Friday, June 29, 2012

The exchange went like this as Teresa and I walked into a store:

Clerk; " Are you ladies out shopping today."

Me: " No we are having our hair dyed right now"

Clerk: "well fun for you!"

Mom: "that wasn't nice"

Me: "I have no tolerance for blatant stupidity, and besides she didn't even get it! My response was wasted, should have said, here's your sign"

Dear 2013 maybe during your year I can work on being nice to blatant stupidity.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

June 28: one year ago today I boarded a plane with Kenza {my trusty french bulldog} and in typical Monica Kate fashion, showed up at my parent's house unannounced. Kenza ran in first and scared my mom half to death, then one look at me and she was in tears-my mom not Kenza- because she knew what me being in Utah meant, I had left my husband. It was a difficult day, it was a day that changed me forever. It was a day when I felt brave and strong, and broken and confused. {it should be noted that this wasn't a flippant decision because he forgot to make the bed, this was one that was made after months of hitting walls on multiple fronts with no resolution, divorce should never be your first choice} One year later I find it so so odd that I am once again at my parent's house. 9914 N. 4000 W. and I am such a different person. I am content and at peace and I no longer lie awake and question. I love what I have learned about me and about people. I know now that there is life after making the hard decisions. And not just life, but adventure, and love, and wonder. Adventure in the simple, adventure in the close, adventure in the unknown. Love for others, love for self, and a healing so that love love isn't a fear anymore. Wonder in the beginning of a new chapter, wonder in how 365 days can go so fast and feel like an eternity all at the same time. I cannot say I would wish to do this again, but I will always hold this specific year as such a marvelous one because amidst the tears on the kitchen floor, and the mornings of not wanting to face the day, the lawyers, and courts, and papers, and loosing my friend, I found parts of me that were lost, parts of me I never knew were there, and above all one year later I am a better person for making a hard decision and I am at peace. I am far from done, far from perfect, far from blameless or ready or complete, but, one year later and I am smiling because I am standing on 2 feet and no longer in need of tears on the kitchen floor.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Dear Utah,

When we are together my lips are chapped, my hands are dry and cracked, and I feel like a geriatric in need of oxygen for the first couple days. You're lucky you're pretty.


MK

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Skewed:When I was 18 I had my wisdom teeth out in response to an add I heard on the radio, it was free if I took their experimental drugs....I didn't tell anyone. When I was 21 I turned in my mission papers....without telling anyone. I broke an arm, got stitches, had surgeries, and I didn't tell anyone. At first I thought, "look at me I am so independent" however, as time goes on I am beginning to realize my definition of "independent" was/is skewed. I am indepenent that much is true, but I am also realizing and rather enjoying the crucial importance of people and more so letting people into your life. Being vulnerable, letting people share with you in your successes and flops. Letting people see the pretty as well as the real. Needing people without being needy, understanding that helping is noble, but asking for help is just as important. Distancing yourself to save face in times of ruin is not always the brave or independent decision. And, quite often relationships even suffer when one finds out the other kept them in the dark. How different I think things would be if I had let people in just a little bit more, if I had asked and told and included and not tried to go so far alone. How I do love my life but I wonder. Nothing in life is meant to be alone. Trees grow in great forrests, birds travel in marvelous flocks, even fungus, algae and bacteria find themselves surrounded by like kind. How silly for me to think I can avoid what even the simplest species thrive on.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Process: I am an odd duck if you will. I don't profess to be special or different {I realize every human contains some thing that makes them special and different so I just fit in the mix} but I really adore the process. I adore the schooling that led to the degrees, I adore the friendships that have led to my loves, I adore the work that has gone into my various homes, and this past week I have adored every minute of preparing for my darling sisters wedding. My hands are so chapped from all the washing to ensure no germs were transfered in the cooking process, my eyes are blood shot because we all worked so hard round the clock from Thurs-Sunday, my feet-while lovely thanks to a sisters' pedicure-are so tired from standing on these dang tile floors, my hair is in much need of washing :) -they turned the city water off mid shower today-,and I wouldn't have it any other way!!! Here is a bit of the process...
{half of the cake spread waiting for the reception, up close on the peaches and cream cake}
{the feet are fancy...tourquoise per Hannah's request, the hands...not so much}
{the wedding cake and 400/800 raspberry macarons}
{centerpieces and the family luncheon table}

{some of the over 20 dozen eggs I used this weekend and coconut macarons}

{Dance Party Bridal Shower}

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Historical Error: Aristotle at one moment believed the heart to be the center of the mental process. Aristotle must have been a woman! I say so because I am running into more difficulty than I imaged in my almost 30's in trying to understand men. So without detail and boring stories suffice it to say Aristotle must have been a woman because no man that I have met makes a decision with his heart. Logic prevails thus continuing the ever present gap between men and women.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Awe:I am always amazed at the capacity we have to be great. My weekend was a quick trip to the market, packing for my upcoming trip to Utah, church, and then Sunday night I attended a funeral for a friend. I just sat and listened, I laughed and held back tears. I knew him but not as well as some. Now the capacity to be great I mentioned above was not mine but my friend's, my weekend was easy compared to Andy's. Wednesday Andy was rocked more than most by the news because, the man who had died was his best friend. The moment he heard the news he dropped everything and headed to his friend's home to comfort his family. Over the next 72 hours he made the funeral plans, wrote the obituary, consoled a distraught mother, celebrated his own 29th birthday, gave a best man's speech at another friend's wedding, and was the first speaker at the funeral. We spoke briefly as he made the 6 hour drive from wedding venue to funeral home. He himself could not begin to process everything that had just happened. The wrestle between loss and love and emotion and strength I am sure was one of, if not the, most difficult to date for him. A few hours later I sat and listened to him deliver his speech, celebrating the life of a friend snuffed too soon, he was calm and collected. He made us laugh for 15 minutes straight and remained miraculously strong. I was in awe at his greatness; the ability he had to make sense of it all. What a weekend for my dear friend. I can call, and I can pray, I can offer advice and sympathize till my phone dies, but grief and pain and life and death are those roads where we feel every step and remember every vivid detail and while there are other travelers, we must process it ourselves. Today, I sat in awe as my dear friend made sense of the chaos that had fallen on his road.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Gary:He is the quiet man in the background never taking center stage who loves his family more than life itself and would do anything for his 4 girls, 1 son, and wonderful wife. Whenever I drink red cream soda, smell exhaust and oil, or see a riding lawn mower, I think of him. Whenever I hear Lionel Ritchie, see a man in military uniform, or eat an onion ring, I think of him. Whenever I pass a hot rod, hear a train whistle, or watch Home Alone, I think of him. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to stretch before a run -I was 3 the video is darling- , how to build a fire, how to work, paddle a canoe, change a tire, tie my shoes, make a bed, mow a lawn. He taught me by every day example how to love and be kind. When I was 12 a woman came to my dad's shop to pick up her mini-van, the bill was substantially higher than she had expected and she looked at him with deep sorrow ..... knowing she couldn't pay the tab I watched as he logged into her invoice and adjusted the parts, and labor so much that the bill was almost gone. He had a family of his own to provide for but never once let circumstance overshadow his kindness. On Sundays my thoughts usually turn towards God, with today being Father's Day, my thoughts are turned towards Gary Moore, my dad. My father who sends me silly texts, and who calls just to say he loves me. My Dad who makes me proud to be a daddy's girl, proud to be Moore, and who is the best example I can fathom, of how much God must love his children. I love you Dad.
Unknown:While in Amsterdam I was so curious about these tulips you always hear about. I arrived after the official tulip season so I didn't see the fields popping with vibrant color, or get to bring any home for my own garden {oh wait I live in a basement apt. in DC....I don't have a garden}, but I did get a few moments in the flower market. Now why that story? well it has little to do with my thought but I thought of it while in that market. Each flower had a label. On the label it described: when to plant the flower, where to plant the flower, how much light it needed, how much water it needed. It told you how tall the plant would be, when it would flower, what color the flower would be, and how to preserve the plant for the next season. How I wish people both friend people and relationship material people came with labels. It would make this a whole lot less painful. I read those labels and I trusted everything they said. It is different and difficult with people, to be vulnerable enough to trust everything, to trust what they say. I can tell you that I don't have a temper, I am very loyal, I am honest, I am shy, I don't need a lot of time but I do need your full attention with the time I do get time, I am confident, I am independent, I am happy, I am driven........but do you really believe me? Are you sure you aren't listening to the advice of others or your own fear just a little bit, the fear that tells you in a month or 2 or 10 I'll go crazy, shut off, stop caring but be really needy? Wouldn't it just be easier if we had labels that said all those same things, so that way we knew? We could just pick and choose our friends and relationships with guaranteed satisfaction. No surprises, just results if we did as the instructions said. No trust necessary. Oh this silly life we lead, it requires so much faith, so much hope, so much trust in people which seem too often be the great unknown.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Macgyver/Sherlock: my current dilemma dealt neither with impending death nor a talking car, however it did require more trickery and thought than usual. Here's the story: Gable and I had been on a train in Euroland when a jumper jumped delaying our train 1+hr thus entitling us to a refund. The refund required quite a bit of information much of which was not on our ticket.
  1. What time? it was an open ticket but I had taken a picture of our food moments before we boarded! Thank you Canon for having the timing displayed if you want it.
  2. Between which stations? like I know, hopped on a few German/Dutch sites and found exactly which stations we were in between
  3. When did we get in? how should I know. Then I remembered we had put our luggage into lockers so we could look around without bags and I still had the receipt. Printed at 16:59 meaning we got in around 16:50 perfect.
so with the use of a laptop, a camera, an old train ticket, and an old locker ticket I have completed my form and facilitated a $74 refund.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Broken Glasses DIY: yes here is another time saving nugget. the screw fell out of my favorite pair of sunglasses and I didn't have one on hand {go figure right} but I did have wire. So here is an easy fix if you are in my same boat....
take broken glasses, take a piece of wire:
line up holes, thread wire through holes:
twist wire several times, cut wire {make sure you cut close or you will slash your face when you put them on :) }:
Voila...you are welcome

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Feet: oh silly you, you thought you'd seen enough....no with me there is always more :) you thought I'd taken pictures of just my hands holding food and my reflection in stuff, well I also took pictures of my feet! Hurray right? These flip flops are made for walking...and that's just what we did
{Amsterdam Train Station, random shell in the cobblestone in Brugge}
{similar shell in Antwerp, Crypt in Amsterdam}
{gravestone in the Oude Kirk Amsterdam, Step 533 of 533 at the Dom in Cologne}
{train and sleeping Dr. Moffitt}

Wednesday, June 13, 2012






Numb: the conversation was jumbled back and forth about the day, jobs, weather, random errands, a cut on her foot, my boss being late, her husband, my manfriends, more about the kids, blah blah blah Chemotherapy started....................and then nothing else she said registered. How did I not know, why I was not told sooner, why can't I breath right now, why am I crying, and why can't I answer when she asks if I am still there, I am nodding but she can't see the nod, nothing but numb.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Sometimes: I sometimes try too hard, I sometimes wish I could wear a tutu all day, I sometimes want to eat skittles with rice crispy treats in milk as my breakfast cereal, I sometimes panic when I am swimming laps in the deep end, I sometimes eat Tums just because I like the way they taste, I sometimes bite my nails when I get sad, I sometimes wear fancy pajamas to bed, I sometimes pick my nose, I sometimes miss spooning {no that's all the time :)}, I sometimes make wishes on pennies and throw them into fountains, I sometimes walk through the cleaning aisle because I like the way it smells, I sometimes talk to myself while walking through the cleaning aisle, I sometimes wonder if people were cared for, and appreciated, and loved, and given as much attention as this Bonsai, if we wouldn't live to be that old too.
-this lovely is almost 500 year old and exists at the National Arboretum and I noticed it for the first time 3 weeks ago-

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Frazzled....and my Tender Mercy:
for starters I think the term tender mercy is used for everything! One apostle used it in a very good talk and now everything it seems, is a tender mercy (TM). My cat came home! TM, I found a parking spot! TM, I graduated! TM. Nope those aren't tender mercies, that is just life. Tender mercies are when you think there is a very good chance God was looking out for you a little more than He usually does. I had one a few weeks ago.
See that bag to the left over there <======8 ya, that bag, along with 3 others that didn't make it into the picture, contains all of my fancy winter sweaters and pants and scarves. I was making the transition from winter/spring to summers so I bagged up my clothes to take them to the storage shed. On my way out the door I was a bit frazzled because I had 4 children (2 to take to school 2 to remain with me for the day), complete emotional closure had happened on the year long divorce {which is much sooner than I was expecting see here if you want to know how}, I had decided to go to Amsterdam but needed to get airfare and pack {i know poor me}, and my body was malfunctioning, I hadn't had breakfast, and sleep escaped me the night before. I strapped in all 4 kids, took a deep breath, dropped off 2 at school, then headed to the shed. Traffic was good, got there quick, parked right by my unit then opened the van to get my ......my bags! where are my bags? I thought through this...I had them when we walked out the door then I quickly put them down to strap in the littles then I ...I shut the van door and drove off!! They still must be in the middle of the road and today is trash day! I sped back to DC from Rockville praying my stuff would still be there because loosing stuff, although material and not important in the long run, would be just too much for little me that day {and every time I say little me in my head i am saying it with a southern accent fyi}. As I turned from 6th st. to Independence I fearfully looked and....tender mercy. My bags had been taken from the street to the sidewalk and all the garbage had been picked up, all the garbage in bags just like mine, all the garbage except for my 3 bags. Relief, amazement, joy. Lesson: when you have too much on your plate, stop going back for more....slow down.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Reflection: vacationing solo makes it difficult to get photos of your self next to cool things, and I am not one to ask strangers with no photographic experience to attempt to capture what I want, so instead I took lots of pictures of my reflection in things...

{my room in Brugge, Gare in Antwerp, side of a windmill in Brugge}

{store window, house window, gallery}

{Amsterdam Gouda, State House Amsterdam}

{tram in Amsterdam, Van Gogh Museum}
{and the best for last.....me, Man, J and the kebabs}