Thursday, September 26, 2013

When I was 9

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Ya know, when I was 9 my mom worked for an older guy named Abe and I got to tag along.  He'd smoked his lungs into a couple of tar bags that didn't work real well and so my mother, who is a respiratory therapist came to his house each morning to hook him up to some kind of breathing machine.  The machine sounded like Darth Vader trying to run a 10k.  Abe sat in his faded chair, and he told cool old stories about wars and falling through the ice of a lake and 10 cent milk shakes, but only after Darth Vader finished it's race.

Abe loved marmalade. Or maybe he was just a creature of habit because everyday my mom would start a load of laundry and then make Abe a marmalade sandwich.  Abe is the only reason that as an adult, I try to like marmalade.

But the thing I remember most about Abe, was the day I helped my mom carry the laundry down the stairs to the apartment's community washroom.  A sock fell out of the basket, so I picked it up and about a pound of some fine white powder fell out of the sock into a perfect little ant hill.

"Mom, what is this?"

"It's dead skin."

Dead skin!  Wow!  I had no idea an old man could lose so much dead skin from his foot.  Fascinating.

My daughter was 9 when she felt the heaviness of terrible things in our home.  She's 11 now.  I was so scared for her and at a loss of what to do.  Should we tell her?  Should we keep it quiet?  Should I lie to her?  What should I do?  Should I just tell her stories about war and 10 cent milkshakes?  As any parent knows, when heaviness enters our homes our children feel it and suffer from it regardless of whether we tell them or not.

We chose to tell her.

And so, at a time when I was listening to Darth Vader and worried about dead skin socks my daughter was burdened with hard things.  We will all choose what is best for our kids.  Many of us are making impossible decisions and sometimes choosing the less of two evils.  But this is something I have seen in my daughter and I am certain she is not unlike all of your own kids.

She is strong.  She can understand heavy things.  She is incredibly resilient.  She reflects my own attitude. She is loving.  She is forgiving.  She can set boundaries. She has learned valuable life lessons.  She is open. She can listen to her own heart.  She is aware.  She is empathetic and pure.

And contrary to the belief of the world, she isn't broken.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Moonlight Yoga

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Moonlight Yoga tonight, Monday Sept, 23 at 8 pm in Tempe.  
Email me here for more info and directions.
Bring a friend.

Yoga mats provided just bring a willing heart and some water.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Sleeping In



Saturday morning I slept in.

I loved the decadence of it especially on an overcast drizzly morning.
At 6 am Mr. Scabs and our daughter woke up and headed to Piestewa Peak for an early morning hike.
And then, at 8 am our little boy crawled in my bed and snuggled next to me.
Perfect weekend morning.

The perfect end to the most perfect birthday, September 5th I turned another year older. I just wanted to take a minute and thank you all.  So many of you unexpectedly sent me notes and packages in the mail, messages in my inbox, the sweetest phone calls, treats, cinnamon rolls and a book with heartfelt messages from many of you...i burst into tears, it was beautiful.

Thank you.

I love you,
Scabs

p.s. Don't forget tonight's midnight yoga at 8pm for all of you.  Email me for the location.  If you emailed me and didn't get a response check the email address:

eatmyscab @ gmail {dot} com
not eatmyscabs...it's confusing, I know.  Maybe I should change it.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Moonlight Yoga


Ok, seriously, it's not at midnight, it's at 8pm.  

Scab's Yoga

Who's Invited: Blog readers, women only.  First-time yogis, long-time yogis, all ages, sizes, beliefs...ALL who read are invited.  Email me if you still wonder if I mean you.  I will assure you that I mean YOU are invited. Come.

This is a completely private, invitation only, Scabs-readers only yoga/meditation class.  It's designed for us.

Why: Incredible healing and friends, of course.

When:
Monday Sept 9th @ 8pm and 
Monday Sept 23rd @ 8pm

Where: a yoga studio in Tempe
email with "yoga" in the subject line or text me for directions.

Cost: "Love Donation" this mean pay what you can when you can.  If you can't the class is free. There will be a donation jar in an inconspicuous place so that your donation or non-donation will remain anonymous.  Please come, regardless of money.

Who's teaching: Yoga Amber, our officially unofficial Camp Scabs yoga instructor.  She understand us. I promise.

Send me a note here and I'll add you to our moonlight yoga email list.


Sending my love,
Scabs


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

salted caramel peaches

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The above picture is real and real delicious.  It's peach season.  So, in the name of self-care, get yourself some ripe peaches, click here and make these little delights.  You wont be disappointed.

{My little grocery store didn't have mascarpone cheese so I whipped up a 30/70 mixture of cream cheese and ricotta.  Also, my cupboards were bare of bourbon so I just added 2 TBS vanilla, the good kind. When the little peaches was put together I sprinkled a bit of sea salt on top...magnifique!}

Tonight, I'm doing mad amounts of laundry, catching up on some email and making my kids lunches for school.  It was 100 degrees at 8:30 pm tonight.  Some people hate that but not me.  My idea of the perfect lull between August and September is sweltering, humid, hotter than hell temps broken up by the crackdown of monsoon rain.  Even the whisper of possible rain is enough to make the desert sigh.

Oh, and I'll be enjoying this while sipping on my sweet green tea from Sonic.  Thank you half-off happy hour.

Tonight, I also bought the last scholarship sponsored plane ticket for one lucky lady joining us in Idaho for Camp Scabs.  Can you believe it?  Five women, who wouldn't have been able to come to camp are coming because of the compassion of one man.  The generosity of our mysterious benefactor continues to leave me speechless.  Thank you.

There's hope.



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