This skinny little boy walks out of the house with a backpack weighted down with books and a computer and he's carrying a duffle bag full of sports stuff.  I can't even imagine carrying that load day after day and then working out for two hours after school but he does.  Yes, he has a locker at school but he doesn't use it.  He says that he doesn't even know where it is although he has the combination for it so he carries all his stuff with him throughout the day. This goes on for a couple weeks before the first meet of the season for school wrestling.  The day arrives and he comes downstairs in a sweatshirt that he's swimming in however it is his wrestling uniform.  He's so excited. Three other schools show up to the meet at the border.  I look around at the kids and realize the incredible difference in weight.  They call the first weight class, 80 to 100 pounds.  Job has weighed in at 75 pounds.  He doesn't even qualify for the lowest weight class but it turns out that there are two other kids from his school that weigh just about the same weight as him.  These three make their way down to the announcer's table anyway.  Will he get a match? I hope. How can he go to meet after meet without even 1 qualifying match? I am hoping that this doesn't make him lose interest, constantly wondering if he has an opponent.  I wait anxiously in the stands with John, wondering.  He comes back to the bleachers.  Not this round but the next round, which means that all weight classes wrestle and then they pair up kids again for another round. Finally it's Job's turn and he heads down to the mat with his opponent. Even though they asked parents to stay in the stands, I went down to the mat. I figured that if I didn't interfere and kept taking photos they wouldn't say anything to me. He walked out to the mat and they placed their colored bands around their ankles, shook hands and assumed neutral position.  That means they start facing each other.  The clock is set to a minute and a half.  A minute and a half to test his strength against his opponent by forcing his shoulders to touch the mat.  It is extremely tiring. He lasted through the first period and they reset the clock to another minute and a half.  Again, he pitted his strength against his opponent.  It was close to the end when he just couldn't quite keep from getting pinned. Exhausted he shook hands with his opponent and then with opposing coach before he came over to the bleachers to sit down. He let out a sigh and asked for food.  Can't deny him that, especially after wrestling.

I slowly mozey over to the couch with a cup of coffee in hand and plop down.  Plop is definitely the correct word, meaning to sit, fall or drop heavily and then there is the word mozey' meaning to move slowly or in a leisurely manner.  Both of these words to me have the connotation of being cozy and wrapped with warmth and familiarity.  In a formal setting you really don't plop or mozey but I want to be able to do that in my house.  I open a book about photography, knitting or being domestic, maybe my bible, a devotional, a library book or a favorite magazine. I grab the quilt that is draped over the back of the couch and pull it over me so that it covers my legs.  The dog saunters into the room with his chew bone and squeezes his body between the trunk and the couch.  He groans as he lays down and puts his head between his outstretched paws.  The sun slowly rises and light starts to fill the room. The silence of the morning surrounds the house and invades every nook and cranny we have. The stillness soaks into my body and I sit content and quiet.  I lean over and pick up my coffee cup to take a sip and I drink in my surroundings.  Pinterest is full of tips to make a cozy home, a redecorated home, an instyle home but I realize that my home is full of what makes it all that and a bag of chips. It can't be found on Pinterest.  I can't Google it.  It isn't tangible.  It is the quiet moments in the morning or loud laughter and the bantering around the dinner table.  It's the moments when one of my boys walks up to me and gives me a hug and the sigh that comes out when I wrap my arms around them. It is the piano music floating out of the family room as my daughter practices or the times her face lights up when she's telling me a story. It's the friends that walk through the door without knocking because they know they are family. It's the opening of the fridge from adolescent boys. It's the swing in the front tree in motion from neighborhood kids regardless of the presence of my kids. It's the moment my husband walks through the front door, giving me a kiss as I put my head on his chest. There will always be a new style, a new pinterest definition of coziness but I think that I've found it in my home.

Last month, I was in bed when Isaac walked through the front door.  It was late and I was tired.  He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.  He walked in with some hardware.  He placed 7th in Division 2 for state individual.  He was excited.  Then he launched into an explanation of some of his games and the conversation between John and Isaac quickly went over my head. Later on in the month, his chess coach called and asked if I would be a floor monitor for the Chess tournament that the Ferndale Chess club hosts.  Seriously? I barely know how the pieces move.  All I really needed to do was walk around and circle the winner of each match.  It was a whole day thing.  I was with the elementary kids which ended around 2:45.  I then walked over to the high school area only to find Isaac and Ben (his best friend) playing each other.  They go back and forth on who wins.  This friendship started as enemies on the same soccer team.  I remember one time that Isaac became so frustrated with Ben during a soccer practice that he jumped on Ben's back and tried to pummel him. I'm not sure when they started hanging out but it got to the point that Ben just walks right in to the house.  When they lived in our neighborhood, he would spend more time at our house than his house. We've taken him to Canada to go swimming and he tells the border guards that he practically lives with us.  When he's over, they play chess, modern warfare, hearthstone and sometimes minecraft.  After this chess match, Isaac and Ben went over the moves of the game.  They have to write down each move and so they analyzed it to see where Isaac went wrong and how Ben beat him.  I'm glad Isaac no longer feels the urge to try and take Ben down physically but with chess it is still fairly competitive.

The light shining through the bare stick trees which cast long thin shadows on the ground; the pale pink flowers blooming out of season on the entry way bushes and the silver frosted grass all greet me as I turn my van into the parking area of the dog-friendly park.  I look in the rear-view mirror and see the dog on high vibrate due his car anxiety and also anticipation of a run and hopefully a swim.  Such a beautiful morning for a run or walk, and just to drink in the beauty of this small hometown park.  I have only 30 minutes to take advantage of this quiet time.  Everywhere I look, I see beauty. There is so much here and each time I come it is different.  Sometimes the difference is stark and screams out the change and sometimes it's so subtle that if I don't take time to look around, I miss it.  It's quiet and I can't help but be reflective and contemplative on these walks with my camera and partner in crime, Skagit who just enjoys being outside with one of his people.

I pull into the little parking area just off Mosquito Lake Road and get out of the van.  I am giddy with excitement and immediately start scanning the trees and river bank.  I don't see anything but I know that just across the road there is the possibility of eagles.  I grab my camera, extra camera cards and batteries.  The kids get out of the van and we head up to the road.  We are immediately greeted with a large bald eagle in a tree right in front of us.  The boys marvel at the sheer size of the thing.  Down along the river is another group of three eagles, tearing something apart. Farther along the river bank there are four or five eagles on the ground, a couple more in trees.  We watch them hop along the shore, spreading their wings and push off the ground soaring over the river. Our eyes start to pick out more and more eagles on both sides. Some of their feathers are spotted and they have brown heads which means they are still juvenile birds, they haven't reach adulthood yet.  We start counting, three here, a three in a tree, three more in another tree, one on a log in the river and it goes on.  Seventeen total of the ones we can see.  They are beautiful, powerful, majestic.  It is amazing that we can pretty much drive right to a perfect viewing spot of these birds.  We wait for them to soar and glide, hoping that they will swoop down to pull a fish out of the river but we don't see that. Instead we listen to their cries and watch as they spread their wings, jockeying for positions along the bank or in the trees.  More cars pull up and people get out, kids are amazed and their eyes light up with excitement. What an opportunity. We live in such a beautiful and special area. I get to get out to enjoy it with my kids and I am overcome with gratitude.

The quiet morning surrounds me as I place one foot in front of the other on the wooded trail. This normally popular trail is almost empty of people.  There are a few over eager ones and their pups out but definitely not like during peak hours or peak weather. My dog's ears flap up and down with each stride he takes and his tongue hangs out one side of his mouth with what I would call a smile. One look at him and I can tell that he is living life to the fullest, enjoying this small moment of pure bliss, just running for the sheer joy of being outside.  John and I grab this small opportunity to talk as we run around the lake, sharing a little bit of what is going on in our life, our concerns, and our thoughts.  It's a time to reconnect uninterrupted and without questions. All the while we watch the dog with his zest for life and just laugh at his exuberance for being here now. After one lap around and I take the dog and grab my camera while John takes another lap. There are starting to be more people and more dogs, however my dog only has eyes for a tennis ball I found.  Same game over and over again; fetch in the water. It's cold and sprinkling and January but he doesn't care. Sometimes I wish I was more like the dog. Living in the moment, enjoying such a little thing as a walk. He isn't distracted by other dogs or even by the ducks. He is focused on retrieving and enjoying what he was made to do. I take my cue from the dog and look around, a feather, the moss on the tree, the reflection of the shoreline upon the water, the repeated patterns of the bark on the trees.  I'm enjoying the quiet, the beauty, the time outdoors.  A beautiful Saturday morning run and walk and date on a rather grey day.

It's 6 am, the coffee is brewing in the coffee pot. The piggers are popcorning in their cage and Skagit is snoring in his kennel.  John is getting ready for work and the kids are slowly rolling out of bed. I pour my self a cup of coffee and add a little sugar and sit down at the computer. My routine, scan Facebook.  Is there anything that has happened in my circle that I need to know about? Wait, what did my friend Marie post?  A list of things that she wants and dreams about doing in this year. The headings are all fun sounding. How cool is that? I'm so loving her headings, that I decide to copy them. In fact I'm going to use her list as inspiration for this new year. So I scan her headings and choose which ones will fit for me.  All.
Dreams/Goals
Learn
Record
Organize
Celebrate
Read
Teach/Inspire
Give
Health/Well Being
Go/Explore
Create

I get excited and my mind starts turning, racing with ideas but need more help. She sends me her complete list and I peruse it, thinking about my current situation and how it may go together. Opening a journal, I start practicing letters and once more feel like I'm in grade school working on penmenship. I open a book my friend Tara gave me and look at different lettering styles. I want my list to be beautiful and inspiring for myself. I am so visual. I find a primer for cursive in French. There are some letters that are shaped differently than American letters.  Look it up.  One thing I want to learn is calligraphy so I  grab a notebook, which I realize that I'm starting to collect.  I open it and start practicing calligraphy and shaping the letters just right. This snowballs to my bible journal too.  I am inspired.  The only thing is that I want to do everything on my list this week but it is supposed to be a year thing. I have to pace myself.  Maybe I should make this for each month.  There is more thinking to be done.

I love books, especially fiction books or books that have a nostalgic feel to them. Every year at Christmas I get out my stack of Christmas books. They include such titles as "The Night Before Christmas", "The Polar Express", and "The Sweet Smell of Christmas ". The last one my mom bought me to replace the one we had when I was a child. I love to introduce my kids to books that I enjoyed when I was younger or even sharing stories now. This year I bought a new book to add to my collection. It's not really a book, it's a devotional but I'm including it with my Christmas books. I didn't read it every day. I didn't want to put that much pressure on myself but when I found extra time I would read a few pages although I didn't want to read ahead. I wanted that anticipation of what would come next. Often times in the fiction books I have read, there are prophecies about the main character or for the main character. It happens over and over and over again.  I know that the Bible has prophecy in it that was fulfilled by Jesus but it really struck me this year.  The Bible isn't fiction and it has true prophecy in it, all over pointing to Jesus, better than any fictional book could ever have. Two specific fiction books that I can think of are "Rowan of the Rin" and "Gregor the Overlander."  I think we as people love the thought of something pointing to future events and puzzling them out. However, this year it really struck me that we have that very thing but it isn't fiction. While reading the Advent devotional, the prophecy really stood out over and over again. I don't know why it made such an impact this year but it did. I loved reading the prophecies and writing little notes in the Advent book, making little doodles and highlighting things I want to remember.  My hope is to add to it next year and maybe my kids will want to read through it as well.

I walk into the house after church and look around. There are boys everywhere.  I started to name the boys I saw but they kept popping up from the floor and couches. I felt like I was in the 101 Dalmatian movie only with boys instead of puppies. It was Isaac's 2nd Annual December Football Party.  I think that he would have had more boys but it was sort of last minute deal.  They watched football, played football and ate.  I'm assuming that it was a success.