the middlest

I fear middle age has conked me on the head rather on schedule. I say this because a concession has been made. It's official friends, I have purchased my first pack of granny panties. Granted...these are microfiber granny panties but they still come up to my belly button all the same and appear alarmingly of-girth when I side-eye them before plunging the somewhat still-shapely heft of my legs into the ample leg holes of my brand new microfiber chic granny panties.

It. Had. To. Be. Done.

You see, dear friends, as of late, I have succumbed to the chafe of my thighs...I'm not bemoaning the heft but rather appreciating how much they love each other...they just can't get enough..and so, they hug... All. Day. Long. I mean get a room already, ok?

So, due to the lovefest that has been happening, I have had to encase them in bike shorts or skimmies, or leggings or pettipants, or a combo of two or more and when that happens, there are multiple waist bands embracing my lovely ample self and well...there are lumps and a snowman effect may happen. Sigh.

What to do? What to do? I thought, and I thought, and I thought some more and my a-ha moment happened whilst doing laundry and I eye-spied my hip-hugging-bikini-shaped skivvies from the juniors section of JC Penneys. With a heave and a ho, a sigh, and an eye roll, I knew I needed to embrace the middle of my middle-age and invest in some granny panties.

And so I did. 

Here's to new adventures, no?

getting gussied

I've been bitten by the Lularoe bug. Some prints are a bit kooky even for me...some styles are not my thing...but when the print is right, I'm all over it. I have spent a small fortune getting swept up in the mania but am s l o w l y coming out of it and fine tuning...I know, I know...I am always fine tuning my closet but this time...I promise it is coming together. Next year it WILL happen.

p.s. #doorstopkitty says "Hi!"

have (sour) peaches, make (sweet) sauce

The mama a-go-go's peach tree actually produced some fruit this year...for awhile there it was touch and go. Aadly, the fruit, while stunning, is a bit tart with a slightly bitter after taste. Weirdly, the peaches also make my teeth feel squeaky...go figure. To make use of the peaches and to feel productive, I cooked two or three down to a delightful sauce. I used the applesauce approach...chop to bits, toss into a saucepan with a cup of sugar and a half cup of water, a pinch of salt, a generous twist or two (or three) of black pepper and hope for the best. We ate it on ice cream, pork roast, burrito bowls (like slasa), and on our oats. I even enjoyed a spoonful or two in fizzy water and/or iced tea. It was more sauce than we could handle really, the jar got stood up and scootched to the back of the fridge where it became forlorn and forgotten. Thee wasn't too much leftover but the fuzz came to the party and it had to be ditched. On the plus side, the jar is now fresh and waiting for a new partner!

on skeeziness and homemade dressing

It's been too hot to cook so salad it is. I've been lazy and scooping up bagged salads here and there...the kind with the dressing and all the bits wrapped up in a zillion little plastic bags which I am simultaneously grateful for and skeezed out about all the waste. They are handy though, as is the equally skeezy chicken I buy by the bagful from Trader Joe's which gets roasted up and scissored to bits to add a bit of protein to our dinner. This time around though, the greens came from the farmers market (farmer's market?) as did the blueberries (the chicken however is trusty old TJ's). To add to my feelings of fanciness, I whipped up a honey lime dressing with no recipe...a little olive oil, juice from two limes, a spoonful of honey, crushed garlic, and a dash of salt and pepper. Yum!

what am i doing?

I ask myself this almost everyday. What am I doing?

Why aren't you doing?

What are you doing, Jessica?

A whole lot of nothing is what I have been doing.

Not exactly...I mean, I've been working, and making meals, and reading books, but I have not made anything...I have not flexed my creative muscles like I used to and that makes me sad.

This year, I endeavor to create. There is a lot I need to do to get myself in a space to create and I am...in baby steps...it's the damn pink room...it will be the death of me.

This year is the year I will buy art and make art. I will read more books. I will take more pictures. I will go on more walks. This year will be art full. I promise!

f-f-f-f-flaky!

Eegads but these past few months I have felt utterly flaky when it comes to crafting, writing, creating, etc. I have no excuses but good gravy I feel it. Sheesh!

Back in September, I put together seven, SEVEN, different capsule wardrobes. I even photographed them AND I created those photo doohickeys with labels and numbers and everything. When I was putting it all together, I was excited about the colors and combos but when it came down to actually wearing said colors and combos. there was only one I kept reaching for which I suppose is the whole point, to find out what works best for my life, style, personality, and body, right?

So while I was working my way through the capsules, I have worn at least one ensemble from maybe 5 of the capsules, I hit upon a sale at LOFT and bought a few shirts, some trousers that worked, and some trousers that didn't and I fell in love with a few pieces....which I keep reaching for and wearing and while I feel like I am obligated to work through those capsules (the doohickeys are made after all) my heart is just not into it. What my heart IS into is slate blue, charcoal grey, rust, coral, and mauve. Siiiiiigh.

Maybe I will have a photo day and just photograph all the outfits or at least the outfits I have not yet gotten to. I don't know, the pink room is still in need of becoming a room (have I mentioned that I have been feeling flaky?) and I have holiday gifts to make and wrap, not to mention getting the darn decorations out of boxes and onto something. Ooof!

So, in between the flakiness, the attempts at wearing my capsules, work, and life, we went to the symphony, enjoyed Thanksgiving, and we managed to take a wee road trip up to Eureka, California and hike ourselves silly. Pictures coming soon, I hope. I won't promise anything anymore but I will put in some more effort than usual.

Oh! And the plus side of everything? I did some research and found a thyroid medication without acacia in it and have been taking it for two months and things are looking up or are beginning to. I still do not feel anywhere near like my old self but my energy seems to be visiting for longer. I also discovered I have been taking too much vitamon B and taking it wrong for lack of a better word and changing that up may lead to even more energy! I am very excited about that. I miss my old self. Hopefully this will keep my allergies in check and I can go outside again without all the ick that follows.

Cross your fingers for me and please visit again! 

We're on our way to L.A. for a holiday shindig this weekend and we've managed to squeeze in four visits. Looking forward to seeing and squeezing favorite peoples! Wish we had more time to see more! 

let's check out the 'do!

Howdy friends...I'm blogging from the land of ick as I work on getting better from this something that is more than a cold but less than a flu. Either way it is a bad virus...bad and phooey. I've never been good at evading sick icks. I have also not been very good at this thing we call blogging and so before another week or two passes without any bit of scrumdilly I thought I would share this lovely little kiddo gift I made for a wee friend of mine. Hope on over to the 'do! to see/read the details.

we took a walk

 not a long walk mind you, but a nice walk. the kind of walk that makes you feel like you could wander for a long while.

i haven't been walking lately. my allergies have taken over and i have fearfully allowed them to rule. i'm not sure how to fix this but i keep trying different strategies. keep to ocean walks, less pollen around except for that enormous eucalyptus grove or those gorgeous pines (both contain something that force my body into attack mode).

 

keep to short even walks so that my allergy heavy body which has grown heavier this year can walk without making me feel like a miserable failure in the physical department.

 

drinking hot water or green tea or nettle tea to flush out those histamines, taking benadryl before a walk...all sorts of things. the problem is i never know which is working or not working due to all those other factors that creep in. was this walk better because of the tea or because the only trees around us were oak and i'm good with oak. was this walk bad because of the wind or because i wasn't hydrated enough? i never know how a walk will affect me until the next day when i cannot wake up easily or where i am overwhelmed by wheeziness or my throat begins to hurt or the crushing fatigue that knocks me over into napville before i can splash cold water on my face.

 

it's all very very frustrating made more so buy people close to me who just. do. not. get. it. healthy folks who can breathe unimpeded. who can walk without a care so that their legs are strong and the minds uncluttered. super frustrating. sigh.

so i went on a walk and i did everything beforehand and it seems to have worked. i'm not wheezy today. i'm not falling over tired. my brain is only slightly cluttered but i blame that on all the work i have to do. i'm thinking it was pretty good and maybe next week i will try this walk again. rather than beat myself up about it all i need to be kind and take what i can get. a couple of miles on flat ground isn't the worst i could do, right?

until then, i will hide from the pollen outside (it gets gusty in this town) and i will pedal away on the machine in the corner and drink more nettle tea than i know what to do with. mostly though, i will keep my fingers crossed and be kind to myself as i plan for future walks in this pretty pretty place.

pretty vs life experiences

I've been thinking a lot about the damage the internet can do to one's outlook and/or self esteem. I love the internet. I do. I love the inspiration I find here and I especially love all the goodness corralled on Pinterest but I am finding there is something not so great about all this pretty out there. It is inspirational yes but to what end?

I'm not very good at articulating all the things that float about my head. I think I am but then everyone misunderstands and I am left confused by my efforts. But here is what I have been thinking about this new photo worthy world we live in. Pretty is nice. Pretty makes me smile. Pretty is pin worthy...right? Right? I take pictures of pretty things. It makes me happy and it pleases me but that pretty, while it is true and it is there...it is not always present. I actively work on making pretty happen during my days but sometimes it does not happen. And that's ok. Some days there is so much goodness and so much laughter and yet no photos are taken no pretty is shared...does that make the experience any less real?

Does that make sense? Okay, here is another thought...first, I write about this because of all the blogs and posts and photos of things like vintage trailers and glamping and adorable chicken coops and all those current trendy bits that are so pretty and prevalent on pinterest and the like. I love a good vintage trailer, and I really want a chicken coop (complete with chickens but I also want a pygmy goat and a duck...yes a duck). I have for years but those are things that are not attainable for mr. a-go-go and I...not right now and maybe not ever. We've talked about our plans and dreams for these things more than a decade ago before we got married, before blogging was huge, before Pinterest. I'm sure many others have as well.  But these are not gonna happen for us but life still happens regardless...right?

And so while we do not have a nifty trailer or backyard eggs (and I in no way mean any snark to those who do) we do camp, a lot, in a tent the color of a cheetoh on vintage bedding with not a woven rug in sight. We road trip in our tiny car packed so full of gear we cannot see out the back. Sometimes we remember to bring the oilcloth along for a table cover, sometimes I remember to hang a garland but mostly I forget or we are too caught up in the experience which is the point really. Life is not a contest of who has more pretty bits than the other. It is not a race to see whose vintage this or that is authentic. Life is about living, about joy, about experience and well I fear all the pretty we see makes us stop living as we falter in trying to catch up.

Here's a little background as to why I am writing this. The mister wants to build a little truck house. Something like a gypsy caravan that we can travel in. He is very specific in what kind of vehicle he needs for this to happen and frankly he is a bit persnickety about it. As he draws out plans and shows me photos he has found of other trucks I imagine how cool and pretty it is going to be. The colors and happy and all the good stuff I can photograph, pin, tweet, and/or instagram. But this idea has been in his head for four years now. At least. And while I would indeed love to be all braggy and show you the awesome gypsy van I travel in I would much rather actually just get on the road already. All this waiting for perfection is keeping us from adventure and experiences. I'm tired of waiting and I asked him why can't we just get a beat up mini van, throw a mattress in the back and hit the road already. Life is short. Let's experience it to the fullest.

I'm not saying that if you have a pretty trailer you are a traitor, not at all. Go for it, have fun, take pretty pictures but make sure you are doing it for a true life experience and not a show and tell. Polka dot curtains are no match for sitting in a cold, cold creek with tiny fish tickling your toes in the middle of Arkansas reading a ten cent novel from a thrift store in Arizona simply for the joy of it.

Experience is something that you can carry in your heart. Memories are things that can bring a smile to your face (think Arkansas creeks full of tiny fish). I remember how badly I wanted a '57 Bel Air wagon but ended up with a '68 Valiant that was three shades of primer grey instead. While the car did not look like the car I wanted, it still got me places. I still stuck to the vinyl seats as I drove through the San Fernando Valley in 105 degree weather in search of banana popsicles. It still played my rickety old Brady Brunch cassette that six of us sang along to on our way to go ice skating in psychedelic mini dresses and velvet chokers. I do not have a single photo of that car but I remember it fondly. Every bit of it. Sure it wasn't a two-toned wagon but it was mine and it got me to where I needed to go.

I am rambling I know but I really want you to love the life you have. And if you don't, think about the reasons why. If it is because your apartment does not have wood floors or you can't find enough pallet wood to build a table you don't really need (I am speaking for myself here) or because your hard earned money goes to bills more than vintage frocks, make a list of a life experiences you would enjoy and do them. Start small and make them happen. Go out and take pictures of pink things. Write a haiku about your favorite food, watch the sun set, watch the sun rise, listen to a favorite song and dance to it. Pretty or not, take the time to experience the goodness around you. Chances are you'll find the pretty was there all along.

recapping my craftiness in 2013

I've been MIA for a smidge now but I think that it has gone mostly unnoticed as the tide of blog reading has shifted. I'm not getting the pageviews I used to. In fact I'm getting even less than I did when I first began eight years ago! What's up internet? I need to rethink this whole blogging bit...at least the part where I blog for an audience. I will still be adding my moments and stories as they happen and well, as I remember them. It's been a busy year and I hope to add some blather sometime this summer. So for now, since the year is almost half over, how about a peek at all the crafty bits I did and blogged about last year? Wait, I'll do that in a separate post...next. Happy June!

where did this week go?

This was once of those weeks where I worked six days and lordy am I pooped! I did my usual school gig with an additional assistant day plus I taught a terrarium class and then we had an all day event in our little downtown plaza. Pooped I tell ya! So I'm just gonna sit back, post some photos and then enjoy a wee bowl of peanut butter ice cream before attempting to sleep without a pillow as my neck is still out from last week's conference excursion.

a group made terrarium

because pencils always make me smile

experimenting in the classroom

working on capsule photos

terrarium fever

adding a giraffe in honor of the boy-o's birthday.

because pink people! and purple...and blue! 

our school week was full of sun

gathering materials for children's day in the plaza

flower-palooza

the big bin-o-fun! 

         Mostly I did a lot of standing. Standing in the classroom, standing in the yard, standing in the library as I taught my terrarium class, standing by the play pool, standing in the plaza. All kinds of standing and walking, and standing some more. Did I tell you how one of my kiddos photobombed me in my classroom as I was attempting a timer outfit shot? Oh my! The laughter! It turned into an impromptu photo shoot then dance party. My face hurt from cracking up so. Yup, this was a busy week and tomorrow I need to prep my classroom for the week...we're doing gardens and spring...it's going to be fun!

still unpacking {with bonus rant}

and it is driving us a-go-gos crazy. Rather...it is driving the mister crazy but he will say it isn't. I suppose it really isn't but it certainly does cause a lot of strife between us. I'm sure this is not uncommon. See...I am a magpie, he is a raven. I like pretty things, he likes useful things. I have a lot of stuffity-stuff of questionable use. The mister has a lot of useful stuffity-stuff. I like my stuff, he does not and while I'm pretty easy going about other people's stuff, the mister often feels the need to remind me of the uselessness of mine. This may sound harsh and while I agree that much of my stuff is showy and not useful, I cannot help but wallow in irritation until I explode and that is never fun. Makes for two cranky a-go-gos at a cultural crossroad.

Let's see if I can unwrap the thoughts in my head about an individual's culture. I'm not talking about ethnicity or social-economical status. I'm talking about the culture of self, of you. We can compare it to temperament and personality but it is more than that. We are the sum of our parts and many of those parts were picked up along the way from infancy to this morning.

 

I come from a family of collectors and artists. We see things that interest us and we acquire them, display them, collect them, and make them. The mister comes from a family of farmers and engineers. They see problems and fix them. They do not waste minutes and they are most certainly clever, productive, and ridiculously smart. Put us in a room together and it is definitely interesting but put us in a living situation and there is a lot of negotiation that happens.

"You knew the job was dangerous when you took it."

Have you read that before on the blogg-o? This is a phrase that the mister and I use when we are frustrated with one another. We knew what we were getting into and we can't complain. It is a reminder. He knows I have stuff and I know that he simply cannot enjoy a pajama morning.

Back to the culture of self. I grew up with little parental guidance. In many instances I was the caregiver to my mother. In grade school, I got myself up and ready for school and made sure my mother had her tea, a little food and her meds before I headed out the door (we're talking age 7 and up). I lived on the third floor and learned how to tread lightly and move quietly as the downstairs neighbor was prone to complaints and my mother was often too sick to be up an about. What this has resulted in is a preference for quiet and solitude, a light foot, and a bit of mothering on my part. It also means that you let someone finish their nap or their sleep and you do not wake them unless they asked you to (this caused an ENORMOUS fight many many moons ago between myself and a suitor, it was bad and I wish I could forget it, grrr). The mister's family is close and for the most part they all grew up pretty healthy. No one needed naps or mothering and I have yet been unable to hear the mister in the morning. This is not an issue, just an observation. How a tiny bit of your childhood household influences your later preferences.

This goes back to why we do the things we do and why we prefer the things we prefer. I'm a last minuter. I'm pretty sure this is because I was not instilled with a make hay while the sun still shines attitude. I can have all the time in the world to get something done and yet I can't seem to get to it until I have no more time left save for an hour before it is due. The mister, however, hits the task as soon as it is handed out. I get this and I roll with it and I troubleshoot and attempt to "do better" next time and I am grateful the mister works the way he does. What I don't do is attempt to change him or belittle his behaviors. I try to apply this with everyone I know. In my head I think this is how so-and-so works, I need to remember this so that I can meet them in the middle. I may not like the way someone does something but the thing is, it doesn't matter what I like, it is THEIR behavior, THEIR life. Once I figure out how best to harmonize with that person I do. It is not a problem until they or you make it a problem.

Here is what I mean. I used to have a friend that I adored. I still adore them but had to step far far away from them. I figured out how to meet their needs on their terms and did my best to do so. We would get together and I would be the ear they so needed to share with. Did they share loud and often. It became so that I could not get a smidge of a word in and for awhile I realized that this is how it was as I adored this person. But then grandma died and my infertility was diagnosed and I had one enormous paper hanging over my head that needed to be finished before I could get my degree and I needed someone to talk to. To unload with and I knew it would not be them, it could not be them and I figured out I needed to step back and so I did. This isn't about needs being met but about deciphering the other.

I'm rambling but let me try it this way. I am not a phone person. Everyone who knows me should know this by now. I like email. I do not like the phone. I do know that if I want to tell my phone people in my life something important I need to call them. They are phone people. So I call. While I would rather send an email I know that their culture of self uses the phone and since it is I who want to get to THEM, I call. Many of my phone people know that if they need to get in touch with me they should email and they do. It's nice and easy. I know what you want, you know what I want. No big deal. Yet, there are some who absolutely will NOT step out of the culture of themselves to acknowledge the culture of other and work with me. Many many fights have happened over this issue. I am tired of it. I need to contact you and you prefer a phone, I call. You need to contact me and I prefer email you do not call and leave harassing messages. That makes me want to contact you less. Also, get over it, stop complaining and bitching about it. Really. The amount of energy wasted on making sure everyone knows how unhappy you are with me is nothing but a waste of time and an outpouring of negativity. The cortisol you are creating is doing nothing good for your self. Accept it and move on (can you tell this has been going on for awhile?).

Let's see...I'll try to bring this back around...You knew the job was dangerous when you took it...mister knew I was a magpie, he knows this and he needs to let it go when is feeling frustrated. I know he is not a magpie, I need to remove myself from is space when he is frustrated with me. I need to let it go and sing a happy song. I can choose to be in control and I can choose to let it effect me or not.

I could also choose to pretend it doesn't but then go type-ity type all the angst on my blog.

So, do you have a strong culture of self? Does your culture offend others? How do you respond?