I wear my sunglasses at night.

Sunglasses are for sleeping, of course. In this case, sleeping with sunglasses means you love your brother.


His older brother, Josh, has sleep issues. The lamp must be on, as well as the hall light left on. He must be a certain amount of tired, but not overtired. He must build his nest of six blankets on his bed and all the stars must be perfectly aligned. And even then, he sometimes (often) ends up nestling in with his brother. Max, on the other hand, just wants his blankets smoothed and a dark room.

Now I am sure that I will be wishing I didn't bring up this song, as it will surely play through my mind against my will as I try to sleep.

I wear my sunglasses at night So I can, so I can....

Keep track of the visions in my eyes

For some reason, my mind gets stuck on the so I can, so I can... over and over again. Thank you very much, Corey Hart circa 1983.

Lists by choice

Hi, My name is Rynell and I am obsessed with lists. I have lists of words, lists of things, lists of colors, lists of books, lists of plans, lists of food, lists of errands and lists of lists. Where would I be without a list? I'd be lost for sure. My childhood journals are bursting with lists, often ridiculous, but lists nonetheless.

One of my favorite poets, Naomi Shihab Nye, has a collection of poetry called Words Under The Words. Isn't that a delightful title? There are words and meaning beneath words--layers of meaning.

I drift back to my lists, my rough drafts, the scribbles by which I decipher my spinning thoughts. What meanings are layered in these lists? What purpose is there? Am I really preoccupied with all the little things--too busy with the "thick of thin things"?

Recently, my loyal iMac revolted and Andy did a dreaded reinstall. Many of my lists, my words and my projects were saved on my computer. Of course, it was all backed up. But...(you knew there was a but, right?) the backup hard drive failed. There were also 15,000 photos and many of Andy's other freelance projects on that hard drive. I can work a computer, but Andy can make a computer work. After a long Saturday, we were back in business. The iMac behaving again with my backed-up work and his projects restored.

I was glad, of course! But one small part of me was itching to know what it would be like to begin afresh. Not just with the inviting expanse of a single, blank page, but with an entire blank slate. What words would I choose? What meanings are under those words?

Twenty ten!

About December -- I cleaned up way too much puke, wiped too many noses, doled out lots of cough syrup to want to revisit most of the month. Mrs. Claus made it to our house because Santa was tired and sick. That's about all I remember. Christmas was merry, kids were rendered giddy.

After Christmas, we visited West Texas. It was -17 degrees as we drove through the canyon on Highway 6. We returned home to a balmy 34 degrees and a broken pipe. We had a grand time (family! food! fun!) on our trip, that is until I started throwing up on New Years Eve.

Here is what West Texas looks like. Not the city we were in, but outside of town. Driving that last couple of hours always feels like coming home. Cattle, unending blue sky and oil wells.








But here I am, home again, home again jiggity-jig and it is a new year. Twenty-ten!

And to celebrate, here is a special photo for you. Andy took it, and I have no idea what it is, but that makes it so much more fun.