guess I loved her, too. But she was little. She didn’t understand. I know I wasn’t nice enough to her. And I’ve been working for years to make it up to her. And sadly, she’s hours away. I don’t see her enough. I have regrets. I should have tried harder. I love her daughters. I love her. And I’m going to tell this story of a memory of my baby sister and maybe, just maybe, I’ll win the DC Cupcakes contest. If I do, I’ll buy her something she’d never buy herself. (I already have an idea!)

So my little sister.

My sister, Amy.

She was always the sweet one.

And one day, she bought me a book. It was one of those little books. Like the Joan Walsh Anglund books. But not. It was about sisters. How they loved and supported each other. It was insightful and beautiful.

And I did not appreciate it.

Not nearly enough.

I remember thinking that it did not pertain. To us.

And though I loved her, I could not relate. I was the big one. She was the little one.

She should look up to me.

And she did.

Was I deserving of that? In hindsight? Clearly not as much as I thought. That’s for sure.

And my baby sister was the sweetest of all sweet. Would never hurt a fly. Would do anything for me.

She was an angel.

And I.

I did not appreciate her. At least not enough.

But somewhere, I must have known. Because I saved that book. I saved it through college. Through my apartments – one every year for 6 years. Through my failed marriage. Through my move out of that part of my life.

I saved that book as I bought my own home. Alone, as an independent woman. And I saved it as I married my husband of 17 years and as we moved halfway across the country to Nebraska.

And I saved it all the way back to the East Coast after my father got sick and we moved back to this part of the world. And I saved it as I had 3 sons. And into my new home.

And recently.

Very recently.

I gave that book to my baby sister, now the mother of 3 amazing daughters, and told her I loved her and was sorry I wasn’t a better sister.

And we hugged. And cried.

We are different, my sister and I.

But I love her. For exactly who she is. And that? That will never change.

I know she loves the book I gave back to her. I know she knows what it stands for.

My sister.

She is a religious woman. Raising a religious family.

And I respect that.

When they come to visit, we prepare meals that work with their guidelines. We buy new pots and pans and read all the labels.

So they’ll be comfortable.

I hope I have many more years to be a good sister to my sister.

Because I love her.

And because I owe her.

I’m writing down my mother’s day resolutions.

Wait, you don’t do that? I’ve decided that January 1 is just too damn early in the year to know what is reasonable to promise. And by the end of June, the year is halfway over so it seems a little lame. So May. May works.

While I try not to be overly ambitious, I do want to challenge myself a little.

So here goes:

Finish unpacking. 3 boxes plus some personal organization left. Not bad.
Make more time for hiking, playing, goofing off with the kids.
Ride my bike.
Keep up with the laundry. (Okay, this is ridiculous, but a girl can dream.)
Play with my iPhone less.
Learn something new. Maybe Norwegian? Still thinking. Suggestions?

And of course, there are other things that now that I’m writing it all down I realize that some of it is just not for public consumption.

But I’m going to do my best.

At least until Father’s Day.

I did, however, make some butt-kicking desserts for seder tomorrow night.

Baking, I can do. Maybe it’s just because it’s more structured. More mathematical.

And maybe it’s just because I love bread and sweets so much.

Just sayin’

In the name of full disclosure, this bag of Poppycock was given to me in my BlissDom conference bag. So I did not pay for it.

Last night, I had a few pieces. Tucked the bag in my carry-on so I’d have a little snack for my travels back home.

While sitting at the airport in Nashville, I had a few pieces. And a few more. I typed and typed and snacked and snacked.

Then all of a sudden, I realized I was scraping the bottom of the bag.

Oops.

Fortunately, when I checked the nutrition information on the back of the empty bag, I saw it was only 160 calories.

Phew.

Oops.

That would be per serving.

No worries. How many servings could there be in the bag?

Seven.

That’d be 1,120 calories.

My best decision? Nah.

But man, oh, man that stuff is good.

(Ellen, Libby, Kristin, et.al: Don’t tell Cyrus!)

I am smart and a gourmet,
I wonder how it feels to be famous,
I hear bacon sizzling,
I see computers all the time,
I want to be a chef,
I am smart and a gourmet.

I pretend to be indifferent,
I feel happy when I eat,
I care about my religion,
I worry about the environment,
I cry when people die,

I am smart and a gourmet.
I understand the subjects in school,
I say that I am intelligent,
I dream that I will become an artist,
I try to play saxophone well,
I hope the Saints win the SuperBowl,
I am smart and a gourmet.

photo by mmackinven

I’m leaving tomorrow for a business trip. Before you go feeling all sorry for me, it’s a really, really nice business trip.

See you on the flip side!

I just want to be home.

Instead, I’m half asleep with the sound of screaching children in my head with a Spanish tv station or radio station in bass tones coming from behind me or inside my stomach.

i hear newpapers’ pages being turned, a woman crying, and a young girl slurping on her frozen Starbucks mocaccino.

A cough. Another cough. More screaching, but happy this time.

I’m going home.

Snowy Road, Vermont, USA by pbwilder

It’s brisk out in the D.C. area. I’d say it was cold, but I’m saving that word for tomorrow at 9:29 am.

That’s when I land in Burlington, Vermont.

Luckily the temperature is due to rise to ZERO by 8:00 am.

I bet it’s a balmy 4 or 5 by the time I get there.

We’ll be headed to Liberty Hill Farms for a two-day meeting. It’s so beautiful there. And you know what? It’s no colder there than Burlington. WOOT!

I’m sad to leave my boys (including Andrew) but I love a good adventure.

And I love this client.

And I bet I get to eat some awesome cheese. (hint, hint.)

Au revoir!