Monday, February 28, 2011


Dear Nostalgia,
I am always surprised at where you pop up. Last night was a complete side swipe of my emotions. And you are to thank for it. There I was, hanging out at Arctic Circle with my little kids, watching them play on the indoor playground. I was minding my own business. I was not festering about my oldest child's upcoming 14th birthday. I was not internally lamenting the passage of years. I was simply hanging with the littles, killing time.

And you snuck up on me. Like a cougar lying in wait for its prey. And me? I was the juicy ribeye.

You, Nostalgia, snuck in behind a cute little family with an adorable little 3 year old boy. He wasn't the spitting image of my boy-man, but.... He was wearing a little bomber jacket just like the one I had for my son at that age. And when this adorable little child turned around to tell his daddy, "Watch me! Daddy, watch me!" as he climbed up the playground like a "big" boy, I about lost it. Instantly you completely possessed me, and I flashed back to when my little boy-man was that size and would say, "Watch me, Mamma, watch me!" with excitement in his little lispy voice.

Nostalgia, I blame you for my near breakdown at Arctic Circle. It took all of my self control to not go over to those complete strangers and shout for them to treasure that moment. That moment that had just happened. Because in a flash that boy would be a boy-man and would no longer talk in a sweet little voice, but in a crackling-finding his way to being a man kind of voice. And they would miss it, that moment, and it would be gone in the passage of time and pursuit of the next milestone. And they would wish it back.

So thanks, Nostalgia, for making me fight the urge to be a crazy woman at the local burger joint. Next time could you just schedule an appointment?

Wishing for another sweet little boy moment,

Friday, February 25, 2011

Hubby O'Mine

Dear Husband,
I realize that your new iPhone is the cat's pajamas, the best thing since sliced bread. I understand that is all that and a bag of chip's too. You have loaded a bunch of apps. You have game apps, a Zippo lighter app and Finger Drums. Choosing to have the Atomic Fart app wasn't really my choice, but whatevs. 

However, I have just one thing to say to you.... Unless you can find a Wife App to replace me - you better put that thing down and pay me some attention. 

Your loving REAL LIFE WIFE, 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Dear Veggie Co-op Basket,
It's like Christmas every Saturday when I pick you up and eagerly dig through your contents. This week I was perplexed by one of your offerings. After some research I discovered the brown root was actually a Jerusalem Artichoke. I continued my research for cooking lessons for this oddity and this is what I stumbled across. Apparently in Gerard's Herbal, printed in 1621, the English planter John Goodyer said this about Jerusalem artichokes:
"which way soever they be dressed and eaten, they stir and cause a filthy loathsome stinking wind within the body, thereby causing the belly to be pained and tormented, and are a meat more fit for swine than men."

I have no other words for you, Basket. What kind of evil plot is this, to stir up and filthy loathsome stinking wind within our bodies? You shall not control this family, Basket. We are on to you. 

Jerusalem artichoke and stinking wind free, 

Monday, February 21, 2011

Pretty Mean Syndrome

Dear PMS, 

Thanks for giving me an excuse to act unreasonable and crazy every once in a while. The rest of the world is probably glad you don't show up too often, but I am glad it's you and that I am not actually loosing my mind. 

Irrational and armed, 

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Snow Glitter

Dear Snowy Friday Afternoon, 

You. Were. Amazing! 
I absolutely loved your sunny skies and softly floating snowflakes. But the best part? That it was warm and the snow didn't stick and there is nothing for me to shovel or slip in this morning. I am so thankful there is no white frozen tundra covering my crocus that is desperately trying to peep thru the frozen ground. I adored how it looked like God smiled and sprinkled glitter on my afternoon. 

Still smiling, 

P.S. Ok, I can't lie any longer. Especially if I am going to be talking about God and His glitter sprinkling on my day.... I wouldn't actually be the one shoveling the snow if it had stayed around. And I probably wouldn't really even go outside at all to actually slip around any. Soooo, I guess I meant to say all that in a sort hypothetical situation type of way. But I did mean that part about the crocus and the glitter. Totally the truth. So, I am not always a big, fat liar. I just sometimes exaggerate. Only sometimes. Ok, that's another lie. I like to exaggerate. But only if it's funny. Or I get some sympathy out of it. Oh boy, I better stop now. ~ Lark

Friday, February 18, 2011

Dreaming some dreams

Dear Dreams,
 I have gotten used to the unrealistic oddities you throw. 

Flying? Done that. 

Chased by a faceless terror? Blase.

 A dream in black and white featuring a teenage Carrottop as the only thing in color? Yip, had that one. Shudder.

But really, dreams, you have outdone yourself this time. Really? You made me Kim Kardashian's mom?! Really? I really appreciated how you tried to make it all "logical" and everything by having my dream self tell the sales clerk at the high end boutique she and I were shopping at (another proof that it was a dream BTW, just in case you weren't convinced) that she got her looks from her dad. But really. Let's just take a lookie look and see... 

Kim Kardashian

Uncanny isn't it. 

Let's try again tonight, 

Thursday, February 17, 2011


Dear Thursday, 

Thank you for being so close to the weekend. But I have to admit, I secretly hate you for not being Friday. Could you please rev up your excitement level or something? Throw in a pony or circus or something?  

Wishing you were Saturday

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Refrigerator Racism

Dear Refrigerator, 
What's up with the segregation going on inside your doors? Haven't you heard that it's the 21st century? Who died and made you the boss of things?! Maybe my fruits and veggies don't want to be separated any longer. Maybe they want to hang out together. Who are you to force them to be apart? And what about those weird vegetables that are really fruit, like tomatoes and avocados? Where do they fit in, in your segregated little world? It is long past time for you to do your part in not condoning or encouraging xenophobia. 

Can't we all just get along, 

Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentines Day

Dear Valentines Day, 
I had such high hopes for you and me this year. But I am sorry to inform you that Mr. Influe Enza has taken all the joy and plans I had for us. Do you suppose we could 
re schedule for Thursday perhaps? I should be feeling better then and all your holiday accessories will be marked down substantially. 

Not feeling the love, 

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Piles of Laundry

Dear Piles of Laundry,
How do you like being clean for once? Will you be scared when you are put into drawers and not piled up with all your friends in a basket? No worries, laundry. You will be together again soon enough.
High on the scent of Downy,

Saturday, February 12, 2011

TV Commercials

Dear TV Commercials, 
You assure me that happiness can be found in the bottom of a Happy Meal box, at Golden Corral, and in a heartburn free day. I think that if I were to participate in finding happiness at McDonalds and Golden Corral I would not be having a heartburn free day. So what is it? 
Feeling conflicted, 

Friday, February 11, 2011

Dear Freezer Section at WinCo

Dear Freezer Section at WinCo,
Thank you for making dinner for us. I rarely visit you so it is nice that you are available for me at a moments notice. Sorry to be such a bad friend. 
Here's to seeing more of you,