Remember the story of Chicken Little, running around shouting about the sky falling? That is similar to the weather reports we had all week. We were supposed to get a ton of snow, ice and rain making a real mess of our weekend. We got a couple inches and not much else. At least, thats what is out MY window. I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed. I wanted to be buried in weather. I wanted to have a reason to be stuck inside, on the couch, under a blanket. Book in hand and tea nearby.
Now that I see it didn't quite happen that way, I feel guilty for my attempt at hibernation. I feel like I should have gone out. Done something with my weekend. Pretended to be a "hearty Minnesotan" and braved the elements. Why do I do that to myself? I don't like being cold. I don't like running in and out of places traipsing through the slush and muck, messing my shoes, my car and whatever building I enter. Its messy, icky and not "fun", so why do I feel the need to do so? It was fun snuggling up with my book, my blanket and my kids. (Fun for me, anyway, but maybe not for them?)
When is it going to be okay to give myself permission to do nothing? When will I be comfortable with not feeling like I have to DO something or have to be productive? I feel like it is a measurement of how "good" I am... to myself, my children, my family and friends. Some sort of tangible success of who I am. Why? Where did that notion come from? I can't quite put my finger on it, but I don't like it.
I have plans. I have ideas. I have LOTS of ideas. Things I want to try and accomplishments I want to achieve. What I DON'T have is a reason, a motive. No motivation to keep me engaged. My sky may be falling but I don't seem to be concerned enough to get out of the way. Let it fall. I have an umbrella. I'll be okay.
Tea, anyone?
Monday, February 11, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
Lost, somewhere...
Oh, dear blog,
Where is my desire? I think about you all the time, but just not quite enough to motivate me to write. What is wrong with me? I'm lost, somewhere, inside myself and not so sure I want to come out. Not so sure I want to be found, but angry that I am here... trapped so to speak... inside of myself. Alone with myself and not finding that a place of comfort. Not a place I want to be. Why? What's wrong with Me? Why don't I like being left alone with Me? What am I so afraid of?
Where is my desire? I think about you all the time, but just not quite enough to motivate me to write. What is wrong with me? I'm lost, somewhere, inside myself and not so sure I want to come out. Not so sure I want to be found, but angry that I am here... trapped so to speak... inside of myself. Alone with myself and not finding that a place of comfort. Not a place I want to be. Why? What's wrong with Me? Why don't I like being left alone with Me? What am I so afraid of?
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Habits, Loves and Memories
After suffering a few days of setbacks, I had to do a little game of catch-up today for my photo challenge. I had to find A Bad Habit, Someone I Love, and Childhood Memories.
Bad habbit... not so tough. I tend to watch too much TV. I love movies and my DVR is always full of things I need to catch up on. I can admit it. TV. Bad Habbit.
Someone I love. Easy too. My kids. My family. I have a shelf in my living room packed a little too tight with photos of ones I love. The latest of my kids, my cousin Lorraine who is more like a sister than a cousin, her kids and Robert, her husband. Another easy check on the list.
Childhood memories. That one can be a bit tougher. I just did a big post that talked quite a bit about my childhood memories of my grandmother's house and her fruits (which was the photo theme for the day) and I cant really use that again! So what other memories do I have that can be photographed... today... before I have to leave for work? What is readily available?
Books. My bookshelf is full, and that is only a small sampling of the books I own. Barely a dent in my stash. The books in my photograph, and subsequently those on my shelf are not the memories I have, per se, but the memory of shelves and shelves and more shelves filled with books is the memory I captured. My parents are huge book nuts. They are always reading, sometimes more than one book at a time. They read to me as a child. Books beyond my "level" even. It was a passion we shared together. Trips to the library resulted in the exodus of a large stack of books between us. So many, in fact, that my parents created their own system at home to keep track of who checked out what and when it was due so there were no lost or forgotten ones. We even frequented several libraries to gain more variety. It seems a little crazy, but it was something that we shared a passion for and it made us happy. I also think they liked it because it was free. Not many things a family can do together for fun that is free!
I still have a heart for books and my parents still make it their personal mission to keep the local library circulation high. I even got a Kindle for Christmas. I love it and am piling books on it regularly. Somehow I believe that I will always still keep some of the "real deal" around though. There is really nothing better than curling up on the couch, hot tea on hand, a blanket on your lap and a good book in your hands. The smell of the paper and in, the turning of real pages, the story making a movie in your mind.... nothing beats it. Memories from childhood, and new ones in the making. Get busy reading!
Bad habbit... not so tough. I tend to watch too much TV. I love movies and my DVR is always full of things I need to catch up on. I can admit it. TV. Bad Habbit.
Someone I love. Easy too. My kids. My family. I have a shelf in my living room packed a little too tight with photos of ones I love. The latest of my kids, my cousin Lorraine who is more like a sister than a cousin, her kids and Robert, her husband. Another easy check on the list.
Childhood memories. That one can be a bit tougher. I just did a big post that talked quite a bit about my childhood memories of my grandmother's house and her fruits (which was the photo theme for the day) and I cant really use that again! So what other memories do I have that can be photographed... today... before I have to leave for work? What is readily available?
Books. My bookshelf is full, and that is only a small sampling of the books I own. Barely a dent in my stash. The books in my photograph, and subsequently those on my shelf are not the memories I have, per se, but the memory of shelves and shelves and more shelves filled with books is the memory I captured. My parents are huge book nuts. They are always reading, sometimes more than one book at a time. They read to me as a child. Books beyond my "level" even. It was a passion we shared together. Trips to the library resulted in the exodus of a large stack of books between us. So many, in fact, that my parents created their own system at home to keep track of who checked out what and when it was due so there were no lost or forgotten ones. We even frequented several libraries to gain more variety. It seems a little crazy, but it was something that we shared a passion for and it made us happy. I also think they liked it because it was free. Not many things a family can do together for fun that is free!
I still have a heart for books and my parents still make it their personal mission to keep the local library circulation high. I even got a Kindle for Christmas. I love it and am piling books on it regularly. Somehow I believe that I will always still keep some of the "real deal" around though. There is really nothing better than curling up on the couch, hot tea on hand, a blanket on your lap and a good book in your hands. The smell of the paper and in, the turning of real pages, the story making a movie in your mind.... nothing beats it. Memories from childhood, and new ones in the making. Get busy reading!
Monday, January 7, 2013
Just the Right Spot
One of my fondest memories of my paternal grandmother is her kitchen. Every time I think about her, about the times together, they usually start in her kitchen. Believe it or not, not all of those memories have to do with food either. Yes, I have some very fond memories of her baking, cooking, preparing holiday dinners and more laid back Sunday suppers, but that isn't where I'm going with this. There are things that were in that kitchen, things that went on in the kitchen that are the first things that come to mind when I remember her.
She had this beautiful buffet cabinet that was painted a tomato red. That may sound odd, but it was a truly beautiful piece, even to my young eyes. Within the drawers of that cabinet were the fun little finds that every home needed. Pens, pencils, drawing paper, playing cards and the dog's leash. That was the cool part. With just the flick-jingle of the drawer pull you could send the dog in an excited tizzy and grandma in to a fit because the dog was misbehaving. Of course, I wasn't the culprit. It was the dog. He he.
Then there was the cuckoo clock. I was enthralled with the clock. I watched with amazement as she would pull the chains to wind it. I didn't understand how that made the clock keep going, but I know it did. Because she said so. I anticipated the call of the cuckoo and the peek-a-boo visit of the tiny bird that dwell within. I adored that clock so much. It was the thing I missed most when she passed. Knowing I wouldn't get to hear it call out to her home "welcome" and "be loved here" it really made me miss her more.
Also in the kitchen could be found her spiritual "stack". This was her Bible and Bible Study workbooks and notebook, always kept in a neat little stack on the table. Grandma belonged to the Worldwide Church of God, whatever that was. As a small child I wasn't raised going to church every Sunday. In fact, the only time I went to any church or heard about God was when I went with Grandma, or eavesdropped on her prayers. It wasn't until I was older I started to attend church with my parents and begin my christian education. But I digress. However, Grandma was very devoted to her studies and I loved to peek at her Bible with the handwritten notes in the margins and spaces of the text. Underlines of things she felt were important, and further explanation of verses that needed more understanding. I found it all very fascinating because it was obviously so important to her, but yet a mystery to me.
The other important piece of the kitchen (and my memories) was Grandma's fruit. They were always so proudly displayed and I can't remember any time I was in the kitchen that I didn't take the time to admire them and enjoy them smiling back at me. Smiling fruit, you say? Yes. I do. The fruit I speak of are a set of ceramic pieces that my grandmother's sister made for her, and apparently a set for herself as well, though I don't remember those as clearly.
Like her clock and Bible, Grandma's fruit was one of those things that really struck me as being "lost" when she passed away. They were so dear to my memories, and my childhood. It was really one of those things that I couldn't "get over". They were always on my mind and heavy in my heart any time thoughts of her came to mind. I missed my grandma's fruit!
Imaging my absolute shock when I discovered my dearest and closest cousin had been the lucky one to not only save the tomato red buffet, but the whole set of 8 fruits!! I would also later discover that her parents had saved Grandma's clock, and would gift it to me, but that's another story...
Upon preparing to leave from another visit to my cousin and dreading leaving "home" to return to where I live 600 miles north, she ever so casually says that I can choose my favorite 4 fruits. We are splitting the set and sharing what was a dear memory for us both in order to keep it alive in our own homes. I was stunned, and thrilled! I struggled with which ones to choose, but finally decided on my set. Now we each share a part of the grandmother we cherished so much as children, and keep her spirit present in our own homes. Of course, I have them in my kitchen where they belong. Where else could they go?
Oh, and as for the Bible.... my dad shocked me by blessing me with it a few years ago. I pull it out every so often an look at her notes and lessons in her own handwriting, and it fills me with more blessings than I could have ever imagined. All that was, still IS. And all is good!
She had this beautiful buffet cabinet that was painted a tomato red. That may sound odd, but it was a truly beautiful piece, even to my young eyes. Within the drawers of that cabinet were the fun little finds that every home needed. Pens, pencils, drawing paper, playing cards and the dog's leash. That was the cool part. With just the flick-jingle of the drawer pull you could send the dog in an excited tizzy and grandma in to a fit because the dog was misbehaving. Of course, I wasn't the culprit. It was the dog. He he.
Then there was the cuckoo clock. I was enthralled with the clock. I watched with amazement as she would pull the chains to wind it. I didn't understand how that made the clock keep going, but I know it did. Because she said so. I anticipated the call of the cuckoo and the peek-a-boo visit of the tiny bird that dwell within. I adored that clock so much. It was the thing I missed most when she passed. Knowing I wouldn't get to hear it call out to her home "welcome" and "be loved here" it really made me miss her more.
Also in the kitchen could be found her spiritual "stack". This was her Bible and Bible Study workbooks and notebook, always kept in a neat little stack on the table. Grandma belonged to the Worldwide Church of God, whatever that was. As a small child I wasn't raised going to church every Sunday. In fact, the only time I went to any church or heard about God was when I went with Grandma, or eavesdropped on her prayers. It wasn't until I was older I started to attend church with my parents and begin my christian education. But I digress. However, Grandma was very devoted to her studies and I loved to peek at her Bible with the handwritten notes in the margins and spaces of the text. Underlines of things she felt were important, and further explanation of verses that needed more understanding. I found it all very fascinating because it was obviously so important to her, but yet a mystery to me.
The other important piece of the kitchen (and my memories) was Grandma's fruit. They were always so proudly displayed and I can't remember any time I was in the kitchen that I didn't take the time to admire them and enjoy them smiling back at me. Smiling fruit, you say? Yes. I do. The fruit I speak of are a set of ceramic pieces that my grandmother's sister made for her, and apparently a set for herself as well, though I don't remember those as clearly.
Like her clock and Bible, Grandma's fruit was one of those things that really struck me as being "lost" when she passed away. They were so dear to my memories, and my childhood. It was really one of those things that I couldn't "get over". They were always on my mind and heavy in my heart any time thoughts of her came to mind. I missed my grandma's fruit!
Imaging my absolute shock when I discovered my dearest and closest cousin had been the lucky one to not only save the tomato red buffet, but the whole set of 8 fruits!! I would also later discover that her parents had saved Grandma's clock, and would gift it to me, but that's another story...
Upon preparing to leave from another visit to my cousin and dreading leaving "home" to return to where I live 600 miles north, she ever so casually says that I can choose my favorite 4 fruits. We are splitting the set and sharing what was a dear memory for us both in order to keep it alive in our own homes. I was stunned, and thrilled! I struggled with which ones to choose, but finally decided on my set. Now we each share a part of the grandmother we cherished so much as children, and keep her spirit present in our own homes. Of course, I have them in my kitchen where they belong. Where else could they go?
Oh, and as for the Bible.... my dad shocked me by blessing me with it a few years ago. I pull it out every so often an look at her notes and lessons in her own handwriting, and it fills me with more blessings than I could have ever imagined. All that was, still IS. And all is good!
\
Saturday, January 5, 2013
I changed my mind
Today is just another day. We all have them. Days that are not too busy, no special events. Days where haircuts, carwash, groceries and laundry are the highlights. Not a day packed full of photo ops and grand memories, so looking to be inspired for today's photo challenge was not easy to come by.
I will be honest. Day two and I already contemplated not doing my pic-of-the-day. Saving it for tomorrow and the possibility of some great capture was in the forefront of my mind. The great Border Battle football game is on the TV, dinner is done and the laundry just needs to run in the dryer. I'm pretty much "done for the day" and have nothing to show for it. Well, not quite. I did manage to recover $0.49 from the bottom of the washing machine when moving my clothes to the dryer. That isn't much, and certainly not payment enough for the task at hand, as I drop it in my change drawer the old saying "It all adds up" comes to mind. Low and behold there, too, is my pic.
As I peek in the top of my genie bottle shape jar to see how it stacks up, I realize im looking down from a high angle.... today's challenge.
I really like the effect. It's almost an artsy-fartsy look through the narrow neck of the bottle to the bounty below. Okay. Its not much of a bounty, so to speak, but it's a start. I cash it in every now and then and am always surprised at how much a jar of change can yield. Enough to fund mini-rewards and little pleasures that make it worth the while. Another chance to snag a peaceful moment which is always my mission.
I only wish the pockets would surrender some dollar bills as often as it does the coin.
I will be honest. Day two and I already contemplated not doing my pic-of-the-day. Saving it for tomorrow and the possibility of some great capture was in the forefront of my mind. The great Border Battle football game is on the TV, dinner is done and the laundry just needs to run in the dryer. I'm pretty much "done for the day" and have nothing to show for it. Well, not quite. I did manage to recover $0.49 from the bottom of the washing machine when moving my clothes to the dryer. That isn't much, and certainly not payment enough for the task at hand, as I drop it in my change drawer the old saying "It all adds up" comes to mind. Low and behold there, too, is my pic.
As I peek in the top of my genie bottle shape jar to see how it stacks up, I realize im looking down from a high angle.... today's challenge.
I only wish the pockets would surrender some dollar bills as often as it does the coin.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Something Green
I've decided to re-visit my plan to take a picture a day and write about it. This is a slight deviation from the original "rules" that I stated regarding taking a picture of something that says 'peace' to me because I am now working from a pre-determined list of what to shoot. I have set a calendar that has a idea for each day and I find something that fits the bill. Not quite the same freedom I allowed myself before. However.... I still think I can find the peace within this process based on what is in the photo and how it makes me feel. I have this idea that somewhere within that thought lies the opportunity to discover my peace, as was my original plan.
Today's theme is 'something green'. Awesome! I love green. It's my favorite color. I love the color of the leaves on the trees. The bright green of fresh cut grass. Moss. Green can even be seen in water.
Oops. I forgot to mention, its January in Minnesota. Not a lot of green to be found. Yes, pine trees are green. Boring. I'm not a fan of them and am allergic besides, so that is a no. Money is green. Christmas was 2 weeks ago so I don't have any of that! Some of my decorations (yes, they are still up) are green but I really don't want to use those to start.
I decide to turn to the fridge to find some consolation. Hey! I haven't eaten yet today, and I deserve breakfast! There is my green. No, not growing on the leftovers that I need to dispose of. My kitchen nightlight. Its one of those scented tart warmer things you plug in and it melts the smelly wax and makes everything fragrant and yummy. Its a pretty green glass mosaic that my mother gave me not too long ago. I had been eyeing hers and I think she feared for its disappearance so she got me one of my own.
Currently my warmer light is gently wafting the cozy smell of gingerbread in to the room. I love that smell. So warm, homey, delicious and...well... cozy. That may seem odd but it gives me the feeling of wrapping up in a soft blanket with cookie in hand and hot chocolate nearby while a good movie plays on the television. Snuggled up with someone I love nearby. Cozy.
Its funny how a smell can bring that much to a persons mind and senses. I can feel the blanket, almost taste the cookie and anticipate the smooth warmth of the chocolate as is slides down my throat.
That, my friends, is peace.
I wonder if there is turkey sandwich scented wax?
Today's theme is 'something green'. Awesome! I love green. It's my favorite color. I love the color of the leaves on the trees. The bright green of fresh cut grass. Moss. Green can even be seen in water.
Oops. I forgot to mention, its January in Minnesota. Not a lot of green to be found. Yes, pine trees are green. Boring. I'm not a fan of them and am allergic besides, so that is a no. Money is green. Christmas was 2 weeks ago so I don't have any of that! Some of my decorations (yes, they are still up) are green but I really don't want to use those to start.
I decide to turn to the fridge to find some consolation. Hey! I haven't eaten yet today, and I deserve breakfast! There is my green. No, not growing on the leftovers that I need to dispose of. My kitchen nightlight. Its one of those scented tart warmer things you plug in and it melts the smelly wax and makes everything fragrant and yummy. Its a pretty green glass mosaic that my mother gave me not too long ago. I had been eyeing hers and I think she feared for its disappearance so she got me one of my own.
Currently my warmer light is gently wafting the cozy smell of gingerbread in to the room. I love that smell. So warm, homey, delicious and...well... cozy. That may seem odd but it gives me the feeling of wrapping up in a soft blanket with cookie in hand and hot chocolate nearby while a good movie plays on the television. Snuggled up with someone I love nearby. Cozy.
Its funny how a smell can bring that much to a persons mind and senses. I can feel the blanket, almost taste the cookie and anticipate the smooth warmth of the chocolate as is slides down my throat.
That, my friends, is peace.
I wonder if there is turkey sandwich scented wax?
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
So.... what are you bringing, 2013?
Its here. The new year arrived.
I don't like New Years, and I don't get excited to celebrate it. I find it to be a time when we remember things from the ending year (and lets be honest, our memories hold better to the bad than the good) and we make resolutions for the new year that we all know that the likelihood of failure is greater than the chance of success. I know this sounds so negative, and normally that isn't the kind of thinker I am. I am usually accused of being a "Rose-colored glasses" bearer, but at years end/beginning I put on a different pair. They are very grey. I just don't like New Years.
I know that in our minds it gives us an opportunity to "wipe the slate clean and start fresh", but so does each sunrise. Every second that ticks by is a new chance to make that change you seem so sure will work just because the calendar shouts a new number to its name. Its a new you at any turn of the corner but we wait until the page on the desk says to "set those resolutions now". Even the television and radio are shouting it. Funny thing is, in February they will also be shouting about all the resolutions we have already failed to meet and now are being given a second chance to meet with a discount on a gym membership, a better rate on the car loan, or offers of a vacation hot-spot so we can fulfill the promise of more time with family and save a buck too!
Don't misunderstand. All of those resolutions we make are good things and goals we should be setting for ourselves. Most of us set them as an intention to do better, BE better than we feel we were the past year. Noble goals, and valid feelings. We all want to be better today than we were yesterday. There are always things we look back on and wish we could have done differently, and subsequently vow to choose wiser on when or if the situation calls again. So go ahead and plan. Set goals of intention. Be mindful every day. Just please do it because its Monday and not because we have to purchase a new calendar.
What I find most frustrating about the idea of resolutions is the anxiety that sets in when the goals are set, and the disappointment that ensues when one is not met. Neither of these emotions are helpful, not to mention pleasurable to experience. Isn't that what we want? We want to experience pleasure. We want help in the new year. We go to a big party with music, food, drink, laughter, streamers. We count down the final seconds and shout welcomes to its arrival. We kiss our loved ones and shoot confetti at its arrival. Why, then, does the rest of it make us regret its arrival? We sneak the extra cookie when we resolved to loose weight. We chastise ourselves for not going to the gym today because we just don't feel like it. We make excuses when we spend the extra $5 that was suppose to go to the savings because that is the promise you made yourself and the mystical "year".
Believe me, I have a list of promises I thought to make to myself. I haven't shared them with anyone. I haven't even officially written them down, so there is no evidence. However, I already feel the stress of making them happen. The judgement of whether or not I took a step toward accomplishing them. Its as if the New Year is a living thing and has eyes that watch my every move! ISH! This is exactly why I will not participate in the resolution movement. I never feel good about it.
Instead I am in search of a new kind of agreement with myself. One that has everything to do with ME, and NOTHING to do with the pages of the time-tracker on my wall. I will continue to use that to ensure I am on the right day as the rest of the world. Use it to be sure I am going to work (or not, if that is the case) when I should be. Use it to remember important events, and to anticipate things to come. I will not, however, pin a list or share with anyone what I plan to resolve this year in my life.
Funny thing is... I just noticed, I don't even have a "normal" 12-month calendar. I have one of those 18-month planners, and the calendar on the wall is the school year calendar. Clearly I have some aversion to the New Year that goes deep in to my subconscious. So be it! Every day is a day to set a goal or plan to be new in some way. I embrace that idea, and will not feel guilty! Well, maybe a little. Guilt has big claws...
I don't like New Years, and I don't get excited to celebrate it. I find it to be a time when we remember things from the ending year (and lets be honest, our memories hold better to the bad than the good) and we make resolutions for the new year that we all know that the likelihood of failure is greater than the chance of success. I know this sounds so negative, and normally that isn't the kind of thinker I am. I am usually accused of being a "Rose-colored glasses" bearer, but at years end/beginning I put on a different pair. They are very grey. I just don't like New Years.
I know that in our minds it gives us an opportunity to "wipe the slate clean and start fresh", but so does each sunrise. Every second that ticks by is a new chance to make that change you seem so sure will work just because the calendar shouts a new number to its name. Its a new you at any turn of the corner but we wait until the page on the desk says to "set those resolutions now". Even the television and radio are shouting it. Funny thing is, in February they will also be shouting about all the resolutions we have already failed to meet and now are being given a second chance to meet with a discount on a gym membership, a better rate on the car loan, or offers of a vacation hot-spot so we can fulfill the promise of more time with family and save a buck too!
Don't misunderstand. All of those resolutions we make are good things and goals we should be setting for ourselves. Most of us set them as an intention to do better, BE better than we feel we were the past year. Noble goals, and valid feelings. We all want to be better today than we were yesterday. There are always things we look back on and wish we could have done differently, and subsequently vow to choose wiser on when or if the situation calls again. So go ahead and plan. Set goals of intention. Be mindful every day. Just please do it because its Monday and not because we have to purchase a new calendar.
What I find most frustrating about the idea of resolutions is the anxiety that sets in when the goals are set, and the disappointment that ensues when one is not met. Neither of these emotions are helpful, not to mention pleasurable to experience. Isn't that what we want? We want to experience pleasure. We want help in the new year. We go to a big party with music, food, drink, laughter, streamers. We count down the final seconds and shout welcomes to its arrival. We kiss our loved ones and shoot confetti at its arrival. Why, then, does the rest of it make us regret its arrival? We sneak the extra cookie when we resolved to loose weight. We chastise ourselves for not going to the gym today because we just don't feel like it. We make excuses when we spend the extra $5 that was suppose to go to the savings because that is the promise you made yourself and the mystical "year".
Believe me, I have a list of promises I thought to make to myself. I haven't shared them with anyone. I haven't even officially written them down, so there is no evidence. However, I already feel the stress of making them happen. The judgement of whether or not I took a step toward accomplishing them. Its as if the New Year is a living thing and has eyes that watch my every move! ISH! This is exactly why I will not participate in the resolution movement. I never feel good about it.
Instead I am in search of a new kind of agreement with myself. One that has everything to do with ME, and NOTHING to do with the pages of the time-tracker on my wall. I will continue to use that to ensure I am on the right day as the rest of the world. Use it to be sure I am going to work (or not, if that is the case) when I should be. Use it to remember important events, and to anticipate things to come. I will not, however, pin a list or share with anyone what I plan to resolve this year in my life.
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