Yeux Verts

Patience

2012-02-16T10:38:00.002-07:00

I read a talk today that Elder Neal A. Maxwell gave at BYU in 1979. He spoke on patience, something I thought I was a recent expert on, but as I read I realized that, like all great attributes, acquiring patience is an on-going process. We don't just get patience and are done with it, we need to continue to strengthen it and let it grow within all aspects of our lives. I just wanted to share a few quotes that really touched my heart and hit home with me; ok more than a few. The greatest thing I learned is that patience can change our attitude on life. I've felt as if I have been in a rut lately, not really progressing or digressing, just not moving. It's been frustrating, but now understanding that patience can help the doldrum hours of life has been a bright light in my otherwise drab days. As Elder Maxwell said, now is the time for me to reflect and prepare for the things to come. Be excited for this time to look back on where you have been and what you have learned. Life doesn't need to always be one big mess of craziness. Enjoy the quiet times and just love it all.

"Patience means caring very much but being willing, nevertheless to submit to the Lord and to what the scriptures call the 'process of time'"

"One is not only to endure, but to endure well and gracefully those things which the Lord 'seeth fit to inflict upon [us]'"

"Sometimes that which we are doing is correct enough but simple needs to be persisted in patiently, not for a minute or a moment but sometimes for years."

"When we are unduly impatient, we are, in effect, trying to hasten an outcome when this kind of acceleration would be to abuse agency."

"Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe"

"...the seeming flat periods of life give us a blessed chance to reflect upon what is past as well as to be readied for some rather stirring climbs ahead. Instead of grumbling and murmuring, we should be consolidation and reflecting..."

"Patience helps us to use, rather than to protest, these seeming flat periods of life, becoming filled with quiet wonder over the past and with anticipation for that which may lie ahead, instead of demeaning the particular flatness through which we may be passing at the time. We should savor even the seemingly ordinary times, for life cannot be made up all of kettledrums and crashing cymbals."

"patience permits us to cling to our faith in the Lord when we are tossed about by suffering as if by surf. When the undertow grasps us, we will realize that even as we tumble we are somehow being carried forward; we are actually being helped even as we cry for help."

"Patience" by Elder Neal A. Maxwell

Jars

2012-02-01T13:03:00.000-07:00

I entered into a writing competition last month, I didn't win but I was a semi-finalist! Figured I would post the poem, and the link with the "honorable mention" - http://mormonartist.net/2012/01/mormon-lit-blitz-finalists/ (I'm just a small name in a small paragraph but hey, it's my name!)

Jars
Jars
Jars that sit empty
Jars that sit full
Full of candies
Full of paint
Full of brushes

Jars
Some with lids
Some without
Ones that sit pell-mell
across the shelves
A room full of jars

Jars to collect
mementos of the past
Jars to reflect
on treasures of the heart
Jars
All once full of peaches
pears
plums
All once full of juices
jellies
jams

Jars that Grandmother’s wrinkled, arthritic hands

have washed for years Jars that have seen
seasons of fruit
seasons of frost
and passed through so many hands
Hands of sisters
Hands of mothers
Hands of aunts
and hands of others

Jars that hold the echoes
of August conversations
Jars which come to finally sit
upon these shelves
to be filled with objects of forgetting
and objects of remembering

A jar of thread
A jar of scissors
A jar with a spider, enclosed in the glass
A jar with a flashlight, standing upright
Jars once regal in their purpose
once lovingly filled
now stand
oddly placed along the shelves
catching the waning light of autumn
dwindling to mere decoration

Fight for You

2012-01-23T00:26:00.002-07:00

Wrote this a couple months ago for an assignment in Creative Writing. I actually had to recite the poem to get full credit. I wish I was brave enough to post a video of me reciting it now, would get the feeling behind it across better. Oh well...

(for the record- it meant something then, and still does)

"Here I am. Standing here, waiting.

I look into those hazel eyes placed perfectly under yourbrow and I see the question that burns in the cavern of your soul.

Will I fight for you?

Will I fight, for you?

Will I spend every last throbbing ounce of energy in my bodyto tear down whatever wall is thrown up between us? Whatever obstacle is placedin our path?

Then let me start by telling you how I would build a timemachine just to go back and save you from ever getting your heart broken.

How I wish I could reach inside your memories and tear outall the bad ones with her just so you could forget the pain they each left in yourchest.

Let me tell you about how scared I have been. How I let fear enter into my heart and let you walk away.

Let me tell you about how scared I was of pushing youaway and how I have kept back so much in telling you how I really felt.

Fight for you? Ok.

Let me tell you it all right now, let me open up and explainto you how I want to be your one and only.

I want to be the one who gets to sit next to you through it all, thick and thin, and all the sizes and shapes in between.

How you’ve inspired me to write and how each time I think about you whether it is in a moment of pain or love my mind grows wings and soars with inspiration.

I want to be the one next to you the next time you smile andI want to be the reason why you are.

I want to go and do nothing with you all day. Lie on thecouch playing card games and telling stories.

Let me finally show you how every time I wake up I wish youwere next to me. How I hate night time because it means you have to leave me.

How I want to find out the great potential of you and me andsee all the good things we could do together.

How I want to see you grow into a father and then agrandfather.
And then maybe one day hold your hand as you pass on, because love
love means watching someone die.

I want to be the person on the sidelines of every sport or hobby you do
just so I can watch you get lost in the things you love.

Let me show you how I long to be there the next time you get sick
just so I canhold you tight,
rub your back and do nothing but take care of you all day.

I want to be the pillow you hold on to in the middle of thenight.

The pocket you put your hand in.

I want to be the clothes you wear just so I can be touchingyour skin always.

I want to know all your fears and then I want to go out anddestroy them for you.

I want to hear all your dreams and then I want to be the oneholding your hand,
standing next to you as you fulfill them.

Let me tell you how I pray everyday to take away yoursorrow, to carry it myself.

Let me tell you how crazy I felt falling so fast for you.

I want to be your forever and let me tell you how I finallyfound someone who I want to be my forever.

You want me to fight for you?

Then I will. I’ll come out with guns blazing as I take onthe entire world just so that I can run my fingers through your hair one moretime.

So that I can be the one you come home to.

I’ll fight every last fear and doubt just to renew yourfaith and kiss you,
one
last
time.

I will cross every desert, every ocean, every mountain,every frigid landscape to show you how I feel and do it again just to make sureyou know.

I’ll take on an army of blood thirsty rogues and die for youjust to prove that my heart
was always yours,

is always yours,

and will always be yours."

Do more

2012-01-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

I listened in on a private conversation over break and hadsome thoughts stirred up in my mind. How often do we get caught up in ourworlds of me and now? How often do we pass up the opportunity to play that gamewith a nephew, to bake those cookies with a niece’s help? How often do we hideaway in our rooms, not interacting with roommates, not calling that friend we haven’t seen in ages? How often do we not love fully or live completely?

So, do more.

Play a little longer, laugh… a whole lot more.

Make peace. Brush off every grudge or grievance.

Don’t regret anything.

Remember that no one is perfect, especially you.

Smile… always.

Put down the phone, the computer.
Walk outside.

Breathe in deeply and love every smell.

Squint your eyes and then open them wide, taking ineverything.

Write a million thank you notes and actually send them.

Think more. Ponder more. Meditate more.

Read one more chapter, and then another, and another.

Hug everyone. Embrace those you love more often.

Speak more softly, and a lot less. Listen more.

Care always. Do it all, love it all.

Take a walk outside, despite the freezing cold.
Especially in the freezing cold.
Go without a jacket just to feel the prickles in your skin
and love it.

Hold someone's hand

at least once a day.

Make it a new person each day.

Just hold on.

Be creative

Read a story

Write a story

Write a poem

Write a song

Take a lot of pictures

Good ones at least

Listen to music

Good music, and a lot of it

Remember the past so you can make tomorrow different. Andthank whatever God you believe in for giving you this day. He didn’t have to,and yet He did anyway.

So, love more.

Do more.

Happy New Year, 2012

2011-12-31T21:05:00.001-07:00

Sorry for being M.I.A. lately. The holidays hit, half of which was spent without cell service or internet access, so I'm far behind on blogging. I have been writing a lot though. Spent a fair amount of time wandering the past couple weeks, getting lost in the beauty of nature and the craziness of my wonderings and discoveries. Being with family has spurred much of it, being away from the selfishness of college has spurred the rest. Once I have refined all the poems I have written and all the random thoughts I have ventured I promise to share and I hope to hear your own responses.

I get to ring in the New Year with family once again, I wouldn't have it any other way. Might even go to bed early just so I can wake up early and play with my cute nephews. I think for once I will finally have some New Year's resolutions, though I won't call them that. They are just goals I have set for myself this next year. Most of which are personal, but all will make me a better me, and all will help me find out who "me" even is :) I will share one- I am hoping to run a marathon this year. Mainly because it will get me into shape and then also because it will get me back into the habit of running on a regular basis. Should be interesting... Hope you all have a great New Year's!

PS the photo is a picture of the sunset last night in Utah from the I-15. It was beautiful and sparked a bilion more ideas

Shh... (if you don't like scary stories, don't read)

2011-12-07T01:40:00.001-07:00

I have debated long and hard about whether or not to post this piece on my blog, but a lot of people have asked that I do so I will, maybe only for a short while. We'll see.

I took a creative writing class this semester and for Halloween we had a writing competition. I wrote a poem that won the scariest. I've never won anything in writing except for my essay in 6th grade for the D.A.R.E presentation. I don't think that one counted. So here is the first, legitimate piece that won me something. My prize was actually this nice picture frame, which was specifically chosen since this piece is about friends, it's kind of ironic honestly.

Don't Forget

"Shhh…

Can you hear it?

It’s the faint screaming

of the tortured soul.

The one that was stolen away

that night with five others.

Shh…

Can you hear it?

You wonder why it’s sofamiliar sounding?

It’s your own scream

escaping from your crackedand bleeding lips

as your body hangs

But no one else can hear you

You’re miles away from anytown

with only me to keep youcompany

Shh...

We’re in this together

We’ll escape together

Do you remember how you gothere?

No? I’ll tell you.

I was there watching it allhappen

You and five of your friendswere coming

home from a weekend trip

Everything was fine untilyou started telling

stories and awoke the wickedcreature

that roams the reservationborders.

He was trapped in a cornerafter his death.
His soul could not leave this world so he is

forever tormented to roamthe earth

Never to taste freedom

Only to cling to hisvictim’s dying breath

as if it is his own.

Shh,,,

Let me tell you whathappened

You ran out of gas threehours out of Tuba City

You’re kids and rather thanflag down a passing car,

which there were none,

you decided to camp out forthe night.

You naïve suckling

Late hours into the night

the six growing cold

your friend left to gathermore wood.

The five gathering in close

to steal one another’s heat

Shh…

Do you remember the sound?

The rustling?

It’s coming closer

Behind you

In front of you

Right next to you

That’s when you saw theeyes,

The glowing, crimson bloodeyes

He’s been watching, waitingfor you to drift off

into that foolish escape youcall dreams

Dreams ha

After you see his eyes younotice the rest of him

He’s tall, big, muscular

but his skin hangs on him

as if it’s not his own.

His fingers are boney

his fingernails short andraw

as if he’s just scratchedhis way

out of a dark hole

where they bury thedesperate lost ones.

His breathing is deep andraspy

like he’s been breathing indirt

from the living tomb hesleeps in.

It’s quick as if he’s beenrunning all night

but he hasn’t,

he’s only been there a fewmoments

called forth by your foolishstories of spirits.

But his hunger for releaseriles his breath.

It riles his yearning

He looks at you. The curveof your body.

The freshness of your skin.

His blood pulses in hisveins, his muscles

throbbing to touch.

To caress.

Blood drips from his eyes ashe stands there naked,

with his long, brown mattedhair

Shh…

Remember what happens next?

Remember the bitter cold airthat crawls over you,

from your toes to yourcalves,

around your knees andthighs, past your hips and stomach,

across your chest andwrists, up your arms to your shoulders

clutching at your skin as itgrasps your face.

The hair on your body standson end

You don’t realize what’shappening till it’s already done

You don’t hear your own voicebefore it’s over

Watch as he creeps acrossthe way,

through the fire

Watch as he grabs yourfriend’s leg

and begins peeling back herskin like wrapping paper.

Shh…

you’ll soon forget the soundof her agonized scream

You’ll soon forget the scenethat unfolded next as she bled

from every part of her bodyafter he ripped the skin

from her and draped it onhis shoulders.

You’ll soon forget he thentook her to a tree

and hung her from a branch.

Remember how he came backfor the others?

And for you?

How each time he pulled theskin from their faces

their eyes met yours andpleaded for release.

For an escape from thisdemon

His eyes

His eyes

His eyes as they bled withejaculation cried the same plea.

His chest heaving withecstasy as he stole their breath

calling it his own.

Shh…

Can you see the river?

The rippling red riverunderneath

their bodies as they hungfrom the aching wood?

Can you see his danglingfinger

as he scratches the symbolsin the dirt beneath the tree?

Those symbols

His raw fingers

His arched back

Why didn’t you run?

Why did you stay and watch?

Shh…

It’s almost over

You should have run. Butmaybe

he still would have foundyou

maybe you didn’t want tokeep on living with these images

haunting you for eternity.

It’s ok, I’ll help youforget

just like he helped me toforget.

Shh…

Hold still as I erase thosememories

I should have sent you toget more firewood

then you would see what hesees,

what I see

Then you would learn toforget

to just do as he does.

You don’t want to?

Ok then.

Hold still.

It stings at first but I’llbe quick,

quicker than he so you won’tfeel it

for too long.

As I tear think of somethingelse

Think of your family and how

I know where they live.

You should have ran.

Why didn’t you?

Shh…

Can you finally hear it?

It’s you screaming."

Come What May

2011-11-19T00:36:00.001-07:00

This is a poem about me.
Wait, no. This is a poem about you.
This is a poem about you
and all the things I will do
to prove to you
that I will fight for you no matter what happens.
Come what may and love it, they say.
Come what may and I will fight it!
I will tear down every brick of those walls they throw up,
break through every barrier they force in our way,
destroy the barbed wire fence of rules and "musts"
and scar my hands on the thorns of every voice in my head
that says I can't.
When every stinging nettle of doubt pricks up from this path we wander on
I will go before you to keep your feet from bleeding;
from the bitter poison of fear that seeps into your skin
and lingers in your soul.
I will hack my way through the army of "never's" and "not now's,"
sludge through the grasping swamps whose wicked vapor settles on your heart
and smothers your pulse with the worry of dreams never seen.
I promise to stave off whatever aching pains and harrowing sorrows will come into your life;
to cut down the giants of empty yesterdays and unfulfilled tomorrows.
All the while standing next to you
to prove to you
that come what may,
I will fight for you.

Angels Landing

2011-11-16T22:39:00.001-07:00

Finally hiked it. Was exhausted by the time we got back down, but felt so accomplished and fulfilled. Wish I could hike it ever day

And yes I hiked all the way back barefoot :) Highly recommend it. Great weekend, love Zion, love Southern Utah. Nature is just too gorgeous to take for granted.

Grandbaby #9

2011-11-14T15:42:00.001-07:00

Is a boy!

Congrats to Fern & Josh and big sister Adeline

2011-11-04T18:52:00.000-06:00

This is what I get to do at work sometimes:

Build awesome things and play with kids

Oh BYU

2011-11-02T12:00:00.000-06:00

Yes I would love it if you stopped in the middle of the small, narrow staircase as hordes of stampeding students are leaving and going to class and begin walking up these very same said narrow stairs Yes I would love it if you decide to stand there stoic without moving with that innocent look on your face because you have just ran in to a good friend who you cannot wait to catch up with on life hence the immediate plantation of your feet into this marble floor worn down from years upon years of students treading across them. Yes I would love it if you act defensive like you have every right to stand there in complete shock and excitement of running into this friend whom you probably actually just saw two weeks ago but you act like it has been forever and are completely entitled to hold up the entire student populace while you spend your 30 seconds of fortune and exchange pleasantries with the other unintelligent person who chose to also stand there in feigned innocence and tell you about the girl, the sports, the schoolwork, the work work, etc. Please continue to stand there as we all wait patiently to get by with our raised eyebrows and accusing looks. You have every right to stand there. You have every right to keep us all from our work schedules, to make us late to class. No, no, please, do continue your conversation and act like the bro's that you are. I've got all day to stand here trying to politely squeeze past you and make it to my next appointment without being late. Don't worry, we all understand, it's all about you.

Oh BYU.

Poetry

2011-11-01T14:33:00.001-06:00

I've been on a poetry kick lately. It began with a poetry reading a...month?....ago Wait, wait, wait. It actually began when that one time my mom told me to write poetry and I put those two poems up on here. From there I began sharing my words with a few friends, whose enthusiasm sparked my own and whose compliments gave me hope for success. Then there was the poetry reading, and finally a friend who writes more often than I do, and probably about cooler things.

I want to share some videos by poets who blow me away. Their words and their performances are amazing and I love what they do and who they are and just everything about these poems. Enjoy!

Also, check out my friend Dave's blog here

The Most Amazing Slam Poet

by Peter Nevland

Love Poem
by Rudy Francisco

My Honest Poem
by Rudy Francisco

Ick

2011-10-27T14:08:00.001-06:00

Ick
It's that feeling in my gut
The bitter taste in my mouth
The rank smell in my nose
The white noise in my head
This foreboding of something unwanted
coming towards me
It's that worry that I've misplaced something
the worry that I've missed the picture
that I've been blinded to the fault
of what really is
and not what I want to see.
It festers and grows
ravenous and insatiable,
eating out my insides,
seeking out that sliver of peace
I hold within me.
Unsure of how to face it
I lie here waiting for the light to come
and show me what I could not see before.
Or maybe what I would not
nor wanted to
see.

Navajo Bridge

2011-10-20T15:24:00.000-06:00

One time we were driving home from Hannah's graduation last May and we stopped at the Navajo Bridge to look over the Grand Canyon. We use to stop here all the time when I was a kid

Yay for bathroom breaks. Except these toilets are really just holes in the ground and you can feel the air blowing beneath you. I still get scared to use them

Adeline's first encounter with the Navajo Bridge and the Grand Canyon

Southern Utah is by far one of the most beautiful places on earth

It was really windy, if you couldn't tell

The following picture is by far my most favorite picture of the year, so far

Tehehe

Matchy sandals with my baby

I love her. The end

The After Effects

2011-10-12T23:49:00.000-06:00

Remember that really fun mocktail birthday party? Well this is what your hair looks like after having it curled, teased, put up so beautifully by an awesome friend, and then after you run around looking pretty for 3 hours go dancing for another two, followed by hot cocoa at 7-11, and then youtube videos snuggled up on the couch until *cough 2am *cough:

Just another Friday night in the college life of my friends and me. Was the 'fro worth it? You bet, I had great hair alllllll the next day on Saturday :)

Mocktail Birthday Party

2011-10-12T16:38:00.000-06:00

Mocktail Party- a reason to dress up fancy and drink sparkling cider and eat key lime pie, yep key lime pie

Oh and to use our fancy, cool cameras to take awesome photos...

Levi in the wonderful armchair that graces their living room along with the wonderful record player that was very much in use on this memorable evening

The birthday boy, Morgan, looking dapper as always

The beautiful Jamie and me bonding over pina colada drinks and all too similar past experiences

Oh Sam, looking right at home

The adorable couple JJ and Nicole; adore and respect the heck out of these two!

Kali and a new friend Tiffany suddenly realizing they've met before...in Seattle?

Laura and Ryley's wife being camera shy, but making a great photo with all those wonderful colors

Cake pops!

Never fails that these boys always get photos of me either in mid-sentence or eating something

Yes, the snake was rented as well

Don't forget the other cute couple- Jamie and Morgan

Yes this was a fixture on the coffee table. Yes you can rent, rent! animals from the Bean Museum on BYU campus, so of course the boys needed a lion head

Ryley

It took us five tries to get a "serious photo" (be like pioneers everyone!), Nicole is still about to laugh but we finally managed one!

photography by Max Daines

It's a "big sweatshirt" kind of day

2011-10-11T15:31:00.002-06:00

It has been a miracle that I haven't been sick yet this semester, especially since there were a number of weeks with late nights and not the greatest nutrition, but I survived thus far. Until last week. Last week may possibly have been the week sent from the devil's spawn in hopes of thwarting my all existence into total chaos. It is my absolute belief that college professors have a meeting before school begins, before the syllabi are printed off, before room assignments are even made, where they decide which week they want to make every student absolutely suffer (besides finals week of course). They must chuckle quietly to themselves as they parry back and forth trying to get all of their midterms to fall into the same week too. It is a murderous business that they bandy with.

And so last week consisted of a test in my Family History class, an exam in British Literary History (which was no small feat- you try memorizing which Romantic poet said what in which poem and why on earth why!), on top of which we also had a 5-page paper due in the same class, plus another paper due in Creative Writing (which may be the class I work my hardest in and try my best in), and don't forget the take-home exam that was due in my Mission Prep class. My "aha" moment came last week on Saturday around 4pm when I had that 5-pager due at 6pm and I had yet to begin it. I realized there was no way I would finish it by staying at home, so I trudged up to campus, locked myself in at work (great place to study, no distractions with everyone coming in and out like at the library) and wrote straight for an hour and a half, wherein I finished the paper and ran upstairs to drop off. That was my "aha" moment when I remembered "Oh yeah, this is why I chose English" :)

Once the stress finally died down of that wonderfully hellatious week I guess my body decided to break down too. No more need to force myself to stay healthy and active. Now here I am on a beautiful fall Tuesday morning with gunk in my nose and a scratchy throat. The body aches are starting to set in too, but I am pretending that I do not feel them, if I do they just might actually become real and begin to take over my already viciously exhausted body. It is a sorry state of denial, but oft times believing you are sick is the only reason why you truly are. So I am telling myself it is only a little cold, something trifle and easily taken care of with insubordinate amounts of water, orange juice, lots of vitamin-C and a ton of Emergen-C. I should probably go buy some of all that then, hmmm...I've only got water at home...

And so this beautifully treacherous fall day was begun with pulling out my "sick" outfit- the biggest, old-school style Brigham Young University sweatshirt I could possibly own. It has survived five winters of Utah cold, one semester of a sinus infection and tonsilitus, a Christmas with a cold so bad that I had to take horse-sized pills of anitbiotics (so big I had to cut them in half to swallow), several runny noses, a number of despondent days after break ups, and a great amount of lazy days watching movies and procrastinating the need-to-be-done homework.

Yep, it's a "big sweatshirt" kind of day

Sleep

2011-09-30T02:03:00.002-06:00

I don't sleep well anymore; if at all. The nights are hot in our AC-less home. Mosquitos creep through my screen-less window invading my slumber with obnoxious buzzing in my ear. I wake up with countless red spots. Both from them and spiders that find their way in between my covers. My blankets are usually in the most absurd, tangled mess about my legs. Pillows crammed in between sheets or tossed onto the floor. My dreams leave me with a sick feeling in my stomach and my head throbs from the tossing and turning and endless array of thoughts that pervade my already exhausted brain.

Waking up is not so much a chore as it is a lunge from a world of nightmarish fog into a world of walking pandemonium. I spend my days wanting nothing but rest. To lie down; to collapse into that cocoon of peace and serenity. But when night does finally fall and my mind realizes the lateness of the hour I find myself begrudging the task ahead. It's worse than a task, it's that attic in every house that everyone avoids because cleaning it out would only create a larger mess. I sit at my desk condemning my bed with hateful stares. He, who should be a friend, has become my enemy in my search for tranquility.

Once I can no longer find anything with which to distract myself, I crawl up onto my mattress and feel it bite back. Determined to fight against my aching body and tortured soul, he provides no warmth or comfort. When I finally nestle down in it is only under deceptive terms. He laughs a wicked cackle and then shifts just so that my muscles lose their relaxed setting and I'm thrown back into a rolling mess of blankets and frustrating mind games.

I fear going to sleep. I don't want to know what cursed nightmares my mind has in store for me. What masquerading dreams it will weave. Once upon a time I had to listen to music every night to help me sleep and it is suddenly as if those wretched days have returned. I try to fall asleep to those soothing notes again, but constantly wake up fearing the sound is too loud or in annoyance to go slam it off.

My mind and heart wage an epic battle within my soul and my ability for comprehension is almost obliterated. I walk as if in a state of constant war within my body. I don't understand it. I cannot understand it. In the end though, I feel as if I don't want to understand it. I pray this time will pass and things will measure themselves out and smooth away. But what denial is that. What grave misunderstanding do I hold in my hands. Ignoring it makes it bigger. Pushing it aside makes it stronger. Leaving it alone makes it wiser.

But what is it? What starves me from sleep?

Nephew #5

2011-09-30T00:31:00.001-06:00

Liam Alexander Wallace

He is stinking cute! And even cuter when his big brother Eli is holding him :)

Miss them

2011-09-29T15:59:00.000-06:00

Miss this little cutie so much.

But Seattle looks gorgeous and I'm sure they are loving it up there

I know these people

2011-09-29T15:37:00.001-06:00

And I like their music. They are just a fun band to go listen and jam to. And of course the most talented people show up to play at their open mic nights at their home, christened the Avocottage.