Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Then I thought if I had a subject, then maybe I would feel focused and able to write consistently. And maybe it would be interesting and people would want to read about it. And it would at least get me writing every day, right? And that would be good practice in being a legit-real-life writer someday, right?
When I started all of this, I picked my home to be my muse, this Green Acres land. I was excited to take so many pictures and write about what we were growing and what we were learning and what I was making with our garden glories.
And then we had the strangest season.
Our tomatoes didn't grow.
Our zucchini and squash developed a case of cutworm (strangely, not appetizing).
Our corn didn't germinate.
Our apples didn't bud.
Our grapes didn't fruit.
What the? How did? But yes, we did, we utterly and completely messed up a lot of things in our garden this spring and summer.
And now we sit in winter's solitude, trapped inside with nothing to show for it but our potatoes. And my blog sits here lacking a whole lot of what I had planned for it. I'm not quite sure what to do with it all. I think it is important to keep writing but am not certain this format is working for me. I don't expect feedback. I am using this post as another writing exercise: to throw out everything within onto the page and see what it looks like in morning's light.
Here's to a clear morning!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Putting up the tree was such a production when I was growing up. We had to clean up the living room and then form an assembly line from the garage in through the kitchen. Five kids made this assembly line pretty efficient. Dad would go up into the attic and grab tree branches and hand them down and we would scurry back and forth piling all the same-sized branches in separate piles in the living room.
Then Dad would come in and set up the base. We would hand him branches to put in the right places and sometimes we would help put them in, until we couldn't reach anymore. Then Dad would put the top of the tree on and mess with it for a while, smoothing out branches and making sure it looked "just so."
Once the tree was assembled, we were banished from tree set-up until Dad had put the lights on. This was always an excruciatingly long process. He would check to make sure all the bulbs were lit, string a bit, take it off, re-do it and on and on. We would come in and check on him, see if he was almost done, fling open the ornament box and plan which ones we would hang first, fight over a few, get sent to our rooms, get sent to the basement to grab a different string of lightbulbs, and on and on.
Finally we could put ornaments on. I had my favorites. I loved the little pram with a top you could flip back and forth. I loved the little cheesemaker you could spin around and around. And I loved the little china doll in the red and white checkered dress. And then I played with the ornaments the rest of the Christmas season.
Yes, you read that right. After the painful process of putting up the tree correctly (and I didn't even get into the tinsel catastrophes) I would remove ornaments from their place and use the Christmas tree as my own personal dollhouse. Even baby Jesus was snatched from the little barn house in front of the tree for my reindeer games. He liked to play hide and seek - as in, I would hide him on the tree and have another sibling find him. Is this sacrilegious? In any case, the little china doll was married to the clown whose legs moved up and down with a string, and that was why they had the pram, except baby Jesus didn't fit in the pram, which was very unfortunate.
I wonder if I will have a little girl someday who plays with the ornaments on the tree. I wonder if I will be upset with this practice, after the effort of putting up the tree. I look at some of the ornaments that we have... and I think that they are just begging for little hands to pull them down. The Mister has quite a classic car collection... and I have a few fun ones, including this little guy, Mr. Pengy.
For now, it's just me naming my ornaments. You should see the Gatlinburg Grizzly, and the Marshmallow Man! Perhaps this post should be called: Why I Need Therapy: Christmas Ornament Edition?
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Our unspoken desires were also the same, but we didn't know it at the time: it really wouldn't feel like Christmas without a tree.
We only had a few holiday gatherings planned at our own home. Everyone knew we were newlyweds. We didn't really need a tree. Still, that childlike spirit that comes around each Christmas was revealing itself in both of us: we really wanted a tree for Christmas.
On the outside, we proceeded with our plan. I found some ornaments in the Target $1 section, "for next year," and Mister continued to price out trees, "for after Christmas."
Thanksgiving arrived, along with the numerous advertisements. Grandpa directed us to the front page of the Home Depot ad - "7 ft tree with LED white lights: $49.99." It was not quite like the tree we had our eye on, but a solid substitution.
Still, we were not black Friday shoppers. Mister decided that IF he woke up on his own without an alarm clock being set for so early THEN he would perhaps go out and purchase this tree on sale for such a fabulous price. We went to sleep with visions of turkey, turkey-trot run, and our (maybe) tree.
Mister woke up at 5:13am.
He left our house.
He went to Home Depot, picked up the tree, paid for it at self-check-out with a gift card we had received from our wedding (read: free tree!!!!)
He crawled back in bed next to me at 5:37am.
Around 9am, we awoke joyously and ran downstairs to look at the tree box. We set up the tree. We gathered ornaments we had collected for years and put them on our tree. Many of these ornaments had never seen a tree before, though they had been owned for years. These were ornaments I was told to save, "for when you have your own tree someday."
And my, it is lovely to have my own tree. Mister and I stood back to admire our tree, surprisingly we had a good distribution of ornaments, evenly spaced, plenty of color. Further confirmation that we were made for each other, and that this tree was made for us.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Blurry cell phone picture taken so that I could look up the answer at home. Friend leaned across counter at Starbucks and asked as we awaited our Peppermint Mochas and received the answer immediately: so be it.
Further internet searching reveals duplicate meanings: verily
or the more common: truly.
How wonderfully fitting that we end our prayers with this word, confirming that yes, so be it, verily, truly, You are our God and we offer You praise.
I love this season we've entered in, the season of Advent. Four weeks of waiting, anticipating, and celebrating our God's arrival on this earth, and also waiting and anticipating His return. It is only fitting that this season - no - HIS SEASON be celebrated with festive lights and decoration, beautiful songs and opportunities to be with friends and family as His peace covers us all. Amen.
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
Monday, November 21, 2011
That was one of my Thanksgiving jobs. Ripping up bread. And sometimes eating little bits of it because for stuffing Dad sometimes bought white bread. NEVER allowed in our kitchen except for this one purpose so it was quite the treat. My parents ran around cleaning and cooking and preparing... and I watched television and gorged myself on white bread.
We would go to church on Thanksgiving and I would try to rush us out as soon as possible so that we wouldn't miss the entire Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Why I thought this parade was so important is beyond... oh wait. It's because they have teeny-bopper musical guests lip-sing for about a minute each at various points of the parade. Oh yeah. That's why it was important. You never knew the line-up and I certainly didn't want to miss my faves.
My second job was to create place cards. We were so creative. They were beautiful. And then my mother let us try and seat all of our relatives by ourselves. When family arrived they always wondered why the seating arrangement was so bonkers - I mean why would you seat a one-year-old without a parent in at least a three person radius?
I know that in those moments, I wasn't thankful at all. I took it all for granted. I wish that I had a spirit of gratitude in my younger years for all of the time I was able to spend with my siblings and cousins. Though we live in an age where technology can connect us across states and countries, it certainly is not the same.
I feel warm just thinking about these events. It was so much fun to have the whole family together, with tables lined up and stretching across the great room, a fire raging in the wood burning stove, and a delicious dinner to share.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
(Because I am way too focused on the December holiday and need to slow down and appreciate this one first)
A - Apple trees in my yard
B - "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott, encouraging me to write very bad first drafts everyday
C - Cards in my mailbox
D - Doggies and Down comforters (file under: things to snuggle with)
E - Etsy
F - Family and Friends
G - Green Acres, my home :)
H - Harvest time
I - Ice skating season ~ soon!
J - Jewelry: a new found appreciation
K - Kitchen victories
L - Leaves in reds and yellows on the running trail
M - Menchies, the new frozen yogurt place
N - Nephew :)
O - Opportunities for new adventures
P - Peaceful Pond
Q - Quiet times
R - Running and the ability to run
S - Starbucks (in red cups! - oh shoot! Must focus on current holiday!)
T - Teachers
U - User friendly websites (it was either that or underwear..)
V - Vacations
W - Weekends
X - Xtra scoops of cheesy potatoes
Y - YouVersion - a saving face app :)
Z - Zumba! I am liking this dance class
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
when the sun is setting and streaks of orange, pink and purple stretch across the sky
and the air is cool but not cold
and I have arrived at home with minimal traffic
with enough time to get in a run before yoga
and the run is encouraging and I feel strong.
There is nothing quite like running through quiet streets
and seeing another neighbor enjoying his run too
while we are both wearing shorts in November
and it all brings me a sense of deep satisfaction and peace.
Monday, November 14, 2011
It's raining hard tonight. The noise on our flat roof is loud and sounds like it is a very treacherous storm. It seems like today would be a good day for building a fort. An inside fort. I don't know why I think this, because I only had outside forts when I was a child.
The first outside fort was in the woods in my backyard. It wasn't really a fort, rather a clearing in the woods that we called our fort. It was an oval shape with some old pieces of cement block that we used as chairs. It had a bathroom, rather a hole in the ground about three inches deep. The bathroom was only to be used by boys. I didn't really know why, but I didn't question it since I didn't really want to go to the bathroom out there anyway.
One day, the fort disappeared. The boys had been in the woods and reported there were flags everywhere. Someone had invaded. And soon, all the trees were gone and so was our oval fort with a men's room.
The next time I made a fort was at my cousin's house. We split into pairs and ran into the woods as if it were a fort building competition. The fort I made with my cousin was probably the worst of the three. Not so much a fort as a circle of sticks standing upright in the ground. The boys made a teepee. The other girls used a fallen log as a base. So much creativity. Fort building creativity. Fort building creativity that I lack.
I wanted to be good at building forts because I wanted to have my own space. Our house had too many people, too many voices, too much noise. I wanted to be able to sit by myself. I wanted secrets. And I wanted quiet.
My poor fort making abilities meant I had none of this.
Tonight, I sit in my quiet fortress of a home, as usual, wishing for what I don't have: my people, their voices, and the noise that means we are all safe at home together.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
I tell the Mister that I wish I had lived in the city. Just for a short while. I follow city dweller blogs and crave their apartments high in the sky, their elevator rides, their grocery store trips by foot. Let's not even start on their glamorous wardrobes. I think it would be an exciting lifestyle. So many people around. So many restaurant options. So much noise.
When I spent a few nights in New York City I loved the sound of the streets below me. It was New Years, December to January, and I slept with a window open so that I could hear the sirens, the car horns, and the movement.
I am grateful. There are lovely things about suburbs too. Shopping is easier with a car than just my hands holding bags laden with groceries. The air is cleaner. There are more parks and trails for running. Children can play in the neighborhood streets fairly safely, which is wonderful for bike riding and large chalk murals.
But I am also grateful that our home is close to the highway. Because in the winter, when the trees drop their leaves, I can hear city. I hear the motorcycles, I hear the trucks, the sirens, the car horns, and all that movement.
And I couldn't think of a sweeter sound to be the soundtrack of my dreams.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Swim lessons, swim team really, was a full body workout. A full body workout right around lunchtime, so I never ate very much before lessons, because who wants to swim on a full stomach. After swim lessons, it was chow-down time.
One sibling would grab the mail from our box so that we would have something to read for chow-down time. We had our favorites: Parents magazine was good, Real Simple was excellent, and of course any newsletter or personal note addressed to my mother was fair game. If it was a slow mail day we would gather our most recent library books.
Almost always, we had Adventures in Odyssey playing. And for our snack: cheddar rice cakes and goldfish. And oh my word. We absolutely consumed the rice cakes and goldfish. Often a second bag of rice cakes was needed. Or a bag of popcorn. Or two bags of popcorn. We were famished. It didn't matter that mother was preparing dinner as we were snacking because we were so hungry. We would sit there, reading, listening, and snacking for a solid hour.
And as much as I like rice cakes, Odyssey and reading, the best part was that we were relaxing. We were clearing our minds. We were giving our bodies a chance to make it to the end of the day.
When I come home from work I go for a run or start making dinner. It is not restful. It doesn't help me to clear my mind. And it doesn't give me an extra oomph! to make it to the end of the day. And the worst part? You can't find those rice cakes anywhere. Off the market. Completely.
Some days I just need a good rice cake, and an hour to truly enjoy it.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
For many, many, many years we went to Marc's Fun Time Pizza Plaza, a predecessor to Chuckie Cheese's. And we had a blast, playing games and earning tickets and cashing them in at the end of the night for twisty straws and bouncy balls. We moved on to bowling with another family who didn't celebrate Halloween. We felt like we were almost-normal since we had met someone like us who did not Trick or Treat. Plus, their mother always gave each of us a gigantic bag of candy since she was not opposed to that part of the holiday.
Last year was my first without the family bonding evening. I bought candy and was anxiously awaiting the time when I could open my door, admire the costumes and hand out yummy candy. We had six little Trick or Treaters come by. And I didn't see a single one. Mister was working in the yard that evening and brought the candy bowl outside with him. He saw every single costume. All six of them.
We don't have sidewalks in our neighborhood, and the majority age group around these streets is 65+. There are not a lot of children, (obviously, with only six little ones running around on Halloween night!) and there is not a safe place for them to walk. I am not sure exactly what we will do when we have little ones. I know I will want to dress them as little ladybugs and pea-pods but oh what to do about this no sidewalk issue!! My parents still live in the neighborhood where I grew up, overpopulated with children at all times and sidewalks all over the place and neighbors ready to hand you your own bag of Snickers because they are so very generous. Solution: we will take our family and Trick or Treat in my parent's neighborhood. My mother cannot know about this. I will bribe my father to keep the secret with candy. This is a perfect plan.
Until then, please come by Trick or Treaters! I bought some candy and I have a pretty carved pumpkin to greet you!
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Wondering what we did without our iMac.
Monday, October 17, 2011
We tell our parents we can't sleep without our favorite baby dolls, proceed to play with baby dolls all night, "my baby needs a diaper change," "my baby is learning how to walk," and then in the morning both baby dolls are on the floor. I think this was the first indication that I would not be a good snuggler. Sorry Mister.
We tell our parents we can't sleep in the dark. We need the nightlight to be on at all times. No Daddy, you can't turn it off when you go to bed. We NEED it. And then we use the nightlight to read stories until very late at night, and then "GIRLS! IT'S TIME TO GO TO SLEEP!"
We always got in trouble for having too much fun.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Tonight: Indonesian Stew over Rice. Translation: Hachee. Yummy? Absolutely!
Feels like a success. The meat wasn't quite so tender, the carrots weren't quite as cooked, but the eaters were happy! I continue to surprise myself by creating food that is edible. I'll never forget the day I set spaghetti on fire in my parent's kitchen. Babysitting, dogsitting, and kitchensitting didn't jazz that night. Picture Olympic torch in the shape of uncooked spaghetti noodles and you are picturing the exact details of the night. Enter a yapping dog and a crying toddler and you can see why I've been a little skittish around the cosina.
Tonight was a victory!
"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on."
I've been hoping for something that makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning, something that makes me proud, something that I can look at and say, "this is great work." I believe in great work. I still have to find it, but I do believe.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
All the rain that has been pouring down for the past week has clogged my mind with misconceptions about this season.
It is a lovely time of year.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
I had to stop at the store on my way home to get meat for burgers on the grill. A delicious summer meal (don't care what everyone thinks - summer is not over until I go on my vacation!). I wasn't feeling too cheery today so I bought an avocado to make the meal even more delish. And while it looks perfectly pretty and smooth... it was not ripe. In fact, it was very hard and not even tasty. Drat. So I skipped my run and am listening to Sufjan on repeat. Please come quickly my vaca...
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Tell me the story of when I ate plants.
Tell me the story of when I learned to read. (Age 4 by the way... genius = me)
Tell me the story of when I was born.
And part of the reason I needed to know so much about my origins and place in the family is because for years I was completely confident that I was adopted. This theory has been blown to bits as I've aged and developed into a female version of my daddy. At the time it really seemed logical to have been picked up off the street in a Moses basket. And the other part of the reason I needed to know where I came from and how I belonged to my parents is because deep down we all just want to belong to something or to someone.
Because I remember reaching for the hand of a parent because I belonged to them and needed to stay with them so I didn't get lost.
And I can remember going to college and trying out numerous clubs and social groups trying to fit into somewhere.
And I still love to say to my husband "I'm yours" and rest knowing that we belong to each other forever even though they don't play that Jason Mraz song anymore.
I guess we can do that with God too but the stories wouldn't always be so pretty.
Tell me the story of when I denied you.
Tell me the story of when I decided my way was better.
And still, tell me the story of how I am your child and tell me about the great love you have lavished on me.
It feels good to belong.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
The garden is way more overwhelming than I anticipated. Actually, I don't know how I can even say that because really, I make the Mister do
As for renovations - there has definitely been a halt in progress. The garden and yard upkeep is so time consuming... but I have been working on my ideas! I bought foam and fabric to make a cushion for a built-in bench by the fireplace. I guess the bench is actually for storing wood but when we start making fires in that fireplace I'll just move my cushion. So far in one year we have not used that fireplace at all. When you have three you can be kinda choosy so I am choosing to make that the decorative fireplace. I also spray-painted a mirror black and Mister hung it up for me in our front hall. The little touches do make a big difference. I am working on acquiring more to hang up on the walls because I think that will really help. For my birthday I am wishing for many gallery frames to fill up my upstairs hallway with family photos and such. I think it will look really great when I get it together but even still I am feeling very very very proud of myself.
It's been a great first year :-)
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Still, it's a strange phenomenon. I had to take the Mister with me to stop me from buying something in every garage. I overdose on generosity. Or maybe I'm just a sucker. In any case, I can't walk out of some little old white-haired lady's garage without buying something to make her feel good about her former belongings. Which is why the Mister has to come and help me realize that tarnished silver serving pieces will never be used in our home and a small Amish made table and chairs isn't a good fit for a home with no children. How do you just walk out? I view this as a huge insult - "you have no taste." I say "thank you" to everyone when we leave their garage. I don't know exactly what I am thanking them for, I guess for the opportunity to peruse their things, but I feel I must say it.
We did wind up with a beautiful mirror for our front hall, Christmas stockings that I adore (and that still have tags on them), a little pitcher perfect for the homemade grape juice we've been hoarding since last year, and a small cutting board with a sweet depiction of Holland, windmill in the distance and all. I spent $14.50. Thank you.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I hated being outside in the heat with bugs buzzing around my head trying to attack me for stealing berries from them. I was embarrassed to have brought friends along for such an activity. What would they think of me and my family? Would they think we were too poor to buy berries at Giant Eagle?
Today I am grateful. My mother taught me how to be a master berry picker. Our blueberries are almost ready and I am hoping to arrange a mommy&me date. I may even give her two pints of berries!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Oh, run a 5k, mow some of the lawn, tie up daffodil leaves, and start the garden. We were a sweaty mess, but we've got potatoes planted. We've got brilliant sunburns too. :-)
Welcome to this summer. It's your last summer to be a child. So go ahead and let it out, be a bit reckless, make a few mistakes. In a few short months, you will transition into an-almost-adult lifestyle. More will be expected of you in each day going forward. You will never be able to return to the carefree life you live now.
Savor this summer. And the next three summers. After that, you won't know what summer is. Summer will just be a hot day when you're dressed in a professional costume sitting in an air-conditioned office while you hear the shouts of youth from the streets.
Dear Graduate, I'm so jealous of you, running around in shorts and Old Navy flip-flops. It's not even worth it for me to buy Old Navy flip-flops - even on the days when they are on sale for one dollar - because the hours I will spend wearing them will be so very few. You probably think your life is so boring, but let me assure you, it's just beautiful.
Goodness. Getting old is tough.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
My training had not been as smooth as the previous year. My legs ached and my ankles bled. I ran in either snow or in rain. There was no sunshine from January through mid-May. To say I had no great expectations for my second 1/2 marathon would be an understatement. I knew I would be lucky to have the same time as last year. A few days before race day, high on delicious Asiago Chicken Penne and rested from shortened runs, I decided I would just enjoy my city.
Lucky for me, I had trained in the rain. There was a light drizzle that Sunday morning, more like a mist. The temperature was cooler and perfect to warm up in. The start was uneventful. We took to a highway next to the lake but the mist was so thick the lake was hidden from us. All around me, people were commenting that while we don't have a glorious view and the weather is not picturesque, this was our city and that's why they were running. I agreed whole-heartedly.
We were rewarded as we ran west into the neighboring suburbs. There were spectators out! They held their umbrellas and huddled together tightly, but they were there holding handmade signs, ringing cowbells, cheering and clapping. It was beautiful. The misting rain showered us all with feelings of pride. This is our city.
There was one man sitting in a lawn chair in his front yard, no umbrella and no coat. He shouted the same thing, again and again: "Good job runners! Tremont loves you!" My friend who walked the 1/2 marathon and finished almost two hours after me said that while many folks had returned to warm cars and hot showers, that man was still sitting there shouting when she walked past. "Good job runners! Tremont loves you!"
That man makes it so easy to enjoy my city. We had a beautiful race.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Maybe the problem is that I was raised to believe work was something you wanted to do. Isn't that what our parents and teachers said - what do you want to be when you grow up? Wasn't that the question at my high school graduation - what do you want to study? Now I am here, and what I want doesn't seem to exist in a real job. Who has my dream job? And when are they going to retire? Times are different and we are all holding tightly to our current jobs regardless of whether it is a good fit or we enjoy it. We fear unemployment. And we fear unemployment because of one more question - what do you do for a living? It's the standard opening line when meeting someone for the first time...
If life is made up of more than just a nine to five, should the job matter this much? If what we do is just one extension of who we are, why is what we do the only thing we mention to others? Unemployment often feels like failure. We fear failure. If it must be failure, it is just failure in one aspect of life. We don't have to fail our other responsibilities or commitments.
I want to live a life that is not defined by my job. As unsatisfying as my job is right now, focusing on the rest of my life is the only thing that will keep me sane. I live on a beautiful property. I am married to a wonderful man. I have two loving families. I am currently learning about how social media is a tool to aid non-profit organizations - on my own time. I am excited about my next big travel adventure. I am in the middle of decorating my first home and making it look like me and Mister. I run. I walk. I have quick access to beautiful trails.
I'm a twenty-something. I don't like my first job. And until I find something that makes me want to bake muffins and bring them to all my co-workers, I'll re-direct my thoughts so that I can remember daily that my life is beautiful.
Monday, May 2, 2011
No TV? Wellllll, we have a television box. But no cable. And no converter box. It works great for watching movies! Which we enjoy every Friday night, along with some pizza and popcorn.
This is a shocking thing to most of our peers. Frankly, it’s an expense we are not willing to have right now. We will sit down and watch movies together, but neither of us have a “show” that we have to tune in for every week. I hear my co-workers talking at lunch about The Bachelor or The Apprentice. I have nothing to contribute. And surprisingly I am all right with this. In high school I had a favorite show or two for every night of the week. My schedule was the TV guide. Now in our first year of marriage, it doesn’t have the appeal it once did.
We woke up this morning and had breakfast together, and didn't turn to media until we had parted for the day. Mister heard the news from the radio. I saw it on the Book. (Note: I am on the Book less since giving it up for lent... I really really am) I like that we are don't depend on television to relax our minds after work. We arrive home, we run, eat dinner together, and talk. We read - he reads the paper and I read my Real Simple magazine. We may watch a movie and cuddle. We try to be in bed by ten. He has to be up at six for work and running makes us both tired.
I wonder if we would be so together if we had TV. And even with all this together time, we can’t wait for the weekend when we can spend MORE time together. We read emails together. We plan our budget together. We talk about how we want to decorate our house. Would we talk so much if we had television? What if I don’t want to find out? It would be an interesting experiment to have television for a time and see how our lives change. Would I become addicted to a stupid sitcom? Would he spend hours watching reruns of Family Guy? Would our television time be separate or would we watch together?
I think we have a good thing right now. Someday, we may fit TV into our budget. I’ll savor the present. Our life without TV. Our first year together. Documented by trails carved in ice by our skates and mud on our running shoes, and not sedentary lives seated on the sofa. And we still heard the same news that everyone else did, maybe just a few hours later than most, but we both felt rested when we got up this morning. :)
We know exactly what we are missing out on, and I think it’s the best decision we have made.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
|These daffodils grow right outside the kitchen window. It has been fun to see them beginning to shoot up through the snow!|
|Apple tree starting to bud!!|
|We don't know what this tree is called, but it has these beautiful white flowers!|
Of course, now that spring is here we have to get ourselves in gear and prepare for planting! We have apple trees, raspberry bushes and grape vines that Mister has already pruned and prepared for harvest. I hope that we plant a few tomatoes, some sweet potatoes, zucchini, and yellow squash. I have a creamy pasta recipe with zucchini and yellow squash that I can't wait to try!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
So that is why Mister, who is not a give-it-up-for-lent type of person, suggested we give up the Book for about forty days and nights.
I wrote a goodbye book status and deleted the app from my phone's home screen. I felt like the goodbye was rushed, as we made the decision pretty late in the day on "Fat Tuesday" but I had to let my peeps know I would be gone. I didn't want anyone to get offended if I didn't respond in two seconds.
It was difficult when co-workers would converse about a picture posted (in this case, an adorable new puppy that I desperately wanted to see too!!!) or a relationship status change (I hate being the last to know!) but after the forty days were over, was it really that bad?
We decided that it wasn't that bad after all, and resolved to spend less time on the Book. Without the Book, we read actual news, talked to each other more, and had to use our own brains to remember birthdays, due dates, and other items. It was very strange, and yet, peacefully quiet. There is a lot of information in my newsfeed that just feels like "noise" to me. And not a noise that I find uplifting. In fact, two days out, I resent my Facebook profile, as it has now become an item on my to-do list that I feel like I must tend to promptly.
Summer is coming soon, and with summer comes planting, weeding, and then enjoying our garden. It's going to be a lot of work, and I don't think I'll want to use my dirty fingers to be checking the Book for updates...