Theine Thursday...?

I think it would be helpful (for myself) to have designations for certain days of the week...on this blog. More than the trite Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday used by so many others.

It's getting late, I'm getting tired, so to help come up with some ridiculous examples of a day-of-the-week designation I just googled "funny words that start with M" and apparently the only people who have taken enough interest in listing "funny" words by letter are 10th grade boys. My estimation is based on the fact that I wouldn't deem any of the "funny" words funny as much as I would deem them offensive. Sophomoric. Derogatory. Crass. So I'm (you're) left with whatever my hazy brain can come up with just before nodding off to sleep.

Here's my best:

Muffin Monday, where I write about delicious muffins I've either eaten or baked.

Tuesday's Toes, where I covertly photograph someone's toes in public and then post it on my blog.

Wednesday Woes, where I complain about anything I can think of.

Thursday Threads! Where I talk about thread that you sew with. Polyester thread. Cotton thread. Blue thread. Etc..

Forgotten Friday, where I forget to blog simply because it's Friday.

And so on. Perhaps there are some better ideas. Perhaps I'll think of some in the morning. Or maybe the middle of the day. I'm really more a middle-of-the-day person. The possiblities are nearly endless.

If you stumble upon this blog, feel free to flood me with your ideas. I'm not married to any of mine, yet. Except maybe the toes one.

"Where-ya-been-Wednesday?"--Here. Not blogging.

Hmmm...it's been awhile since my last post. I know this because it took me like 7 tries to log-in correctly to my blog. Furgotmy password. Luckily there aren't too many to choose from in my arsenal of passwords, so it was only a matter of time before I hit the right one.

Anyhoos, Ellis and I spent a lovely couple of hours with some of the coolest ladies we know (Amy, Amelie, and Finley) at the Cherry Creek Farmer's Market. Do you have any friends in your life that feed your soul just by having conversation with them while sitting on a curb eating paella? I do.

I'll leave you with a carefree photo of my leading lady. Enjoy your evening (or morning, or whatever time of day it is for you right now :)

It is still summer.

I have been down-and-out with the post-oral-surgery blues since last Friday, but I'm starting to feel more and more like myself. FINALLY. I don't do "recovery" (ie: sitting on the couch in a fog for days on end while trying to keep a watchful eye on my bored toddler) very well, so it's nice to have some motivation back. But my motivation seems to be heading in a different direction...

Despite my internal objections, I've started noticing hints of the desire for Fall returning to my psyche. I find myself longing for crisp air and stop myself immediately to relish the heat a little more. Then my mind starts wandering to thoughts of not shaving my legs very often because I'll be wearing jeans (my husband might scoff a little at this statement, since my leg-shaving is not too frequent as it is) and I stop myself immediately in order to appreciate every last minute of summer and the "upkeep" that goes along with it. I've started to crave chili and the sound of football on tv in the background (husband scoffing some more I'm sure...) and once again I stop and open the refrigerator for some fresh summer berries that I love SO much. I'm even starting to think about what cute costume to whip up for the girl for Halloween (she didn't get one for her first Halloween last year). So there it is, I have started to long for Fall---which is always over too soon, making way for long (too long) Winter.

So my motivation is aiming at Fall-centered things. Fall colors in my sewing. Fall tastes in cooking. Fall clothes. And on and on. Though I'm not embracing it just yet, I'm almost ready.

Time to celebrate. And take some pain killers.

After a good decade of putting it off, I finally got my wisdom teeth removed. There were three. Which I think is strange. I may write more about this experience once I feel a little more like myself and a little less like I had my jaw clamped onto the edge of a cliff hanging on for dear life for 12 hours.

The reason I'm posting is because despite my swollen face and neck, is because I'm so excited to announce I just made my TENTH sale on Etsy this afternoon!!! For some reason 10 feels like a milestone, what with it being double digits and all. Not only that, it was one of my favorite tables that I've had in the shop since I opened it in March. So before long that little table will make the move from Colorado to New York City!

Love her.

My serenity must resemble that of a monk

Yesterday Ellis and I were doing some shopping when a trend began to emerge. It started when Ellis pointed at a four foot tall statue of a monk holding a bird and said, "Mama." It continued when she pointed to a two foot tall statue of a gnome and again called it, "Mama." At the next store she pointed repeatedly to a headless mannequin and said, "Mama."

What is she trying to tell me?

Typically she only points at me when she says Mama. So she either learned to call me in order to get my attention and show me such treasures as monk and gnome statues, and anomalies like headless people...or she was being a wise guy.

I'm not proud of this, but...

I can be juvenile. Shocker.

I purposely took my birthday off my Facebook page about a month ago. I purposely did this as part of an experiment (and perhaps moreso because I was sure that some thief was going to steal my identity if they were privy to my birthday on Facebook---paranoid much?). My birthday is July 30th and I wanted to see how many people remembered to tell me happy birthday without having Facebook tell them so they can then act like happy birthday I totally remembered it was your birthday i've been anticipating it for the last two weeks and i actually got you a card but i couldn't send it because i lost my address book and i didn't have any stamps and i mean i did send it i'm surprised you didn't get it yet...blah...blah...blah...

An aside: once when I was like 13 I was at a wedding reception with my parents and we're all out on the dance floor and suddenly this cute boy starts dancing with me. I'm all, shoot, I must look goo--ood in this ankle-length navy blue dress with cap sleaves that are a little too big for my awkward boyish frame and that zit must not be as noticeable as I thought.

I discovered too late that my mom, with a couple of glasses of wine in her, decided it wasn't embarrasing at all for her to dance near said cute boy while singing, "Dance with Brooke, dance with Brooke..." Cute boy was pressured by tipsy mom to dance with awkward 13 year-old girl.

That took some of the flattery right out of my sail.

Back to my FB experiment ---it was derailed because said mother wished me a happy birthday on my wall at like 8 in the morning. So a whole bunch of people wished me a happy birthday and I have no way of knowing who knew without cheating off my mom. Foiled again.

SOOOO, my cynical experiment will have to wait until 2011. Then I'll see who my REAL friends are.

Home...and free solar systems

Gabe, upon making our first trip inside a certain *container* store in town yesterday: "I have no idea why some people from other countries come here and feel overwhelmed by America's abundance...So what if we have a giant chain of stores devoted entirely to selling stuff to hold all of our other stuff?" Then he and Ellis wandered off to judge some more while I just marveled at all of the previously unknown ways to organize my stuff.

I saw a guy on tv the other day who designs, builds, and lives in homes that are like 100 square feet. He had closet space for his spare wardrobe, bookshelves for his book collection, a bed/loft, seating for multiple people, a sparse kitchen with a tiny refrigerator, a water jug with a spout sitting over a sink drain, a toilet, shower, and a little front porch. Somehow, despite my American upbringing (and constant dissatisfaction with my wardrobe) his home was more appealing to me than a large home.

Gabe and I jokingly/knowingly exchange smirks when people come to our home and remark at how "cozy" it is, because we both know that's the socially acceptable term for small. I guess "cozy" is better than "snug" or "claustrophobic". Our home is cozy. And small. At least by most common standards here. We are three people (one of whom barely tops 20 lbs.) and an 8 lb. cat living in about 1000 square feet. Our bedroom serves as my studio/sewing room, Gabe's office and library, and of course our love nest. Gabe wants to stick some exercise equipment in there too, which I have always opposed. Ellis' nursery is also the guest room.

I remember coming home from building houses for some families in Juarez, Mexico years ago and sitting guilt-filled on my bed crying about how blessed I was to have my home. (I never claimed I wasn't a bit emotional and dramatic at times) How long did it take to return to the mindset of wanting more? A bigger house, a better kitchen, a car with fewer dents...Not long, I'm sure.

Anyway, I saw this guy in the ultimate "cozy" house and it was charming and respectable. How can you not respect someone who chooses to use less---resources, energy, space, self-importance---in a world that almost always focuses on more?

So, at this moment, I like our home. Our home has character and it's where Gabe and I first lived as a married couple, it's the first place Ellis lived (not counting the NICU for the first 6 weeks of her life...). Chances are we will move to another home in our lifetime, so while we're here I want to remember to appreciate what our home IS, and not worry about what it isn't.

On a slightly similar note, Gabe saw a sign near a new housing development offering "Free Solar Systems!" That. Is. Awesome. No one else is offering that. Maybe solar panels, but entire solar systems?!! Sellers are getting really desperate and generous in this housing market.

Good conversation and Thai food

Today Ellis and I had lunch with a dear friend. We talked (Ellis mostly stared at the nearby restaurant patrons, who at first thought it was cute but then I'm pretty sure felt slightly awkward about her unwavering interest in them)...as I was saying, we talked, among other things, about meaning in life, meaning in the what of what we do, and how much of it matters to God. We decided (as good friends are often able to do when immersed in some good conversation with a heaping plate of Thai food sitting in front of them) that the what isn't as important as the how. Meaning, the question of 'how does one bring glory to God --by selling art on Etsy?', for instance (or not selling, as is too often the case...) is less relevant than the question 'how do I bring glory doing whatever it is I'm doing?' Well I can start by being grateful for the gifts I've been given and the desire I've been given to create. I could also start by ceasing to curse under my breath (or sometimes over my breath) when something isn't working the way I want it to---that's right sewing machine, I'm talking to you. And on and on...we had a long lunchandEllisiswakingup!

I'm curious about other thoughts, no matter how loosely related, others may have on this subject. My little darling is waking up so I can't ruminate any longer---but I'd love to read any of your thoughts. How's that for a sudden end to what might have been a thoughtful blog post??

Breakfast

Ellis had a healthy breakfast an hour ago, now I'm realizing I should eat one, too. Maybe then Ill have the brain function to think of something interesting to write about...maybe.

summer

Anxiety

I recently read a book entitled 'Calm My Anxious Heart' by Linda Dillow. I read through it slowly at times and at other times I read and re-read sections rather quickly. I began to recognize how often I depend on my own freakish ability to WORRY about things---things that have happened, things that are happening, things that could happen, and things that would never happen in a million years---and it was eye-opening. It was one of those books that causes you to put your money where you mouth is in regards to faith you claim to have. The faith I claim to have. The faith I do have. Because if I really have faith and trust in a loving God I can't also have faith in my own anxiety. So often I think that my worrying over something is responsible--- is preparing me for anything, is gaining me control. Ahh, control. So which do I want more of: (the illusion of) control, or the guidance of a loving God? Crap. That's like asking me which do you want more of: luscious chocolate cake or a nutrient packed, well-rounded meal filled with whole grains and vegetables? Well...I want to live well, live longer, have energy and health...but chocolate is sort of my drug of choice.

Honestly, I did actually just have some chocolate cake a few minutes ago, but more importantly I am aware of choosing trust over (the illusion of) control moreso than I have been in years. And guess what? It's not painful, it feels very freeing.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. CAST ALL YOUR ANXIETY ON HIM BECAUSE HE CARES FOR YOU. 1 peter 5: 6-7

How many of you parents would prefer it if your children worried that you weren't going to take care of them? If they worried you weren't going to feed them, clothe them, allow them to enjoy life, that you were going to forget about them...How often do we worry about those types of things? How often do we not trust that our Father in heaven cares for us?

Why get dressed when pajamas will suffice?

Here's one of my super-comfy, kid-friendly, yet stylish pieces of wrist-wear for mamas who need to add a little sumpin-sumpin to their jeans and t-shirt uniform. (This is what I was referring to in my profile nutshell when I mentioned my inability to be concise....because, let's be honest, this is a bracelet. It's a sweet bracelet.) Check it out over at Etsy :)













If you are also a stay-at-home parent, I wonder, how many days do you not get out of your pajamas? I'm brand new to this world, and I'm afraid what with having an online shop and being with someone who wouldn't mind being naked all day (my 18 month-old) that my motivation to change into clothes is going to dwindle to nearly nothing.

**I just added a description of myself to my brand new Twitter account (this interweb is really something, huh?) and it took 7 tries to get my description concise enough. 7 times of being told I made an error for saying too much. Ay.

Well, well, well, look who has a new blog.

Hmmm...what will this little blog become? Probably just peeks in at what I'm doing on any given day. Be it cooking (gasp), baking (double gasp), sewing, sanding, painting, drawing, teaching Ellis something cool (like what a caterpillar says), thrifting, craft-showing, gardening...those are the more notable things in my life. I'll try to keep the photos of me watching tv, cutting my toenails, and cleaning up cat vomit to a minimum.