The Kearl Family

Est. 1996 by Morgan and Niki

Thursday, September 24, 2009


Brynna and Gaya have been best friends since 3rd grade. She spent a huge part of the summer traveling with us. Her family moved back to Israel and we miss her terribly!

Friday, September 18, 2009


Lately I can't seem to hear anything except how crazy my kids are for horses! I mean really. You can take the girl off the farm, but you can't take the farm out of her DNA? I don't really like animals. I know I did when I was young, in all the romantic ways children do. I fell in love with a little runt of a border collie and my mom actually let me have it. Or rather, she took care of the poops and pees in the back entry in the winter, and heard him whining and barking as he grew too big for the space we had - It was from that learning experience that I found out something about myself. I'm just not an animal person. Some are, some aren't. I like them in the sort of way I like mascots - cute and fun for a few minutes, but after that they'd better get moving on.

It may be that loving animals is a crazy part of girls hormones that strikes in the pre-pubescent teenie bopper. Every chance she gets she's surfing Craigslist to see which horses are for sale. It's adorable.

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Monday, January 26, 2009

Bright and Sunny (Friday Jan.23)

Today was a gloriously sunny day in Vancouver, the kind of day that makes you hum a happy song as you skip your way down the street. Morgan was even home at noon, when the kids get out of school on Fridays, so both of us went over for the pick up - a rare occasion for sure. I stayed in the car, and Morgan went up to the school to find the kids amongst the swarm of playing children. 10 minutes later I could see him returning, carrying 3 kids worth of back packs, jackets, and a violin.

Now this is the classic example of how kids take advantage of situations. I make the kids (for the most part) carry their own things. Morgan, however, ended up being the pack mule. He came to the van, I signaled for him to drop off the junk into the trunk, he fumbled the stuff into the back, and then we drove around the corner to the playground to collect the kids. It was hard to pull them away from the schoolyard, since everyone was content to enjoy the sunshine and stay after school to play. We had to go though, so away we zoomed down Oak street to drop off Morgan for his afternoon appointment.

I couldn't have been in a better mood! There was a happy buzz in the air - the spelling tests went well, the year book was ordered, the field trip got paid, the morning assembly had a magic show, and we had the whole afternoon ahead to do whatever we wanted. Our whole family happily chatted as we drove through the city. After successfully unloading Morg, and making it back home, we emptied the car, quite literally, and discovered Avery's violin was nowhere to be found. I was confused. So was Avery. I called Morgan.

"Hey. Just wondering... um, didn't you put Avery's violin in the back of the van?"
"Ya, I totally did. I had the coats, and back packs, and... oh shoot. I think I might have dropped it."
"What do you mean? Like on the grass?"
"Ah... no, not really..."
"Ok, so what are you saying then?"
"Well, I think that when I was trying to open the back hatch on the van, I might have dropped something. I sort of thought I did, but I just put all the stuff in and then got into the front."
"Hmmm. So What you're telling me is that the violin is laying in the street on 49th avenue."
"Well... yes, probably, ahh... definitely, yes."

So you can imagine that now my previously euphoric mood was completely replaced with panic (tinged with annoyance, over the fact that the dropped item wasn't investigated at the time of dropping... how typical...). 49th ave, the street along the side of the school, is a very busy street, with buses that stop every 9 minutes for our convenience, which would easily turn my son's instrument into a speed bump... Or, some person walking along could pick it up, and say, "Hey. This is an easy way to make a quick $300 on Craigslist".

I started rationalizing almost immediately. We could buy a new one. I think we have insurance - yes I did buy it, that's good... It wasn't the end of the world. I was REALLY glad Morgan had dropped it, and not ME. Maybe it would be there?? Wishful thinking! I drove around to 49th, and guess what. NO VIOLIN. Not a smashed up pile of wood in a disfigured case. Ok, maybe it was stolen after all. I pushed that out of my mind, proceeded to the school, and made my way (running) to the office. Just in case... I could only hope...

As soon as I entered the office, our Principal smiled at me.
"Jessie (Avery's teacher) has it in her room."
"Seriously??" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
"Yes. A good Samaritan lady was driving along (in her Lexus) and just happened to see you pull away from what appeared to be an instrument in the middle of the street. So she stopped her car, and took a chance that the violin might belong to a student here."

I couldn't believe our good fortune. After claiming the instrument, relief washed over me. The whole ordeal was over, almost as quickly as it had started. I felt the sunlight shining warmly on me, and realized in a warm fuzzy moment that nice people still exist. Most people, when faced with the opportunity to make a choice to do the right thing, will surrender to good conscience. The partier college student would certainly help a lost child in a store. Most drivers look out for children playing or crossing streets. And today, a valuable lost item was returned. My good mood is back, and with the bright sun, a reborn faith in humanity and renewed kinship with my community.

Am I going crazy? Maybe... yes, ok, definitely. But my Vancouver eyes aren't used to this bright sunshine, and my city-dwelling existence hasn't been used to receiving kindness from complete strangers.

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Sunday, September 7, 2008


I have a hard time journaling and recording my life. Part of it is that I feel like I have to be honest when I write, and a lot of times I don't feel like I want the truth recorded. It's easy to write about the trip to the beach, or how one of the kids won an award doing something great, but is this really what my life is about? So many times in my life the feelings I have inside are completely different than what everyone around me sees. We all do this of course, because who wants to read about things that are depressing or hard. My deepest thoughts have remained hidden almost my whole life. Sometimes I wonder who I am. What is it that I really love in life. What defines me? These are the things I want to write about - if I can make myself do it - because this is what my friends want to know about. How am I doing? Am I happy? Real answers to simple questions are the most complicated to answer truthfully, and those answers differ day in and out. Maybe today I have an average mom kind of day. Mayby tomorrow I wish I could run away for a while. Maybe next week I'll be totally in love with my husband. Who knows. Every day is different.