Every year, we are lucky enough to have the Summerfest family festival explode in our front yard. This year’s theme was Cruisin’ Back to the 50’s. Booth owners (non-prof) all try to outdo each other with their themed decorations.


My husband and I were asked by the lady running the show to help hang ten original concert posters in a storefront window. And he to stage manage Friday night at the main stage. We’d do anything for Sue.

There’s fire engine rides and bouncy rides and pony rides. Three different stages, a sand sculpture and play area, and plenty of food and political parties hawking their candidates. Plus cool old cars and fireworks to cap off the end of the festivities Saturday night. All of which I can hear and see from my house here on the Green.


The weather was so incredibly mild this year that the attendance was actually down. And on Sunday, Ms. Sue comes knocking on our door for a cup of Joe and retrieves my child. It’s his yearly job to destroy the sand sculpture before the backhoe gets there. And we got fresh free sand for the sandbox.

So on Sunday, Fiona and Eamon and I hung out on the now emptied Green and played with sidewalk chalk and climbed trees. It was a lovely weekend in the neighborhood. It was Summerfestive.

Creative Caretakers

It suddenly occurred to me what me and two other women bloggers I know have in common. Each of us strives to care-take and feed our families with passion and creativity. We love our role and these goals yet we do not feel the love for the term or fit the recognized role of “housewife”. We are a new breed of Mom.

Creative Caretakers.

Valuing our care of ourselves and our families, we don’t fit the cookie cutter mold of the minivan crowd catering snacks to sporting events and home-good selling parties. And that makes us a little weird. A bit like “those other people”.

Creative Caretakers from

But we will also be the first ones to hold our judgement and offer our support to anyone who is having a bad parenting day. Because this is a tough ungrateful job. And there’s no meritorious awards or service reviews. There’s just more unrelenting heartache, poop, and trouble. Housewifery ain’t what it used to be. Or what the media made it out to be.And doing it with humor and heart is all we’ve got.

1st day of school on Creative Caretakers on

And yet, deep down, without all the worry about what others may think and keeping up with the Jones’, it’s still exactly what it always really was : an unsung unglamorous heroine’s job to creatively take care of the future of the world and keep ourselves happy too. I am what I am.

Love and Fear

After my blog homework is done, I often pop in and out of the interwebs riding a whim or a tickle of interest. Like a butterfly, I alight and gather some dew from the flowers I find. And last week, I landed at a post by a blogger named La Toya Burton of twelve22design which has had me thinking. In her series “Lessons: The Golden Threads Picked Up Along the Way {Remembering}”, She suggested that there’s one of two forces working within us at any given time.

There’s love or there’s fear. 

I have been pondering the simple truths of love and fear since I read her piece.

One Way from Love and Fear on

“If you come from a place of love”, I said loudly to my son who was sitting in the back seat, “then you can be generous and happy and creative and satisfied. The world is a good place and the people you meet are there for a reason.”

“If you come from a place of fear, it’s all bad. Fearful people can be angry and can overcompensate for their fear by controlling and bragging and bullying. They take from their world and live in a vacuum.”

In my life, I waffle between the two states as surely many others do. And I can feel it as I slip into fear. I am afraid the money won’t be there when the appliance goes up. I fear I’ll have no time to get done what I need to accomplish. I’m scared that the world isn’t going to sustain itself and will starve or blow up or die somehow. I worry that I’m not doing enough or the best or the right thing. Or that the ancient Toyota I’m driving around in will break down somewhere with the children and me in the hot sun for hours. Regular fear stuff.

Si from Love and Fear on

Yet in love, I can conceive of ways to fix said appliance or get a used one until I’m able to replace it. I can ask for help and hands to get done what I need done and not be trapped under the “I can’ts”. I can volunteer to feed the homeless and not watch the news. I can be OK with doing my best and letting go of the rest as so many people do everyday as they allow for their humanity. And I can make sure my cell phone is charged and my gas tank is full.

Lastly, I can hug and kiss my children and tell them I love them and put all of us to bed with full bellies and clean bodies on clean sheets knowing that I did the best job I could in the life I’ve chosen. I love my life. Even if it sometimes is a little scary. Because the opposite of fear is faith and hard work people.

(La Toya’s lovely  Lesson #7 on Laughter is here)

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And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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