100 Day Project - Day 2 The Fuzzier, The Better

My daughter Alaina has loved fuzzy blankets ever since she was born.  I remember her in her car seat on the way home from the hospital, turning her head to the side and rubbing her cute, little, baby face on the fuzzy softness inside her fluffy hat.  It was obvious, even with her baby sensibilities, that she preferred some blankets over others.  

When Alaina got a little older, the blankets pictured above came out.  She LOVED them!  Every time we’d go to the store, she’d beg me to buy her another one.  She was on a perpetual quest for the BEST fuzzy blanket...  the softest, the prettiest, the most unusual color.  Before long, she had amassed quite a collection, but she loved every one of them, so it was quite a symbol of her love when, on the day our family cat died, Alaina chose to bury Foxy in her favorite fuzzy blanket. 

“Are you sure you want Foxy to be buried in this blanket?”  I had asked her, “Yes,” was all she said.  We sent Foxy into eternity wrapped in love and the very best of the fuzzy blankets.  Alaina had no regrets.

Years later, Alaina still stops to admire fuzzy blankets on every shopping trip.  Now there are not only fuzzy blankets, but fuzzy pajamas, fuzzy jackets, and assorted other fuzzy items to admire and collect.  This picture makes me smile because it reminds me of when she was a a little girl.  She still adds to her fuzzy collection, but she’s judicious about it.  There’s more to life than fuzzy blankets, but who doesn’t enjoy a throwback to a time when they felt swaddled, protected and wrapped in love? 

100 Day Project - Day 1 The Smell of Plywood

100 Day Project - Day 1

This is a picture of my dad, working on "straightening the walls" in my house.  If you don't know what "straightening the walls" means, well, that's a post for another day.  The focus here is on my dad's shirt.  When I noticed that it said, "I love the smell of plywood in the morning," I burst out laughing and thought, 'OMG, me TOO!'  The smell of freshly cut lumber reminds me of my childhood.  It had been by dad's dream to build his own house, and so he built ours one freshly-cut piece of lumber at a time (no, he didn't cut down and mill the trees also, but if that had been a practical option, he may have considered it).  Seeing something as important as a house taking shape before your eyes in your childhood influences your ideas of what you can do for yourself, and what you can create with your own two hands... anything.  I can build  anything.  

Family lore tells the story that I was barely a year old when my parents purchased the piece of land on which they built their house.  They were looking for land at an affordable price - a large enough piece to give them 'a little privacy,' so the neighbors couldn't 'see into their windows,' was how they liked to put it.  They were first attracted to a piece of land about a mile away - a small stream ran through the front yard of that piece and they thought, how charming! But that piece was out of their price range, so they continued looking and ultimately found the one they purchased - a two acre plot with a stately tree at the top of a hill.  We three ate a picnic lunch under that tree and soon after, construction began.  My dad worked on the house every weekend, and we kids spent summer days in the yard, playing in the sand unearthed by the excavation for the basement.  We kids built our own homes - forts cobbled together with small discarded pieces of lumber, cedar shingles, bent and dropped nails, and other assorted construction detritus.  Through it all wafted the scent of freshly cut lumber - pine 2x4s, cedar shake shingles, and plywood.  Other smells remind me of childhood, too.  Wet cement reminds me of when we mixed and poured the cement for the basement and garage floors; tarpaper reminds me of how we were never allowed to run around the house without shoes AND socks before my dad installed the flooring because the tarpaper on the sub flooring would turn our socks BLACK.  It's the smell of the lumber that I like best, though.  That's the smell that conjures up the start of the project; it symbolizes setting out on the path of your dream... the excitement and wonder are all head of you, and you realize that with your own two hands, you can do it.  

 

I'm Joining the 100 Day Project

I'm looking to establish a daily, dependable writing practice.  A while back I looked online for photo writing prompts.  I was sadly underwhelmed by what I found.  They were nice, but the photos didn't speak to me. Everyone's seen photos that call the phrase, "a picture is worth 1000 words" to mind, but where WERE those photos when I was looking for them?  

Then I discovered The 100 Day Project, and as luck would have it, it starts in just a few days.  I wanted to be a part of something that was "intended to awaken, nurture and sustain your creative spirit through the cultivation of small daily acts for 100 days!"  I wanted in!! But 100 days in a row of writing was kind of daunting.  Sometimes I can write 2 polished pages in a few hours, but normally, idea-to-finished-piece takes me at least a week.  I don't have time for a few hours every day, but could I write a few lines or a few paragraphs a day?  Probably - if only I had a source of at least 100 ideas, ready and waiting and tailored for me. And then I remembered my photo roll...

I have approximately 1300 photos on my phone's camera roll.  The oldest photo is from 2013, and the newest few were taken today.  I'm not saying these are pictures that are "worth 1000 words" but for me, they're worth at least a few lines, maybe a few paragraphs.  Some are the conventional "important occasion" photos; many are a sort of visual bookmark...  something I want to remember - and the photo is my reminder of it.  Who DOESN'T have such photos on his or her phone?    

So beginning on Sunday, January 31st and continuing for 100 days, I'm going to chose a photo from my cameral roll and write about it.  Some posts will be short and some will be longer.  Hopefully, some will be good and quite likely, some will be terrible, but my goal is to be in it for the duration, and NOT QUIT.  

I'd love for you to join me on your own creative journey - cooking, crafting, writing, sewing - whatever floats YOUR boat. We can offer each other support and encouragement.  Let's make the world a more creative place!!

 

Seussian Piano - Finished Piece

Someone asked for a picture of the finished Seussian piano, and I realized that I DO have one.  I tried to post it in the comments on the Seussian Piano post, but alas, I am falling behind in my blogger knowledge so I couldn't do it.  Hope this picture helps. As for the piano, I had intended to paint a black line around the white, and paint foot pedals as well, but I ran out of time.  I made the keys by googling a picture of a piano keyboard and copying that design with black and white duct tape.  Hope this picture helps!

Random Questions...

1. What the hell is with those teeny, tiny front pockets they now put in jeans?  Even if you are the owner of a pair of very small hands, you can only get, at most, half of your fingers in there, so just forget about carrying some cash or a shopping list in there.  Are people actually THAT fearful of getting the dreaded "pocket lines" across their upper thighs?  The only thing worse than this type of pocket is a completely fake pocket.

2.  When you die and your spirit leaves the physical world, and you go on to live in the afterlife, I've heard people speculating that you can present yourself as whatever age most appeals to you.  If this is so, I think I'd choose to be 28, but my big question is:  If I chose 28, does that mean I have to sport the hairstyle and clothes I wore when I was 28, or can I mix and match decades?  I'm not quite sure I want to get stuck wearing what I wore in the 90s for the rest of eternity.

3.  At the time of this writing, QVC is currently selling, for $28.49, a device that reaches for the toilet paper when you can't reach for it yourself.  Why is this even necessary?  If you have limited mobility, isn't it still easier to just remove the roll of toilet paper from the holder and put it in an accessible location before you sit down?  In my humble opinion, you still can't beat opposable digits. 

Gratitude... In the Moment

I am totally going for this living in the moment thing.  Living in the moment, gratitude, connecting to source energy, etc, etc. I get it, and I try to do it.  So, here I am in the beginning of January and I thought to myself, instead of waiting for the perfect photo taking opportunity, I'll just take photos of whatever appeals to me RIGHT NOW.  So this afternoon, when I was about to head out to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner, I grabbed my phone, walked into the yard and found a few interesting things to take pictures of. The picture above is moss growing on a rock on the side of our driveway.  

I know people who hate moss, but I love it.  It's like outdoor carpeting.  Moss doesn't love our summer weather, but in cool and rainy seasons, it looks great.  Since we've so far had a mild but rainy winter, the moss is loving it out there.   Check out this picture below... more moss:

I was happy to see that my pot of thyme is still looking good.  I should have used it in the chicken soup I made last week, but I didn't even think to check it - I just assumed it was dead for the season.

And then I found this marvel, right there on the ground. 

...and now I'm thinking, if a bird can make this amazing piece of fabric, basically, out of twigs and string and found objects and she has just a BEAK and not even opposable digits...

 ...then I can certainly do whatever I want with my life, can't I?

The case for loving January...

Happy New Year - would you believe me if I said that I like January?   A few weeks ago, I saw a post on facebook describing how Winter is really a nurturing season, we really just need to see it as such.  Winter is kind, it said. It showed a graphic of a large oak tree under which were three little burrows.  A fox was curled up in one, a bear in the other, and the third contained a seated young woman reading a book. Winter is nurturing it said, and I thought yes, yes it is. The post described winter as a time to recharge oneself, to look inward, to rest and rejuvenate so that in the spring one would be ready to burst forth with renewed energy into new realms… after a good winter, one would be ready to grow.  How can you be energized for the new if you don’t rest first?  I like the quietness of January… the cleanliness; I like how your surroundings look clean and uncluttered after putting away all those Christmas decorations.  I like getting back to just what’s essential.  

I believe that January is a time for decluttering your environment and your mind.  We all know about actual, physical spring cleaning, but the mental cleaning and pruning is always underrated. January is the perfect time for you to inspect the plants of your life prune and them carefully.  Dig up the bulbs that you’ve mentally planted, cut away the dead bits and make room for new, healthy growth.  

Young people, just like new gardeners, have only a vague idea of what they should grow in their gardens.  They want to keep everything - all of their plants.  They look to accumulate, fill their gardens with abundance… they want to save and stockpile for the future. They have no idea what will grow in their gardens so they try a little of everything, and there is nothing wrong with that.  When we get older, however, we become more discerning.  For example, you may accept the fact that you’re no good with most roses, but you love peonies, and they love you.  Why fight with the roses when they are clearly not your thing?  As a more seasoned gardener, you see that your space is not infinite and you realize that you need to cut out the bits and pieces that don’t really serve you.  You don’t mind the pruning; it has become easier.  You see beauty in the lovely, uncluttered space.  In January, we can look at our lives like the seasoned gardener looks at his garden.  You ask yourself, why should I hold onto things that make me sad?  I don’t need a clutter of abundance when there is such beauty in the empty space.  When I clear out my heart and mind and space, I make room for new things to grow.  Like a gardener who has pruned and weeded well, I’ve made space for new possibilities and it is indeed, beautiful.  Thank you, Winter, for this gift.