If you show a woman a work of geometric art...

...she may begin to think that she can do that. She will ask for $5 and tell you that she has a wonderful idea. You may want to know about her idea, and so she says that she will tell you but she has to go to the craft store and if you will drive her there she will tell you her idea. Once you get the craft store, she remembers that there is yarn on sale and she simply must look at it. A "quick look" turns into 35 minutes shuffling through all the yarn until she finds the perfect color to knit a blanket for a birthday coming up (in three months). Birthdays remind her of photographs, which reminds her that she needs a frame. She looks and looks through the frames in clearance until she finds one that is nearly perfect except for a minor scratch on the paint. The scratch on the paint tells her she should go to the art supplies section of the store, and when she gets there she remembers what she wanted in the first place: paper and paint to recreate the geometric art. Supplies in tow, you head home so that she can begin her project. When you get home, she remembers that she has other paint already. The paint has not been used in a while and is in the closet underneath a year's worth of other supplies. You help her carefully unload everything in the closet until you find, at the very bottom of a box on the floor, her few paint supplies. The woman is ecstatic: she can paint! She rushes to the kitchen table, spreads out her supplies, and begins work. You wait and you wait. She works and works and works. Finally, hours later, it is done. Wonderful! Time to put everything away. You help wash the paint brushes. You put the paint away and replace all the boxes in the closet. You are just about to sit down and relax when *ding* you get an e-mail from a buddy showing you a beautiful piece of geometric art. Of course you have to share, forgetting that if you show a woman a work of geometric art...

Furry babies and other things that I love (an incomplete list)

There are many things that I love, or, if love is too strong a word, perhaps I should just say that there are many things that I like, things that make me happy. Yet my philosophy about lists tells me that I may try to list all of these things but the list will never be complete because no list is ever complete. (Trust me on this one or try it yourself. Write down all of the chores you need to do around the house. You may think that you have everything listed, but give yourself an hour or two or three and you'll find that you keep coming back to the list and adding to it, even though you know that there is no way you'll ever accomplish everything on that list.) So here is a partial list -- with pictures -- of some things that I love. It's nice to focus on the positive, don't you think?

Vietnam (or travel in general).

Of course travel to beautiful destinations means that I miss seeing what I love most in the world, my fury babies:

When I am at home, my furry doggy baby, Lotus, comes with me just about everywhere, even when it means she'll have to sit under an apple tree while Mommy spends hours picking fruit. Of course I'll share some apples with Lotus. She thinks that they are treats and she's right, I just happen to prefer my apples in liquid hard cider form.

Asian pears are perhaps the best fruit ever: sweet and crunchy.

In the summer I have hops growing around the pillars on my front step. Not only are they beautiful and green, they grow so quickly! When the conditions are right -- plenty of sun and water -- they can grow several inches in a day and they wind themselves around the pillars (and anything else that happens to get in their way). It's amazing to watch. Hops also have another purpose: beer.

I love flowers, but I don't like all the work of annuals. Who wants to have to plant something every single year? This photo, however, shows that I will make an exception now and then. Sometimes these flowers, too, will make an exception to their annual rule and surprise me by coming back the next spring. I don't mind.

When it's sunny (which sometimes seems like a rarity here), I find my furry kitty babies, Nick and Nora (think Hammett, not Hollywood), looking like adorable cats curled up together in the sunlight.

Sometimes the furry babies can cause some good-natured frustration, like when I see berries growing in the yard and rush inside to find a bowl for harvest only to return and discover that Lotus, too, loves berries and didn't need a bowl.

A day of running after squirrels or sleeping in sunbeams can be exhausting. And few things in life are cuter than pictures of a dog and kittens sleeping together.

It's because my babies are so cute and I love being around them that I am happy to get a snow day or two in the winter...just not enough snow to keep us cooped up for weeks on end.

When it is cold and snowy and I have a miraculously free day, sometimes I like to spend it studying history or reading a good historical novel. (I really wanted a snow day earlier this week so that I could finish reading my current novel, Douglass's Women.)

Snow days and being stuck inside for a day or two is very nice, but I do love long walks to see beautiful neighborhoods -- exercise for my body and soul.

Occasionally the walks can inspire the desire to create art in some form, usually using spray paint.

Or sometimes the walks will make me dream that I am on a plane flying somewhere fun.

However, sometimes seeing all the other gardens of my fellow neighbors on my walk reminds me that I have my own work to do. It's not always pleasant, but I do enjoy growing food because this leads to two of my favorite activities: cooking and eating.

If we had more space, we'd probably plant our own grapes and that way Honey could make wine without always having to travel to The Gorge to buy a few tons here and there.

Perhaps it's best that we don't have to tend vineyards and gardens that are that large. It gives me more time at home to admire my beautiful furry babies. And few things in life are better than curling up with a pile of cute furriness.

The language of love

Sometimes it's hard to imagine what life would be like without all the technology that we have today. I was one of the last hold-outs (among the people that I know) when it came to cell phones. I didn't see a need for one: wasn't a cordless phone for the house landline advanced enough? Eventually I broke down (something about driving 100 miles a day and getting frequent flat tires may have contributed just slightly to that crumbling of my normally iron-clad will), and now a cell phone is a permanent appendage.  I comfort myself with the thought that because it's the least-fancy of the free phones that it is somehow not quite a total sell-out to technology.  I refused to have texting until last year and my phone lacks any frills that might make communicating via text easy.

I don't know why I have that issue. It's not like we are a technology-free household. Honey is an engineer, a computer engineer. We currently have four computers powered on in the house and a few more that are stored in various closets "just in case." We use iPods, have a projector instead of a television, and every time I walk into a Barnes & Noble I gaze with envy at the Nook display. Obviously, technology is here to stay.

Technology is my friend. One of my brothers, whom I'll call Tin Man for the sake of this blog (and yes, there is a story behind that, but that's for another day), recently returned from deployment. While he was away he did not have a cell phone. Since he's been home we've had a running text conversation.  It was during today's conversation that I realized two things:

1. If technology, specifically the ability to text, were a person I would kiss it because it's made life easier, more connected.
2. The languages of love are varied.

I once pointed out to my family that even though we constantly make one another lose The Game, it's okay. Saying The Game to some members of the family is like saying as you wish. It means the same thing.  And sometimes it's easier -- and more fun -- to say that than to say I love you.

My texts with my brother are numerous. Rarely are they about anything important. But each and every single one says I love you in our own private way: we quote our favorite shows. We may be saying "I come from the number one city for the...how do you say? Murders" or "That's not Aunt Lindsay's nose" or "The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle" but what it really means is I love you. And I missed that while he was away. That is why I am going to be thankful for technology, for cell phones, for texting.  And Tin Man, this is for you:

Army had a half-day.

Thing One and Thing Two...Maybe Even Thing Twenty

I realized that a few of the tasks this week are even more daunting than they first appeared. Like the idea of listing 20 things I enjoy doing and the last time I did them. What's that about? I'm lucky to think of five things that are related, especially when I am this tired.

The trainings I've attended this week have been draining. Not the trainings themselves, necessarily, because they are part of a series I actually find useful. The draining bit comes from the commute.  The sessions are held in a city where I once worked. After driving to that city three times this week and with the prospect of getting up at 5AM tomorrow and making the rounds once more I find myself wondering how I used to drive the 100+ miles each day to work 10-12 hours. Exhausting! I find that by the time I return home I have little energy beyond what it takes to run an errand, clean a bit, make some dinner, and crash. Not really the stuff of which dreams are made, eh?  And so I find that thinking of a list of 20 anything is...difficult.  So here I am. I will start the list. It just may not be finished until later. (And Guilt Monster, I should warn you that I am very cranky when I am tired, so don't bother me tonight. I will mess you up.)

• Knitting. This is something I do almost every night, I just tend to use a loom and I can only make squares or rectangles, so nothing that requires any skill.  Oh, and I rarely finish a project. I'm not sure what that says about me.
• Gardening -- October 2010.
• Walking the dog, taking her on a long walk on a sunny day and exploring neighborhoods. The last time everything lined up for the perfect walk was probably about a year ago. We go on walks just about every day as long as the weather is okay (and even sometimes when it's not), but it's not always ideal.
• Cooking (a real meal, not stressed or hurried or with the need to feed or impress anyone) while listening to Big Band or Sam Cooke. This happened recently, maybe two weeks ago, but I don't remember exactly when.
• Baking (cookies...and then eating said cookies). I don't know when I last did this, but it sure sounds tempting right about now.
• Writing: I'm too tired to fight the Guilt Monster on this one, so we'll just let it slide for now.
• Reading a good novel cover to cover in one day, sitting on the couch the whole day. A few years ago. Maybe 2008?
• Napping in the sun -- the last time this would happen would have to be based on whenever we had sun AND I had time. Given that we live in a very rainy state, I'm not sure when that would be.
• Quilting -- January 2010
• Shopping for clothes (a real excursion, not the "OMG, all my undergarments look more holey than a sponge, I guess it's time to replace them.") -- September or October 2009.
• Getting a massage. This normally happens about once every four years. My back and neck are always in pain and I think it's just a permanent state. But in December 2010 Honey gave me a trip to a masseuse on our little vacation. It was wonderful.
• Holding a baby -- I love the smell of babies. Maybe I just love the smell of Johnson & Johnson. I don't know. But holding a sleeping baby is a wonderful feeling. (And no, I still have no desire for one of my own. I'm not stupid. I know they don't sleep all the time.)  December 2010 was the last time I did this: a friend gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and so I was able to hold him for a while the week after he was born.

I realized that this list right now is probably a lot more narrow than the one that a rested me would  write. And with that realization and the understanding that 1) I have to get up in the morning, and 2) I need to start taking care of myself, I'm going to bed.

Goodnight, y'all.

The Fake Me

One of the activities for this week is to list ten imaginary lives, things that I'd like to do in my dreams. From what I've read, they can be completely outrageous and that's okay: the point is to do little things that are in the spirit of these fanciful personae.

1. Novelist. This has been a dream of mine since I was very young. I am working on this, in some form, and have been for a year or so, maybe more.
2. Singer of showtunes.  I actually confessed yesterday that I indulge this fantasy by singing in my car at the top of my lungs. I sing to whatever is on the radio, or on a CD in the car, or in my head. My favorite, lately, is singing to something off a Glee CD (I have #1 and #2) or singing to Barbara Streisand. The songs in my head, funnily enough, are hymns or songs from The Court Jester or Slipper and The Rose. I can only imagine that it's a hang-over from my childhood.
3. Gardener. More specifically than that, I dream of having a garden that produces enough for multiple families. I guess what I really mean is a farmer.
4. Chef. Not the type of chef that is egotistical or a crazy bitch, as seen on tv, but someone who cooks for people and gets great satisfaction out of doing that on a regular basis.
5. Animal rescue/preserve. Yes, as if having a dog, four cats, and two fish wasn't fulfilling enough, I do dream of having a place in the country big enough to take in rescues and love them, care for them.
6. Rachel Maddow. She took my quiry, nerdy ability to tell stories to children and turned it into a money-making political commentary endeavor. I am jealous.
7. Foster parent (The caveat to this is that I am, in this fantasy, a self-made millionaire who does not worry about money and can spend all the time with the kids and hire a nanny to help as well so that there is constant adult supervision and I am not exhausted. Other than that I'm not interested in children of my own.)
8. Den Mother.  I'm not really sure what else to call this dream. In it, I have a large home and lots of young adults are there. I feed them and listen to them and love them.
9. Pastor. And yes, I know I don't have the traditional religious views, so in my dreams I graduated from a Unitarian seminary. (If only I truly knew what that meant!)
10. Teacher. Principal. Mentor. Coach....Everything that I once was and sort of am now, but in a smaller capacity.  I have dreams of walking in to schools and working together with a staff in a positive manner to make a wonderful learning environment for students. I love working with kids and adults and I love, love, love teaching.

 So what sorts of activities can I do to live out some small part of these dreams? I already sing in the car at the top of my lungs. Perhaps I can make something good to eat to indulge the part of me that wants to be a chef? I am going through a mentoring workshop this week, so that gets to the heart of teaching...it just doesn't place me in a classroom full of needy teenagers.  I can't really be a den mother right now.  So...what?  If anyone is reading this and has suggestions, I am open....