Archive for the All Our Dreams Category

Reworking – Moment by Moment

Posted in All Our Dreams, Autumn Wilder, Book Love, Growing Things, Music Love, Writer Mama on June 22, 2009 by Michelle Taylor
  • She’s lost another tooth.  The lack of any baby-ness in her face and attitude right now is scaring the crap out of me.  My tool box feels dusty.  Old ways of doing are rapidly becoming extinct.  NEED NEW TOOLS NOW!

Autumn 1


  • My garden is one of the most amazing pieces of art I’ve ever created.  Truly the essence of what beauty is.  What a little seed can do.  Climbing just like my girl into adolescence.  They are both shaking me to my very core every time I look their way.


  • Thinking of Pa, Dad and Don today.  And the way that I am becoming more and more entangled in the web of him-hood.  I’ve always been a girl of girls, women surrounding women, only letting in the few men in my life.  For the first time, I’m opening to the possibility.  Loss allows for so much newness.
  • The day dad had his heart attack I stopped cleaning my house.  I’m not sure what this is about and what to do other than keep closing doors when people come over.  Priorities, the whiff of possible mortality in the air, carrying more and more terrifying sadness with me day to day?  I don’t have the answer but I must figure this out soon.
  • Writing.  I thought I would quit you.  But then all of a sudden, my fingers ache to word-play all day long.  It’s been my computer and me for days, reworking my head into something I can live with.  Hopefully.
  • Poetry and music have taken over my entire synapses.  It must be Solstice romancing me back to the earth.  (As I wrote that last sentence, thunder rolled and lightening struck.  Must be an omen.)


Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.


Of Healing and Growth

Posted in All Our Dreams, Growing Things, People We Love on June 1, 2009 by Michelle Taylor

Our garden is bursting just as our hearts are bursting.  Most days, you can see us peeking out the window or traipsing around the garden’s edges, checking on each leaf, each flower.  So far, in various stages,  we have spinach, peas, various tomatoes, watermelon, pumpkins, tomatillos, egg plant, acorn squash, various sunflowers, radishes, carrots, basil and many other herbs.  All powerful we are, growing our own food.


Food that we plan to share.  Spinach and carrots for dad who has literally healed his heart with vegetables and walking.  Dad’s heart is now working at 50%.  Most hearts work at 55-60%.  After his heart attack Dad’s heart was working at 35% and the doctors didn’t know if it would get any better.  But he is living proof that diet and exercise can change your life.  He is determined to get it back to working to its full potential.  With this renewed heart, Dad is savoring every moment.  You can see his love radiating from his every pore.  Heart attacks are bad, very bad, devastating monsters but I believe we have more of dad today than we did before that horrendous April morning when none of us knew what his fate would be.


So, we’re growing our tomatoes and our hearts, big and red and strong.  The vibration we feel from our own beating hearts and that of the earth itself is the same.  Toiling the soil is giving us moments of pause.  Our day slows as we watch for each new opening flower, each new sprouting leaf.  Today we watched as the purple of the radishes began to show in the black dirt and the yellow flowers of a beginning tomato open.  Each day is something new, something fresh, something we didn’t have the day before.

Woodsy Owl

Posted in All Our Dreams, Animal Love, Art Love, People We Love on March 11, 2009 by Michelle Taylor

I received this in the mail from my sister the other day.  She made it by request.  I love it!  But I think it might need the Mushrooms for Dinner to hang next to.

And she got in to the art program at Western!  We’re all so proud.

A Portfolio

Posted in All Our Dreams, Art Love, People We Love on February 28, 2009 by Michelle Taylor

I want to share some beauty.  Beauty created by my baby sister.  She’s been creating art for ever.  She has just applied to the art program at Western Washington University.  And here is her portfolio.


Mushrooms for Dinner by Brittaney Davis (my favorite).

Good Luck Britt!

In the Stitch: Part II

Posted in All Our Dreams, Learning Mama, Making Things on November 29, 2008 by Michelle Taylor

For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been in a crocheting daze. With Amy’s help, we have been finger crocheting at school as well.

On Wednesday, the sun was blinding, so we took the few kids that hadn’t left for thanksgiving already, to the park.  I took my current project with me and sat down on the bench and began to stitch.  Another group of kids walked up to the park and I was immediately flanked by a fourth grade boy and a second grade boy.  The second grade boy had a finger knitting piece going and the fourth grade boy started teaching me how to finger knit and then asked to try crocheting with my hook.  I showed him how and he did a few stitches as if he’d been doing it forever.

These boys, who I found out were brothers, were at the daycare down the street for the day because the public schools were out.  I watched as the second grade boy finished his finger knitting and then began to rip it out and start again.  I asked him why he ripped it out and he said that this was all the yarn he had and that his mom couldn’t buy any for him because, gulp, she was in jail.

I couldn’t get my hands unraveled from my yarn fast enough before I handed over my giant blue ball of yarn to him.  He looked up with me with such gratitude and pride.  He walked off to show the fourth grade boy and I could hear him say, “it’s even my favorite color.”  The fourth grade boy came over and asked if I had given it to him and I could tell he was so envious.  I told them that I would bring some more to the daycare later that day.  I started to gather my kids together to go and the second grade boy brought over the first piece he was working on and without saying a word, he held it out to me.  My heart stood still.

The very fact that these boys would rather knit than play battle, tackle or war was in itself heart warming.  I left school a little bit early so I could drop by their daycare.  I gathered all the yarn I had brought with me, which was a ton because I was on my way out of town after school.  The boys had pointed up the street to show me where the daycare was, so I would know where to take the yarn.  When the door was opened, the people running the place weren’t too friendly or happy to see me and I didn’t think it was okay to ask for the kids but I hope they got their yarn and are finding their own solace in the stitch.

Lucky we are.  Thankful I am.

Smokin’ Joe

Posted in All Our Dreams, People We Love, Photo Love on July 25, 2008 by Michelle Taylor

I met Joe, my then future father-in-law, ten years ago. I was immediately smitten. We would sit outside watching the sun set on the blue mountains, sharing unfiltered Camel’s and chit-chatting the evening away. He always called me babe. When I was back home he would call me to just say hi. I loved his rugged way and yes his hick talk and swagger. He spent years teaching auto mechanics during the day and then working at his dad’s auto shop at night. He was always happy-go-lucky, do-anything-for-you Joe.

Then his kidney’s began to fail and he needed a transplant. To be on the transplant list he had to quit smoking. He smoked for sixty years and then one day he stopped while he waited to get a new kidney. Then they told him he couldn’t be on the list – his age, his previous bout with bladder cancer. He continued to not smoke but he barely even spoke when we would visit and more often-then-not just grumbled.

Joe gave up. He told us that he was going to stop dialysis soon. He hasn’t called me babe in years. Then my husband’s step-father had a heart attack – one of many. But this one has taken his heart down to working 35%. We have been visiting with him on this side of the state and we of course have been hanging out at Joe’s as well.

As I walked up the drive for our visit this time, Joe was sitting outside, no shirt and chain smoking. He stood up and grabbed me, saying “Hey babe!” And he was back. I’m not a proponent of smoking but I believe this little bit of tobacco and ash has brought my Joe back. He was more alive this visit than he’s been in years.

I didn’t have a smoke with him (motherhood broke me clean of that) but I took in all the “babe’s” he threw my way, beaming and so happy to have him back with us for a while.

Real Dreams

Posted in All Our Dreams, Autumn Wilder, Film Love with tags , , on November 9, 2007 by Michelle Taylor

Last night while Autumn’s Daddy was at his Transcendental Meditation seminar, Autumn and I watched the PBS NOVA documentary, Dogs and More Dogs that we got from the library. It is all about how dogs evolved from wolves and even though it wasn’t terribly exciting, it was about dogs, which is pure gold to Autumn who stated half way through; “Mama, I LOVE this movie.”

Her favorite part was watching the wolves run through the snow and after we were finished watching, we headed up to bed where she pulled back her dog quilt and played “wolf” on her white “snow blankie.”

Then today on the way to school Autumn said from the back seat; “I played in the snow last night and it was SOOOOO fun!” I said; “You mean on your bed.” And she said; “NO, I played in the snow.” I said; “Did you have a dream?” And she said; “NO! IT WAS REAL!”

Dreams so real, she thinks she played in the snow all night – a girl after my own dreams. Don’t make me mad in my dreams because I’ll hold it against you when I wake up.