We did it! We accomplished one of the items on our Sunday List. (Visit Conversations with Shen for details.) On Sunday afternoon we headed out to Old Town Orange for a bit of antiquing. It was a new world for Ferris. I grew up immersed in it. The best part of the day is that my passion rubbed off a little on Ferris and a monster was created. She spent the evening researching her new obsessions on Google & eBay. I gave herself a pat on the back for imparting a little bit of wisdom.
I was a little disappointed in the shopping. Everything was much more expensive than it should be and each store seemed to have the same items. I’ve always been more of a fan of the individual store rather than antique districts. But, there are a few good spots around The Plaza that are worth the drive. It was also a great place to jump (or be pushed) head first into a new world. In my family antiques were a way of life. I’m not talking about Louis the XVI fancy-schmancy furniture, I’m talking about real world, things you can use, antiques. Glass ware, linens, kitchen ware. I would never buy something just to look at it. I want to use it. I want it to have a purpose. Looking pretty is just the bonus.
The best part of the day was spending it with an old friend & igniting a fire. Antiquing, thrifting, junking-whatever you want to call it, is the ultimate in recycling. Why buy something new when something old was probably built better and will last longer? I did find a few treasures…An old hand sifter with the paper label still attached, a potato masher with a green handle, an enamelware ladle ( I LOVE enamelware), an old carnival prize metal cowboy horse and a Ponderosa Ranch tin cup (both gifts for Monkey-I’ll fill the cup with M&M’s). I also found an old Reyn Spooner shirt for my husband for only $20. A steal really. Ferris found a couple of goodies too but her day was more about finding out what she really likes. I’ll post some photos later. My husband hijacked his new shirt for a trip to Atlanta before I was able to snap a picture.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
A Confession
I have a confession.
I am a stalker, a creeper...whatever you want to call it. There are quite a few blogs that I read everyday and I never comment. Why? I have no idea. These sites tend to inspire me to be more creative. They frustrate me a bit too. Only because they show me what I'm capable and remind me that I'm not doing the things I should be.
As a penance, I have added them to my blogroll and I will list them all here. I will make an effort to comment. Find something good to say and just say it. For now, to all of you out there doing the same thing, lets work together and start leaving our positive comments.
Feeling Stitchy
Buttons Magee
Antique Mommy
Future Girl
I am a stalker, a creeper...whatever you want to call it. There are quite a few blogs that I read everyday and I never comment. Why? I have no idea. These sites tend to inspire me to be more creative. They frustrate me a bit too. Only because they show me what I'm capable and remind me that I'm not doing the things I should be.
As a penance, I have added them to my blogroll and I will list them all here. I will make an effort to comment. Find something good to say and just say it. For now, to all of you out there doing the same thing, lets work together and start leaving our positive comments.
Feeling Stitchy
Buttons Magee
Antique Mommy
Future Girl
Monday, September 22, 2008
Grace Stikes Again
I've mentioned before that my nickname growing up was Grace (one of the many nicknames anyway). Well. This weekend, she stuck her foot out and tripped me up again.
We were visiting family yesterday. The terrain was not my own. Lovey & I were horsing around as we often do. - Now, before I describe this "horsing around" we were doing, please know that nothing is done viciously or with anger, we are laughing the entire time, and for the most part, it is done softly with intent of messing with the other person, not hurting them. There is rarely pain & apologies and giggles are passed when there is.- SO...This game we play usually starts with one of us very lightly kicking the other one in the calf or the rear end. Or lightly finger slapping the other one in the arm or again, the leg. Sometimes there is poking in the arm or stomach. All it takes is one touch and we're both off giggling and smacking each other. My husband HATES it when we do this. He says it's because he knows one of us will end up hurt. But, that rarely happens. I think it's because he's more than a little jealous. He's one of those "doesn't play well with others" kind of fellows. He does play too hard and someone does get hurt when he gets involved.
As we were playing, Lovey got a good smack on my leg. We had an audience and had them all laughing. Because this smack was loud (but not painful) he took off running outside. This caused everyone-mostly men-to make chicken sounds. Again, just teasing , he was laughing & smiling the whole time. While he taunted me from outside the screen door, I warned "Just you wait...I know where you sleep!" A few minutes later, he braved the indoors and stood talking to his uncle. I crept up behind him, kicked him softly in the rear end and took off.
This is when I learned a very important safety tip. Never wear Crocs while running on thick piled carpet. The rubber sticks and you just don't get the speed or control you need. I turned the corner, the toe of my shoe caught on the carpet, my knee buckled underneath me. I looked forward and saw only the corner of the wall. Quickly, I stuck out my arms so they would grab it first rather than my head crashing into the corner. My hands made it, my arms grasped it, I made it to the wall without injury. This was not done gracefully. I was literally hugging the wall while my legs were bent at strange angles, both feet stuck in place because of that darn rubber shoe. As I giggled, I slid down the wall, hit the floor, rolled over and started laughing. My sweet Lovey knew I wasn't hurt so he too laughed to the point of falling to the floor. My wonderful sister in law watched all of this in a panic. All I could hear above the laughter was her calling my husbands name over & over, sure I had seriously injured myself.
I did scrape my knee, and I do have a large bump on my wrist, but the fun was more than worth it. As I stood in my own kitchen later, my husband examining my slightly swollen wrist, he said "I knew someone would get hurt." I just smiled and went for the facts. My boy is 14. He doesn't let me kiss him. He will only on the rarest of occasions let me hug him. But he will play with me. If I get a little banged up in the process, then so be it. Years from now neither of us will remember the sting of a finger slap but we will remember the laughter.
We were visiting family yesterday. The terrain was not my own. Lovey & I were horsing around as we often do. - Now, before I describe this "horsing around" we were doing, please know that nothing is done viciously or with anger, we are laughing the entire time, and for the most part, it is done softly with intent of messing with the other person, not hurting them. There is rarely pain & apologies and giggles are passed when there is.- SO...This game we play usually starts with one of us very lightly kicking the other one in the calf or the rear end. Or lightly finger slapping the other one in the arm or again, the leg. Sometimes there is poking in the arm or stomach. All it takes is one touch and we're both off giggling and smacking each other. My husband HATES it when we do this. He says it's because he knows one of us will end up hurt. But, that rarely happens. I think it's because he's more than a little jealous. He's one of those "doesn't play well with others" kind of fellows. He does play too hard and someone does get hurt when he gets involved.
As we were playing, Lovey got a good smack on my leg. We had an audience and had them all laughing. Because this smack was loud (but not painful) he took off running outside. This caused everyone-mostly men-to make chicken sounds. Again, just teasing , he was laughing & smiling the whole time. While he taunted me from outside the screen door, I warned "Just you wait...I know where you sleep!" A few minutes later, he braved the indoors and stood talking to his uncle. I crept up behind him, kicked him softly in the rear end and took off.
This is when I learned a very important safety tip. Never wear Crocs while running on thick piled carpet. The rubber sticks and you just don't get the speed or control you need. I turned the corner, the toe of my shoe caught on the carpet, my knee buckled underneath me. I looked forward and saw only the corner of the wall. Quickly, I stuck out my arms so they would grab it first rather than my head crashing into the corner. My hands made it, my arms grasped it, I made it to the wall without injury. This was not done gracefully. I was literally hugging the wall while my legs were bent at strange angles, both feet stuck in place because of that darn rubber shoe. As I giggled, I slid down the wall, hit the floor, rolled over and started laughing. My sweet Lovey knew I wasn't hurt so he too laughed to the point of falling to the floor. My wonderful sister in law watched all of this in a panic. All I could hear above the laughter was her calling my husbands name over & over, sure I had seriously injured myself.
I did scrape my knee, and I do have a large bump on my wrist, but the fun was more than worth it. As I stood in my own kitchen later, my husband examining my slightly swollen wrist, he said "I knew someone would get hurt." I just smiled and went for the facts. My boy is 14. He doesn't let me kiss him. He will only on the rarest of occasions let me hug him. But he will play with me. If I get a little banged up in the process, then so be it. Years from now neither of us will remember the sting of a finger slap but we will remember the laughter.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Searching for inspiration...
Last weekend I rearranged my living room. A sure sign of trouble brewing. Usually when I do this it's because I'm trying to distract myself from something else. I knew as I moved my favorite chair into a corner, that this was the case. Four days later and I still don't know what it was I've been distracting myself from.
As I wondered around the local bookstore last night I just couldn't find anything that interested me. That is a shocking thing. Not once have I walked into a book store and not been drawn to something. I knew I was looking for beatuy and inspiration. Something with a lyrical language and deep in meaning. I just couldn't find it. I ended up with the John Adams biography by David McCullogh I've been meaning to read forever and an anthology of poetry. What does that say about what I've been needing? Hope in a politically ravaged time? As I began reading John Adams last night one of his quotes was something like..."You're never alone as long as you've got a poet in your pocket." Fitting that I purchased this and poetry at the same time.
As interesting as this book may become, I don't think it's the inspiration I've been looking for. Maybe the looking for inspiration is a distraction itself. I'm feeling unfocused and scattered. Perhaps today, I'll just listen.
As I wondered around the local bookstore last night I just couldn't find anything that interested me. That is a shocking thing. Not once have I walked into a book store and not been drawn to something. I knew I was looking for beatuy and inspiration. Something with a lyrical language and deep in meaning. I just couldn't find it. I ended up with the John Adams biography by David McCullogh I've been meaning to read forever and an anthology of poetry. What does that say about what I've been needing? Hope in a politically ravaged time? As I began reading John Adams last night one of his quotes was something like..."You're never alone as long as you've got a poet in your pocket." Fitting that I purchased this and poetry at the same time.
As interesting as this book may become, I don't think it's the inspiration I've been looking for. Maybe the looking for inspiration is a distraction itself. I'm feeling unfocused and scattered. Perhaps today, I'll just listen.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Proud Parent
Lovey has been going to "school" his entire life. I've always worked outside the home so he's always had to get up early, pack up his necessities in his backpack and head out the door. The necessities used to be his stuffed Eeyore and Winnie The Pooh blanket. Now it's 50 pounds of books and binders.
While he is a very smart boy, sitting down and listening to a teacher has never been his strong suit. He'd rather take his own time, learn it in his own way. It was the same when learning to write his name as it is learning algebra. The ability is there, but never the drive. He knows things about our history and science that no one has ever taught him, he just knows somehow. I frequently say to him "Why can't you use this power for good?"
The middle school years were extremely difficult (not quite an accurate description-there are not words to describe how painful and heartbreaking they were). Early on, The Mayor & I would help Lovey with his homework. We worked hard on staying involved in what was due and when. We felt that without our push he just wouldn't do the work. This "help" as we saw it, almost always ended in battles & tears. His sensitive nature thought we were picking on him and putting too much pressure on him. After a year and a half of this struggle we stopped helping. We stopped pushing. Clearly the amount of pressure Lovey was feeling wasn't doing anyone any good. No more than "did you finish your homework" crossed our lips. We made the choice that living peacefully together was much more important than whether his homework was done. Was this the right choice? I don't know. Lovey spent so much energy lying to us about whether or not the work was done that his guilt ended up in the same battles and tears. He has always been the type of boy that would "tattle" on himself. If he has done something bad or wrong, he feels it deeply and is often harder on himself than we could ever be. In the end, our choice to not pressure him only resulted in his guilty feelings overwhelming him.
We finally sought help in dealing with his feelings about himself and towards us. Help with how we were handling the situation. Most of our Wednesday night therapy sessions ended uncomfortably. With either me crying, The Mayor angry & hurt, or Lovey silent and withholding. But it's been good for all of us in the long run.
Along with our Wednesday nights, I have spent countless hours in prayer for Lovey. Asking God to be with him. To bring him peace. To allow him focus and understanding towards what he needs to do. Pleading with Him to wrap his loving arms around my boy and protect him from the dangers facing his teenage years.
At then end of his 8th grade year, Lovey was failing 3 classes. Not just the detested algebra, but science & language too. Because of teachers that could see his potential he was given the chance to focus on catching up. He worked diligently during those few months and improved all of those F's up to C's. Without pressuring him, I simply said "Lovey, think of what you could have accomplished had you put in just put in a fraction of that hard work during the year." Normally, he would have protested. Blamed everyone but himself while internally feeling like a failure. I braced myself for the argument that would surely come my way, but it didn't. He just said "I know Mom".
The summer months flew by. On occasion we would talk about the coming change of high school. We would gently tell him that it would be much harder than middle school and that it would require a lot more effort on his part. In the past, these types of conversations would lead to a fight, but not once over the summer did we argue over it. Each time it was discussed he would say "I know. I'm going to try hard this year." Words are easy, it's the actions that tell the story. As September approached I wanted desperately to believe his words. It's a terrible feeling to distrust your child. But all of the fights and lies in the past kept me from being able to trust his words. I continued my prayers, begging for Gods guidance and help with the child I love so fiercely.
The first day of school arrived. In an effort to keep a calm in the house I didn't make a fuss. I didn't take the day off from work. I tried to make it like any other day. When I arrived home from work, Lovey jumped right in to telling me about his day. Talking about his teachers and who he thought he would like & dislike. He gave me the papers I needed right away. He asked for my help in getting the new list of supplies still needed. I sat at the table soaking it all in. Never in his previous 9 years of school had he come home with that much enthusiasm. Never had he volunteered information about his day. Inside I was screaming & jumping for joy. Outside, I smiled and listened. I covered his books while he talked & talked. I helped put together his binders while he laughed telling me he was too nervous to eat lunch that day.
I went to bed that night thankful to God for the joy and peace he had given sweet Lovey. I was eternally grateful for that one day of an enthusiastic student. It's been a week and while the excited nervous energy is gone, the enthusiasm towards the work seems to have stayed. Two nights went by with no homework. A familiar line of "I did it at school" were heard. The doubt crept back into my mind. So I asked. I told Lovey I wanted to believe him, that I did believe, but I needed to see the homework he said he had done. This too would normally cause a huge fight. To my great relief, it didn't. He didn't comment. Didn't argue. He got his book and showed me the work.
There will continue to be a bit of doubt and a need for Lovey to earn back my trust, but I'm taking each day one at a time. The last week was so incredible. I know there will still be bumps in the road, but a huge part of my heart believes that the worst is behind us. I am always proud of Lovey for all that he is and the beauty of his mind and heart. But today, I get to proud of him as a student too. My heart sings with thanks and joy.
While he is a very smart boy, sitting down and listening to a teacher has never been his strong suit. He'd rather take his own time, learn it in his own way. It was the same when learning to write his name as it is learning algebra. The ability is there, but never the drive. He knows things about our history and science that no one has ever taught him, he just knows somehow. I frequently say to him "Why can't you use this power for good?"
The middle school years were extremely difficult (not quite an accurate description-there are not words to describe how painful and heartbreaking they were). Early on, The Mayor & I would help Lovey with his homework. We worked hard on staying involved in what was due and when. We felt that without our push he just wouldn't do the work. This "help" as we saw it, almost always ended in battles & tears. His sensitive nature thought we were picking on him and putting too much pressure on him. After a year and a half of this struggle we stopped helping. We stopped pushing. Clearly the amount of pressure Lovey was feeling wasn't doing anyone any good. No more than "did you finish your homework" crossed our lips. We made the choice that living peacefully together was much more important than whether his homework was done. Was this the right choice? I don't know. Lovey spent so much energy lying to us about whether or not the work was done that his guilt ended up in the same battles and tears. He has always been the type of boy that would "tattle" on himself. If he has done something bad or wrong, he feels it deeply and is often harder on himself than we could ever be. In the end, our choice to not pressure him only resulted in his guilty feelings overwhelming him.
We finally sought help in dealing with his feelings about himself and towards us. Help with how we were handling the situation. Most of our Wednesday night therapy sessions ended uncomfortably. With either me crying, The Mayor angry & hurt, or Lovey silent and withholding. But it's been good for all of us in the long run.
Along with our Wednesday nights, I have spent countless hours in prayer for Lovey. Asking God to be with him. To bring him peace. To allow him focus and understanding towards what he needs to do. Pleading with Him to wrap his loving arms around my boy and protect him from the dangers facing his teenage years.
At then end of his 8th grade year, Lovey was failing 3 classes. Not just the detested algebra, but science & language too. Because of teachers that could see his potential he was given the chance to focus on catching up. He worked diligently during those few months and improved all of those F's up to C's. Without pressuring him, I simply said "Lovey, think of what you could have accomplished had you put in just put in a fraction of that hard work during the year." Normally, he would have protested. Blamed everyone but himself while internally feeling like a failure. I braced myself for the argument that would surely come my way, but it didn't. He just said "I know Mom".
The summer months flew by. On occasion we would talk about the coming change of high school. We would gently tell him that it would be much harder than middle school and that it would require a lot more effort on his part. In the past, these types of conversations would lead to a fight, but not once over the summer did we argue over it. Each time it was discussed he would say "I know. I'm going to try hard this year." Words are easy, it's the actions that tell the story. As September approached I wanted desperately to believe his words. It's a terrible feeling to distrust your child. But all of the fights and lies in the past kept me from being able to trust his words. I continued my prayers, begging for Gods guidance and help with the child I love so fiercely.
The first day of school arrived. In an effort to keep a calm in the house I didn't make a fuss. I didn't take the day off from work. I tried to make it like any other day. When I arrived home from work, Lovey jumped right in to telling me about his day. Talking about his teachers and who he thought he would like & dislike. He gave me the papers I needed right away. He asked for my help in getting the new list of supplies still needed. I sat at the table soaking it all in. Never in his previous 9 years of school had he come home with that much enthusiasm. Never had he volunteered information about his day. Inside I was screaming & jumping for joy. Outside, I smiled and listened. I covered his books while he talked & talked. I helped put together his binders while he laughed telling me he was too nervous to eat lunch that day.
I went to bed that night thankful to God for the joy and peace he had given sweet Lovey. I was eternally grateful for that one day of an enthusiastic student. It's been a week and while the excited nervous energy is gone, the enthusiasm towards the work seems to have stayed. Two nights went by with no homework. A familiar line of "I did it at school" were heard. The doubt crept back into my mind. So I asked. I told Lovey I wanted to believe him, that I did believe, but I needed to see the homework he said he had done. This too would normally cause a huge fight. To my great relief, it didn't. He didn't comment. Didn't argue. He got his book and showed me the work.
There will continue to be a bit of doubt and a need for Lovey to earn back my trust, but I'm taking each day one at a time. The last week was so incredible. I know there will still be bumps in the road, but a huge part of my heart believes that the worst is behind us. I am always proud of Lovey for all that he is and the beauty of his mind and heart. But today, I get to proud of him as a student too. My heart sings with thanks and joy.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Smile
Today, I'm challenging everyone who reads this blog. (All three of you!) Pass it on. Smile. Even if you don't feel it at first, by the third or fourth smile, you'll be happier and so will the person you're sharing it with.
"Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." ~Mark Twain
"Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." ~Mark Twain
Friday, September 05, 2008
Afghan project
My next adventure is in the world of crochet. It's another art first taught to me by my great grandmother (Grandma Tag as we called her) as a child, and reintroduced to me by my beloved Gram as an adult.
When we were very little Grandma Tag was sure to teach us some of her amazing skills. She could make amazing things out of nothing. From building a house to a fancy cake for birthdays and everything in between. She once turned a burnt couch sitting on someones curb for the garbage into a one of kind sectional for her tiny house. She was junking long before Country Home of Country Living made it cool. But I've gotten off track....
My Grandma Tag was and Gram is the type of woman that can crochet an entire afghan in a day. Their turned fingers working like lightening as they worked shell stitches. I'm just not that fast. I've wanted to work on a scrap afghan for quite some time. There is so much yarn in my house I could probably make a few of these projects and still have plenty left over.
I'm roughly 13 rows into my current attempt. I'm trying to keep the color story going. I faded from blue into green and will fade the green into purples next. It's a simple shell & reverse shell but I think it looks sort of like a yo yo quilt (an art I do not yet know how to do-I'm hoping my Gram or mother in law will someday show me).
I really am a beginner at this. I know a handful of stitches and have made maybe 3 afghans in the past. I've made several wash cloths, which is a great way to practice new stitches. With each turn of the hook I think I improve. Maybe someday I'll be as quick as my wonderful grandmothers.
Embroidery Project
This project is long over due. I've been working on for nearly a year. Not because it was especially complicated. It was just one of those things that I would work on for a while, then set aside only to pick it up again a few months later. It is a pillow for my grandparents and their "new" old trailer. When we were little they had a Travelese that my grandfather rebuilt. It was our home away from home. It was sold when I started high school for a bigger & "better" trailer. Recently, fond memories of the Travelese caused my grandparents to search for something similar to their old trailer and after several months of searching they finally found one. It is so like the one in our memories. They're working hard on fixing it up. I've done my part with a pillow that travels down memory lane.
It includes images that bring to mind our many trips. All but the tree are patterns from Sublime Stitching. I created the tree myself, as you can tell. Many our our trips were to visit the giant redwoods in central & northern California. The words are lyrics to a song my grandmother used to sing while on the road. "Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I wanna go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went straight to my head." I thought it better than my grandfathers ditty "She's got freckles on her but, she's nice." I'm most proud of the fire & the roasted marshmallows.
The picture doesn't quite do it justice. The stones look great in person. Same with the marshmallows. I used a stark white for the top and a taupey brown for the roasted part.
So there it is. My first embroidery project since before the age of 10. I think I did pretty well for someone who hasn't picked up a needle and floss in over 20 years. Now onto to other ideas.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Go Bulldogs!
Just got back from my sons high school orientation meeting. The principal is inspiring and driven. The assistant principals seem to be serious, dedicated and fun. I've come away inspired by their talks. Not only is this a huge scary milestone sort of of change, but it's also a chance to change in a good way.
Lovey has seen the importance of applying his incredible brain power to school and seems really dedicated to becoming a better student. He also said that he's thinking of joining the golf team. I can't tell you how much this will please not only his father, but his grandfather & uncles. In typical 14 year old fashion, there isn't a lot of umph behind the voice, but the enthusiasm of the words was a joy to hear.
Here's to new adventures and new beginings!
Lovey has seen the importance of applying his incredible brain power to school and seems really dedicated to becoming a better student. He also said that he's thinking of joining the golf team. I can't tell you how much this will please not only his father, but his grandfather & uncles. In typical 14 year old fashion, there isn't a lot of umph behind the voice, but the enthusiasm of the words was a joy to hear.
Here's to new adventures and new beginings!
Self Acceptance
Was out looking for inspiration during my lunch break and found this over at Feeling Stichy. It is the contest winner for the Summer Sampler contest. Not only is the needlework amazing. It has an incredible and beautiful message. One I needed today as gaze at the soda on my desk with disdain. Thinking that food is the root of all evil.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Angel speak
Have you ever been in a conversation and said something that surprised you both in the beauty of the words and the beauty of the meaning? I have, and just experienced it again a few minutes ago.
While sitting at lunch talking with some co-workers, a woman I've worked on and off with for over 10 years was talking about an experience with a homeless man. Her question was "Why do they always come to me?"
Without thinking, without pausing, I said..."Maybe you have wings that only the needy can see."
As soon as it was out of my mouth, I was stuck by the words. I've posted before about my own experience with a homeless man and my feeling that he was an angel. Perhaps I haven't thought it through to the end. Maybe, just sometimes, we are the angel that someone else needs.
While sitting at lunch talking with some co-workers, a woman I've worked on and off with for over 10 years was talking about an experience with a homeless man. Her question was "Why do they always come to me?"
Without thinking, without pausing, I said..."Maybe you have wings that only the needy can see."
As soon as it was out of my mouth, I was stuck by the words. I've posted before about my own experience with a homeless man and my feeling that he was an angel. Perhaps I haven't thought it through to the end. Maybe, just sometimes, we are the angel that someone else needs.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I Am Thankful
The pressure or life has been hard lately, as it can be for all of us, and I think it's time to count my blessings. Today, I'm feeling the need to be thankful.I am thankful for.....
My husband-That we have survived over 15 years together and we truly love each other more today than we ever have before. How lucky I am to have found him.
My beautiful son-He is growing into such a kind, funny, intelligent man. He is a gift to me.
My sister-What can I say about her? Where would I be without her guidance and support? To quote AA Milne (as Winnie The Pooh) "If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you."
My niece & nephews-There is a love from them that is unlike any other love I've ever experienced. They are my joy.
My brother in law G-If given the chance, I couldn't have picked a better husband for my sister.
My grandparents-There aren't words enough....
My husbands family-There are so many of them! I've gained new siblings and new friends. They love and support me unconditionally. They are exactly what I needed.
Old friends-Becoming new.
Employment-For now, at least I have it.
Starbucks Venti Iced Black Tea with extra ice-A girl has needs!
Figi Water-Water should always taste this good.
Hawaii-It's called paradise for a reason.
Dogs-Just about any dogs. Although I have a few favorites.
My town-As crazy as it can be, it is slow and peaceful.
My mountains-Part of why I love my town.
The Sequoia National Forest-This is heaven to me.
Bird songs-They wake me every morning.
Lexi-Dot-She is crazy. She is 100% cat, but she is a great conversationalist.
Memories-Good and bad-they made me who I am.
Prayer-Nothing has given me more peace than the simple act of praying.
What are you thankful for today?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Another new read
Just started a new blog in collaberation with my good friend Ferris. Head on over sometime. Thanks!
Conversations With Shen
Conversations With Shen
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Purging my brain
Yes, a third blog of the day. Just needed to share. Put it into words to get it out of my head.
I work for what was once a large company that has recently suffered huge layoffs and worse. My desk is located in one quarter of the 3rd floor of a large office building. This one quarter of one floor used to seat at least 300 people. I am now one of only 10 in this small corner. It has been that way for a few weeks and as depressing as it is, today it is much, much worse. A crew of about 15 people are clearing away the computers, etc. from all of the surrounding desks. I feel like a corpse waiting to be taken to the morgue, watching all of the other dead bodies being carried away. What’s next? Turning off the air conditioner? Shutting of the lights? Cutting off the water? It’s eerie and it’s sad.
I work for what was once a large company that has recently suffered huge layoffs and worse. My desk is located in one quarter of the 3rd floor of a large office building. This one quarter of one floor used to seat at least 300 people. I am now one of only 10 in this small corner. It has been that way for a few weeks and as depressing as it is, today it is much, much worse. A crew of about 15 people are clearing away the computers, etc. from all of the surrounding desks. I feel like a corpse waiting to be taken to the morgue, watching all of the other dead bodies being carried away. What’s next? Turning off the air conditioner? Shutting of the lights? Cutting off the water? It’s eerie and it’s sad.
Three Favorites
You know you've been listening to the same morning show for too long when you start recognizing the caller’s voices.As I was listening to this familiar voice on the radio this morning, they were discussing an interesting topic: If you were stranded on a desert island, what one album (CD for the younguns) would you want with you? We play a similar game around the dinner table. It’s always interesting to hear how the responses change. Especially from Lovey. So here’s the MEME, if you will…..Your Three Favorites-what you want on your desert island.
Three Favorite Albums:
The White Album-The Beatles
All That You Can’t Leave Behind-U2
Feeding Frenzy-Jimmy Buffett
Three Favorite Songs:
Yesterday-The Beatles
Beautiful Day-U2
Over The Rainbow/Wonderful World-Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
Three Favorite Movies:
The Princess Bride
John Hughes 80’s teen movies-a girl can’t pick just one.
O Brother Where Art Thou
Three Favorite Movie Quotes:
“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”
“Blane?! Blane’s not a name, it’s a major appliance!”
“Oh George, not the livestock.”
Three Favorite Books:
Gone With the Wind-Margaret Mitchell
The Time Travelers Wife-Audrey Niffenger (sp?)
Pride & Prejudice-Jane Austen
Now that I’m done…..three is never enough.
“Have fun storming the castle!”
EXTRA! EXTRA!
For those of you looking for an entertaining read (seriously funny, I mean it)....Head on over to the blog of my friend Ferris and her Tales From the Porch. She's just getting started, but her posts leave you wanting more.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Can You Play? (Long post)
I have known Ferris since the day I was born. Of course, I don’t remember the day itself, being so small & new, but we’ve been told this as fact. She lived just two doors down from my grandparent’s house. My earliest memories of friendship come from being with her. Playing baseball in the middle of the street (she was going to be the first female Dodger), coming up with crazy plays and dancing to popular music. We went to different schools, and when we were very small, I lived farther away. But we always came together in the summertime. I was the little girl that didn’t make friends easily and she was always a bundle of energy that just pulled me along with her. Adolescence came, and being from completely different worlds, we drifted apart. We ended up going to the same high school, but being in different grades and different circles, we didn’t really “hang out”.When I was 16, I tried out for cheerleading. To this day, I don’t know what gave me the idea, let alone the courage, to do such a thing. I think I was trying to break out of the shy girl mode, and to break away from people that were anything but friends. Ferris was already in Varsity Cheer and great at it. Somehow I made the JV team and started practicing everyday, becoming totally immersed in the sport. My grandmother, tired of driving me back and forth, asked Ferris to start taking me. We were going to the same place anyway. At first it was awkward. I thought of her as a popular girl and she intimidated me. This lasted for about 15 seconds. Then I realized that she was still Ferris and I was still me. This simple act from my grandmother, and Ferris’ mom I’m sure, was the greatest gift I had been given in my 16 years. I went from having terrible, manipulative, user friends, to having a best friend for the first time in my life.
We became inseparable. We went everywhere together. From taking trips to Fashion Island for the day, to driving 5 minutes to Sav-On. She had a boyfriend, but that didn’t stop of us from always being together. I’m sure they had time with just the two of them, but it must have been rare. We were so linked that her boyfriend had combined our names into one word, long before the Benifer & Brangelinas of the world. Things didn’t really change when we entered college. We remained attached. She had a new boyfriend. Anyone we dated knew we were a box set. You may date her, but you’ll have to be friends with me.
We started dating our husbands within days of each other. At the time, they too were best friends. A mutual friend had intentions of fixing me up with The King and Ferris up with Chas. In fact, Chas liked Ferris, she is more his type. Petite and curvy. God had other plans. Chas was meant for me and The King was meant for her. Things moved quickly with both of us. We didn’t’ drift apart as much as we became adults with adult relationships. We were still somewhat attached however, working at the same place, eating lunch together everyday. When she had her first child, I was there.
Something happened in the next few years. We did drift apart. There wasn’t a specific event that I know of. It was just time and circumstances. It is how life played out. It was time. We needed to become adults independent of each other. We needed to become wives and mothers without the others influence. The time spent apart was too long. There were times when her absence from my life was palpable. Not only did I lack the courage to call her, but I knew in my heart that we were apart for a reason.
Recently, we have reconnected through the persuasion of our husbands. The first night we had dinner together was much like the first day in her car when I was 16. I was scared and nervous. I’d like to say that went away within 15 seconds again, but it didn’t, it lasted a few days. We have let each other in by bits and pieces. We are no where near the best friends we used to be. But, I don’t think we need or want to be. We have husbands for that type of intimacy and closeness.
Ferris believes, and I agree, that we have come into one another’s lives again for a purpose; that we each have something to learn from the other. Each time we have come together we have been at pivotal times. As little girls when we were learning how to make friends, when we were teens and needed the companionship only a best girl friend can give, and now, as adults, nearing our 40’s and the new challenges life will offer. I believe we have the same things to learn from each other that we always have. I need to learn how to be more open and trusting, less shy. I need to learn how to get out into the world rather than staying a homebody. I have things to teach her as well, but that’s for her to discuss. What ever the lessons or reasons are, I am so grateful and blessed that she is in my life again.
Other than my sister, who else knew me in pigtails and red tennis shoes? Who else knows about my deepest high school crushes and wildest dreams? She shared most of my life changing events with me. She watched me and helped me to become who I am today. I’d like to think I helped her too. Someday we’ll be old & gray, but I hope we’ll still call to say “Can you play?”
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Sunday Morning Tresspassing
This weekend my family went to Warner Springs, what could be considered the ancestral home of my husbands family. His grandparents started going there and built a house overlooking the valley well over 50 years ago. The house was sold, sadly, a few years ago. However, at the same time a long missed sister moved back to Southern California and was fortunate to purchase an amazing house in the same neighborhood. We love driving down to visit them for long weekends of food, laughter and love.
This weekend would be no exception. All of the remaining siblings with the exception of one, headed to Warners to honor the birthday and passing of their mother who died 20 years ago. Friday and Saturday passed with the typical relaxation and enjoyment. Golf, swimming, catching a few moments of the Olympics, playing games.
When Mom died per her request, her ashes were to be spread at the observatory that can be viewed from the patio of their grandparents pink house in Warner Springs. This would allow all of her children to be able to see her resting spot from the house that they loved, and they feel, it would allow her to keep and eye on them.
Sounds simple enough, drive an hour to the observatory, use one of the hiking trails, and scatter the ashes to the wind. Sure, simple for most people, but not this group. Not only is spreading ashes in a public place like this not permitted, but they strayed from the path, into restricted areas of the observatory so that they could see the road leading to the pink house. This was no small feat considering the number of people involved.
This weekend would be no exception. All of the remaining siblings with the exception of one, headed to Warners to honor the birthday and passing of their mother who died 20 years ago. Friday and Saturday passed with the typical relaxation and enjoyment. Golf, swimming, catching a few moments of the Olympics, playing games.
Sunday, however, was a different story. Just this week, my husband and I were talking about how he and his siblings are "rule breakers". They don't break the law (anymore), but the rules for most people simply don't apply. My theory is that coming from such a large family, they think differently about rules that the rest of the world. They say, "What are they going to do, arrest us all?"
When Mom died per her request, her ashes were to be spread at the observatory that can be viewed from the patio of their grandparents pink house in Warner Springs. This would allow all of her children to be able to see her resting spot from the house that they loved, and they feel, it would allow her to keep and eye on them.
Sounds simple enough, drive an hour to the observatory, use one of the hiking trails, and scatter the ashes to the wind. Sure, simple for most people, but not this group. Not only is spreading ashes in a public place like this not permitted, but they strayed from the path, into restricted areas of the observatory so that they could see the road leading to the pink house. This was no small feat considering the number of people involved.
Sunday morning, just after 6am, we planned to follow the rules. We were going to park in the parking lot, hike in, have a picnic breakfast and say a few words of remembrance. After a beautiful drive up high in the mountains, we arrived at the observatory to find it closed until 9am. No matter, we parked our cars (in between two no parking signs mind you) and decided to take the hiking trail. Then we remembered...rattle snakes....probably not a good idea to go tramping through dense brush in the early morning hours of a warm summer day. The sisters turned toward the gate, ignored the large "Authorized Personnel Only" sign and started walking. Every fork in the road, we took the "No Entry" path. This is a large observatory, used by the local, state, and federal government. Just on the other side of the observatory lies a large military base. Not to mention that we were trespassing through mountain areas during a time of high fire danger. Were we really making the right choices?
Upon arriving at one of the smaller domes, they decided that this was the place. Sister J quickly said a few words, Brother B talked of missing his mother on this, her birthday. We held hands and shared the brief sadness. Then, realizing that the opening hour was approaching we dashed back to the "No Parking" zone hoping our cars would still be there.
During the walk back, a large utility truck turned a corner and headed towards us. We all thought that we were caught. We drew a collective breath, all hung our heads and kept walking. My guilty mind thinking..we're going to be arrested! We're all together so who will come bail us out? The truck passed us by of course. No surprise to my husband and his siblings. We made it out of the observatory safely and thankfully our cars remained where we had left them. No tow truck, not so much as a ticket. How do they get away with it?
As we said goodbye and headed back down the mountain, I thought I heard the laughter of a mother at her sweetly misbehaved children.
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