Eating Art

maurice sendak

So, I just read a story of Maurice Sendak, the great children’s author/illustrator. He talked about the highest compliment he was ever paid as an author. A little boy had sent him a very thoughtful letter. It was particularly wonderful, and so Mr. Sendak drew him a picture, and sent it.

His mother sent back a thank you, gushing about how much it meant to her son. Her words, “He carried the picture with him everywhere he went. But, eventually, he just couldn’t stand it, and he ATE the picture. He loved it THAT much.”

Maurice marveled at how much that hand-drawn picture could have fetched if the family had decided to sell it. At the very least, it could have been framed and kept forever. But the very act of what this boy did showed his love and appreciation better than any of those more “normal” reactions.

I seriously love this more than I’ve loved any story in a long time. As I drink my morning coffee this morning, I pondered it. WHAT do I love about this so much? Which part?


I think that’s it. This little Art-Eater is ON FIRE about life. ON FIRE. When I walked the road this morning, I think I can understand, or at least come close to the feeling of ON FIRE. I understand loving what you see SO much….you want it to be inside of your body…you want to join with it.

If I could, I would eat the blue sky with the wispy clouds that make me think of a fancy dress. I would devour the tall wildflowers, and gobble up the rich earth that smells like God.

It’s how I want to live my life. Eating the ART that is everywhere I look.

The Prodigal Writer

No, this isn't MY SPACE. I tried every which way to take a SELFIE. I gave up. Resorted to ole' phone in the mirror trick.

No, this isn’t MY SPACE. I tried every which way to take a SELFIE. I gave up. Resorted to ole’ phone in the mirror trick.

Knock knock! Anybody home? I know I’ve been gone for a bit….where IS everyone? It’s like a ghost town around here!

Wow. I have some work to do. I need to go find my friends!!

I’m kinda scared.


FRIENDS!!! Yoooooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!

To be continued in the following edition, entitled: Lisa returns, for better or worse.

Teacher Boy

Teach me how to do that.

To stand alone and face your fear head on. Continue reading

We Belong to Each Other

beautiful kids If we have no peace, it’s because we’ve forgotten we belong to each other. -Mother Theresa Continue reading

Be Still My Heart


Hugh as Wolverine. Super cool guy.

les misHugh in Les Mis. Like OMG.

hugh jackmanHugh’s words.  I’ve just fainted.

hugh jackman picHe’s off the charts for me now. OFF. THE. CHARTS.

Pay attention men. Watch and learn.

There’s More than One way to sing Adele

Dear Readers, You know how I’ve gone mostly to Facebook…cuz I can get my writing done lickety split? It’s good, and quick….but it’s like the microwave version of writing.

I love baked potatoes out of the oven. The skin gets shiny and perfect, and the inside is like mashed potatoes at Sunday Dinner. When you stick a spud in the microwave though? It’s mushy. Yes, you can eat it in 5 minutes, but is it worth it?

I usually decide that unless I have an hour for the oven, I skip out on the tator all together.

I just can’t seem to decide what I’m doing: Facebook, or WordPress? I noticed another blogger called…”We are THAT family“. She has over 10,000 likes on Facebook, and her blog is pretty famous. But even she often gets just a handful of LIKES on posts, videos or statuses that she writes. It seems like people use Facebook for quick scans, but not for reading anything longer than the paragraph on the back of a cereal box.

Take this awesome video: I promise you, it would not get ONE like. And seriously, how amazing is this?! Sing baby girls, SING!

It leads me to wonder…is Facebook like Quickie Sex, and WordPress like making love? Could I possibly come up with more metaphors besides ovens and sex?

To be continued…………………………….

It’s not Croquet, but it’s pretty cool.

Gage Flandreau 2012

So, that’s my Middler, there in the orange and black. He’s “shooting“…which means, he’s going for the other guy’s legs. Then he goes on to “break him down“, and eventually “Pins” him. I put all the technical wrestling words in quotes for you, because until I had boys that wrestled, they were very technical to me. I look at these words…Shooting. Breaking down. Pin. Hmmm. Very harsh, you know? As my husband likes to say, “Well, it’s not croquet, Lis.”

No. No indeedy.

But what is it exactly? My friend and I, fellow wrestling Mamas who put in a lot of time together on bleachers, have mused over this subject so often. We face quite a bit of judgment from others that know nothing about the sport of wrestling. When I had a nasty case of the sniffles a couple of weeks back, and was couchbound, I put in one of my favorite comfort movies: A Knight’s Tale with the gorgeous and dead Heath Ledger. I realized that wrestling these days is almost a little like jousting was hundreds of years ago: not for the faint of heart, and practiced by boys that are brave and noble. (Well, I would say 98% of them noble. You get a few bad apples, but you could get those in croquet, too. Have you ever seen those mallets? Put that with an angry Croquet-er…and….)

Well, anyway. My point is this: it takes incredible self-confidence and courage to go one on one with an opponent, and know that some of them are so good they can bend you into the shape of a pretzel. My boy takes this risk every time he walks out onto the mat. And so does the Littlest, by the way. But 6 year-old wrestling is much less intense than 11-12 year old wrestling, for the simple fact that many of the small ones never even end up catching each other.

My son just qualified to go the state tournament that will take place in a couple of weeks. I was so proud of him that I nearly broke the sound barrier with my scream.  I’ve told him time and time again how much he inspires me with his bravery. I’ve watched him work hard at practices, tournaments, with his Dad here at home; and his never give up spirit makes me sing. I feel like I need to go on record about this sport that so many “don’t get“.

The day of the Regionals, the day that the top 3 kids out of many would be chosen to go to State out of each weight bracket was a long and grueling day.

This was Gage’s bracket from Districts, where he got 1st place. The order of tournaments goes: Districts, Regionals, State.

We arrived to Britton, SD in typical nasty SD winter weather, only to wait outside for about 20 minutes in line.


These folks are NOT the happiest of campers.

We spent roughly 11 hours in the gym, my son wrestling 5 matches about 2 hours apart. We know these kids that my boy had to wrestle, because most of them, he’s been wrestling all year at different tournaments around the state. We know the parents, too. After winning his first two matches, Middler went into the semi-finals. All he had to do was win his third match, and would be guaranteed a ticket to State.

He was winning, right up until he lost.

Phooey. (That’s the G-rated version)

Now he had to win 2 more matches to get 3rd at Regionals. (Remember, only the top 3 get to go on to State)

He won his next match pretty easily, but we knew the second match would be much more tricky. Middler had to wrestle a boy he’s wrestled often, and the pair of them are very evenly matched. It could go either way. Right before the match began, the father of the opponent, the one my boy would be wrestling for that Third Place Spot, came up to my husband and son. He genuinely wished them good luck, and said some other nice things to my boy, as well. Of course he wanted HIS boy to win, but he wanted to show Gage, my Middler, that he respected him as a wrestler, and he sincerely wanted him to wrestle his best.

My boy won. And one of the first things he said, was that he wished his opponent could be going to State, too. He didn’t want to knock him out of the tournament. Gage respected the boys he wrestled: the ones he beat, as well as the boys he lost to.

THAT is what this sport is about. As the boys stood to accept their medals, another parent said to the boys at large: “Good job boys. ALL of you. What a FINE group of boys.”

Gage 3rd in Regionals
Gage is in black, 3rd down. What you can’t see on his face is his intense happiness. He’s tricky like that♥

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

If you go to a wrestling match, you may see things that make you judge it harshly. But if you look carefully, you’ll see boys wrestle their hearts out, and sometimes HUG each other after the match and big brothers hugging sad little brothers who just lost.  You’ll see parents that encourage kids that AREN’T even theirs. You may see a Father’s eyes fill with tears of pride for his son who just got the honor of winning Third Place at Regionals, and who gets to go on to wrestle for the State Championship for the first time.

I saw all of that, and I’ll never forget it.



I’m working my way back to you, babe

everything carries me

I am. Getting. Closer.

I get a few of my favorite people in my email, and every time it makes me long for my Word Press days. When I actually put my thoughts out for everyone to see. Back then, I had so many thoughts that just had to have a platform. HAD to.

I’ve noticed that I still have so many thoughts, but I’m enjoying keeping them to myself. Dreams, revelations (some really quite shocking), and many light bulb moments. Like a great big pot of Lentil stew, all the different ideas are simmering. And if you try to take a bite too soon, you’ll get a crunchy lentil and it’ll be completely disappointing.  I’m not ready to let them out just yet. They are still cooking. Which reminds me of my Middler, when he was a baby. He was very quiet, unless crying from hunger or wanting to be held. I had been used to the baby babble of my Firstborn. She talked all the time, with inflection so precise, I knew exactly what she was saying in her own made up language. To me, it was as if her motto was, “So what? I may not have English down to a Science yet, but that won’t stop me from expressing myself.”

When my Middle born son, all the sudden, out of nowhere started talking in complete sentences, I was flabbergasted. It turns out he wasn’t the strong silent type after all. He was just making dang sure he was going to get this talking thing right before blabbing away. His little brain had been working on it; perfecting it. *Sidenote: Littlest is a perfect mix of the older two, but by far and away the one with the most words in his mouth.

So, I’m the Middler right now. I started out like Firstborn, as some of my loyal readers know. But I’m progressing to Middler, and will hopefully end up like Littlest: a perfect blend of both. Does that make sense?

Well, I sure hope so. I miss the wonderful personalities here on Word Press. To those of you who have found me on Facebook, thank you so much! For now, it’s working well for me to just write a paragraph or two with no strings attached. It’s the Microwave version of Lentil Stew.

Love to you all, and I hope to see you soon!

P.S. I’m really sorry about those nasty awful Lentil Stew metaphors. I just made a huge pot, and I can smell it wafting from the kitchen.

Carr, Lisa Carr

Pussy Galore

Pussy Galore (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, it’s happened again. I’ve had an epiphany. I’ve gone over it in my mind: Why am I having such a hard time blogging? And the conclusion I woke up to this very morning, sipping coffee and looking out over mountains of powdery snow in my backyard? (I’ll tell you, but I’m trying to decide whether to give you the reason straight up…or make it cooler with a metaphor). Continue reading

Love is Louder

For 5 minutes, in a busy mall filled with shoppers wielding credit cards and bags, retail in all its glittery glory took a backseat. As one of my favorite bloggers, Dan Pearce of Single Dad Laughing would say, “Love is Louder!” Bravo to the brave men and women for helping us to remember the true meaning of this holiday. Merriest of Christmases to all my friends and family! Here’s to a beautiful new year filled with love and happiness♥ Love, Lis