So perhaps the sheer time span between bucket list posts exposes my knack for slow learning on the listening and not speaking front, but I forge on to item #2. Oh fear not, I remain committed to work on #1 while I practice all the remaining lessons and adventures that await me. Let's face it, chances are I will take item #1 with me to the grave, but hopefully it will be less magnificent a need then it is in my life today.
Alas, Item #2 of the Bucket List. It's a biggie. I am going to own my own business again and create a living through the things I love the most - all things home and garden. I have the idea, the location, the dream...I even have ideas for decor in my mind's eye, but there remain a few details to work out. What's that you ask? Oh nothing really. Silly things like, someone else owns the property, zoning is all wrong and a minor little inconvenience of start up money. Psshh. It's nothing really. Doesn't deter me in the least.
I know that with determination, faith and hard work, it will come to pass. In the meantime I do what I can to manage our own lives, live within our means, learn lessons along the way and give my best to those around me. I'll have a business - mark my words. It just may take a few years.
Watch me grow!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Fake Cheese
I am a cheese lover. Cheddar, jack, chipotle, goat, swiss....hardly met a cheese I didn't like. It's become a sort of identity for me...and actually made my bucket list. Yes, I will eat cheese on a street side cafe somewhere in Europe with wine. It's a romantic ideal I recognize, but leave me and my bucket list alone! I have my Hollywood frame in my mind and I will experience some semblance of that reality in my life time.
Now, back to cheese....broiled on steak, melted on bread, tossed in salad, just by the chunk, yes I am known in many circuits as the mouse. In fact, in a certain unfortunate event, I had to fire a personal trainer who insisted that my entire dietary/body ratio proportions were off balance due to cheese!
A couple weeks ago I made a batch of homemade broccoli cheese soup and the recipe called for mostly shredded cheddar, fresh veggies and cream...and a portion of shredded processed cheese. Let me tell you, it's NOT found in the cheese aisle or anywhere near refrigeration, but near the chips. You see, processed cheese is "special". Albeit, the soup was amazing and I'll make it again, the non-perishable "cheese" with it's radioactive orangish-yellowish glow is a bit unnerving. And the way it mushes in your hand if one attempts to shred it is disgusting.
However, melted quickly into a homemade soup, one can forget it's unnatural personality long enough. But last night I made enchiladas and decided that rather than waste the remainder of nuclear-block-o'cheese-wannabe, I decided to use the fake cheese. I have never made enchiladas with fake cheese and can safely assert that I never will again.
My husband and grown children, raised with a certain level of politeness and poise at dinner ate in silence. Before I knew it I was alone, they had quietly slinked out of the room stealth like, hoping to go unnoticed. "The kids didn't like it," exclaims the husband as he notices a nearly perfectly formed enchilada in the trash. "That belongs to mom," shouts oldest from his bedroom computer. I'll have to talk to that kid!
To fake cheese - you've seen your last appearance here. You're not worthy and the way you stiffly held your defiant face in the trash proves you don't belong here. God protect the seagulls at the landfill.
Now, back to cheese....broiled on steak, melted on bread, tossed in salad, just by the chunk, yes I am known in many circuits as the mouse. In fact, in a certain unfortunate event, I had to fire a personal trainer who insisted that my entire dietary/body ratio proportions were off balance due to cheese!
A couple weeks ago I made a batch of homemade broccoli cheese soup and the recipe called for mostly shredded cheddar, fresh veggies and cream...and a portion of shredded processed cheese. Let me tell you, it's NOT found in the cheese aisle or anywhere near refrigeration, but near the chips. You see, processed cheese is "special". Albeit, the soup was amazing and I'll make it again, the non-perishable "cheese" with it's radioactive orangish-yellowish glow is a bit unnerving. And the way it mushes in your hand if one attempts to shred it is disgusting.
However, melted quickly into a homemade soup, one can forget it's unnatural personality long enough. But last night I made enchiladas and decided that rather than waste the remainder of nuclear-block-o'cheese-wannabe, I decided to use the fake cheese. I have never made enchiladas with fake cheese and can safely assert that I never will again.
My husband and grown children, raised with a certain level of politeness and poise at dinner ate in silence. Before I knew it I was alone, they had quietly slinked out of the room stealth like, hoping to go unnoticed. "The kids didn't like it," exclaims the husband as he notices a nearly perfectly formed enchilada in the trash. "That belongs to mom," shouts oldest from his bedroom computer. I'll have to talk to that kid!
To fake cheese - you've seen your last appearance here. You're not worthy and the way you stiffly held your defiant face in the trash proves you don't belong here. God protect the seagulls at the landfill.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Bucket List - Item #1
I have a "Bucket List" for my life. I've never really written it down, but it's there. Of course it includes items such as having a glass of wine and cheese on a street side table in Italy with my husband and the "typical" dreams that such lists elicit. But my list also explores things I want to become and be in this life.
So this post is dedicated to #1 on my Bucket List....to become a better listener. In my musings, I poke fun mostly at myself and my incessant need to be heard, but I examine the truth of my heart as I journey to pursue the things on my bucket list. I hope you enjoy and consider what you may want to become in this life.
---------------------------------
News flash...research finds that our ears work without the involvement of our mouths! It's true, I've tried it out a time or two....and I can confirm it DOES work.
Why is there such a compulsion to hear our own voice when we listen? Why does it seem so difficult to just be there, to hear, to support? Why must we find a story, tell our version or offer unsolicited sage advice?
Speaking for myself, I think I've lost the art of listening; of being present right here, right now and enjoying the here and now. Drinking from the relationship and time and space I am in at this very moment vs. rushing off to the next thing in my mind.
Regardless of where I am, I need to commit myself to be all there and listen. From that level of attention, I can hear you and I can be with you in whatever raw and real state you are in-good, bad or ugly. It’s only then that words should be shared. After I have heard, listened, seen and can respond with meaning, not just offer "place-holder text" (to borrow from word processing tools).
Yep, bucket list item #1 is under construction. I'm becoming a better listener every day. I'd love to hear your thoughts about listening.
Thanks for reading, enjoy this moment.
So this post is dedicated to #1 on my Bucket List....to become a better listener. In my musings, I poke fun mostly at myself and my incessant need to be heard, but I examine the truth of my heart as I journey to pursue the things on my bucket list. I hope you enjoy and consider what you may want to become in this life.
---------------------------------
News flash...research finds that our ears work without the involvement of our mouths! It's true, I've tried it out a time or two....and I can confirm it DOES work.
Why is there such a compulsion to hear our own voice when we listen? Why does it seem so difficult to just be there, to hear, to support? Why must we find a story, tell our version or offer unsolicited sage advice?
Speaking for myself, I think I've lost the art of listening; of being present right here, right now and enjoying the here and now. Drinking from the relationship and time and space I am in at this very moment vs. rushing off to the next thing in my mind.
Regardless of where I am, I need to commit myself to be all there and listen. From that level of attention, I can hear you and I can be with you in whatever raw and real state you are in-good, bad or ugly. It’s only then that words should be shared. After I have heard, listened, seen and can respond with meaning, not just offer "place-holder text" (to borrow from word processing tools).
Yep, bucket list item #1 is under construction. I'm becoming a better listener every day. I'd love to hear your thoughts about listening.
Thanks for reading, enjoy this moment.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Renaming a Blog
For my entire fan base (all one of you), I have renamed my blog to "Between Your Plans....Life Happens."
My blog is a space to describe the events, stories, lessons and moments of life, parenting and relationships that keep life exciting. We have a choice whether we stop and find the beauty, the humor, the goodness in things or not.
This blog is my celebration of life....with all it's quirky, funny and sometimes poignant lessons along the way. They definitely don't fit concisely within the frame of my plans, but it is a ride I don't want to miss.
Living it fully and enjoying as I can. Thanks for reading.
Sally - Alive and Well
My blog is a space to describe the events, stories, lessons and moments of life, parenting and relationships that keep life exciting. We have a choice whether we stop and find the beauty, the humor, the goodness in things or not.
This blog is my celebration of life....with all it's quirky, funny and sometimes poignant lessons along the way. They definitely don't fit concisely within the frame of my plans, but it is a ride I don't want to miss.
Living it fully and enjoying as I can. Thanks for reading.
Sally - Alive and Well
No Vacancy for Hollow Words
Rolling eyes and sagging posture are nothing new when we discuss our "words" with our not quite child, not yet adult offspring.
"It's not just what you say, it's how you say it," we implore. There are times I swear that unseen to the eyes of a nagging (ahem, educating) parent, a tiny "no vacancy" sign is posted at the cerebral gates of teens. Do they really have no attention for "tone of voice" or feelings in others? Perhaps.
Then I'm forced to take a look at our adult life; our adult habits that we establish as the example. A talk show host opins that, "teens can't communicate or use vocabulary anymore because of technology." Celebrity shows tear people apart for their outfit, their bad hair day, their cellulite. News programs, politics and television are full of negativity, gossip, criticism, anger, teasing and intolerance. What about our own conversations in the home? How many times have I had a “tone” to my voice that I intended in every way it was received? Where did our kids learn to use their words?
Albeit not perfect, I am proud of two relatively decent humans we have raised. They do care about others. They do communicate and use language and they do, despite their best defenses, occasionally absorb a little of our "wisdom" at their cerebral gates.
I can tell by the fact that they sit and talk with us at the dinner table. They have an opinion about the news or religion or business or politics. They are friends to others. They react when things are not fair or don't make sense. They respond when we are trying to pull one over on them and preach what we don't practice. They are prepared to be successful because they aren’t afraid to challenge the emptiness of our words at times.
Perhaps that little sign at their gates is more accurately posted as "no vacancy" for hollow words.
"It's not just what you say, it's how you say it," we implore. There are times I swear that unseen to the eyes of a nagging (ahem, educating) parent, a tiny "no vacancy" sign is posted at the cerebral gates of teens. Do they really have no attention for "tone of voice" or feelings in others? Perhaps.
Then I'm forced to take a look at our adult life; our adult habits that we establish as the example. A talk show host opins that, "teens can't communicate or use vocabulary anymore because of technology." Celebrity shows tear people apart for their outfit, their bad hair day, their cellulite. News programs, politics and television are full of negativity, gossip, criticism, anger, teasing and intolerance. What about our own conversations in the home? How many times have I had a “tone” to my voice that I intended in every way it was received? Where did our kids learn to use their words?
Albeit not perfect, I am proud of two relatively decent humans we have raised. They do care about others. They do communicate and use language and they do, despite their best defenses, occasionally absorb a little of our "wisdom" at their cerebral gates.
I can tell by the fact that they sit and talk with us at the dinner table. They have an opinion about the news or religion or business or politics. They are friends to others. They react when things are not fair or don't make sense. They respond when we are trying to pull one over on them and preach what we don't practice. They are prepared to be successful because they aren’t afraid to challenge the emptiness of our words at times.
Perhaps that little sign at their gates is more accurately posted as "no vacancy" for hollow words.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Touching today and yesterday
My teenage daughter and I have just returned from a mother-daughter shopping trip to the Farm Chicks show in Spokane, Washington. First thing in the door, your eyes light up with the wonder of fabrics, decor, furniture and fun that fill the rooms. In fact, we found ourselves having to slow down, breathe and take our time because the show is wonderful and overwhelming all at once! Farm Chicks is a "smorgasbord" of delight to a woman who loves unique, antique and boutique shopping.
As I wandered the rows of vendor booths, I dabbled and touched today and yesterday. I saw the textiles and items of the past being adored and reintroduced to new homes, new families and new stories. I couldn't help but reminisce of hours in my grandma's jewelry box, of projects hubby's grandma sewed with love for her family and of my own family and how much they mean to me. In a language I speak best, caring, baking, creating and giving is my language of love. Today I was surrounded by hundreds of people who do this for a living! It was deeply inspiring to me.
This evening my bed is adorned with fantastic new red and white toile and chenille pillows, darling antique accents have been added to the house and a shiny vintage chandelier hangs in the basement awaiting it's new home in my daughter's bedroom. A spoil any determined shopper would be proud of! But I have a contented peace in my heart tonight as well. I have wonderful new things, but most of all I have a gratefulness in my heart for my family, for my heritage, for our blessings and for the fresh rhubarb strawberry crisp on the counter reminding how much they mean to me.
As I wandered the rows of vendor booths, I dabbled and touched today and yesterday. I saw the textiles and items of the past being adored and reintroduced to new homes, new families and new stories. I couldn't help but reminisce of hours in my grandma's jewelry box, of projects hubby's grandma sewed with love for her family and of my own family and how much they mean to me. In a language I speak best, caring, baking, creating and giving is my language of love. Today I was surrounded by hundreds of people who do this for a living! It was deeply inspiring to me.
This evening my bed is adorned with fantastic new red and white toile and chenille pillows, darling antique accents have been added to the house and a shiny vintage chandelier hangs in the basement awaiting it's new home in my daughter's bedroom. A spoil any determined shopper would be proud of! But I have a contented peace in my heart tonight as well. I have wonderful new things, but most of all I have a gratefulness in my heart for my family, for my heritage, for our blessings and for the fresh rhubarb strawberry crisp on the counter reminding how much they mean to me.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Amazing love
We "love" a lot of things...chocolate, sunshine, outdoors, coffee, etc. But that's not what I'm talking about here.
No, the kind of love I am talking about has power. It has life. It has a transforming energy about it. Love is an intangible force that can brighten, strengthen, empower, cleanse, heal, motivate and sustain. Love is indeed amazing.
I've been both the recipient and the giver of that kind of love. My husband, my mother, my God, my dog...they adore me. And I feel that strength of love to my husband and children, my family, my God, my friends and on occasion, even to my dogs.
I realized something about love today. Something I've known forever cognitively, but just got clarity on in my current situation. I can't really give that kind of love if I don't feel love toward myself. Now I must admit that even typing those words sounds silly to me and a part of me winces as if some cosmic hand is going to come slap my mouth for speaking such selfish things. But that's missing the point all together.
Lately I've been a whole lot of negative about myself. My weight, my body, my attitudes, etc. And that has started to spill over into other things. I don't want to become a "negative Nellie" (sorry to the Nellies of the world - remember to love yourself!) and drag myself and others down.
So I realize that if I do not accept, forgive and love who I am uniquely in this world, then I will not be able to accept love lavished on me. As long I am unable to believe I deserve to be loved this way, I will repel those thoughts and feelings as if I am unworthy of their strength and joy.
Sounds rather silly and pretty obvious, but if I want to restore the joy and happiness to my life, I have to start with a sincere and humble belief that I am loved with an amazing love by so many in my life and that I deserve it. That's not self-centered, that's smart. That's opening myself to the healing, strength, cleansing, empowering and joy that love, amazing love can provide.
No, the kind of love I am talking about has power. It has life. It has a transforming energy about it. Love is an intangible force that can brighten, strengthen, empower, cleanse, heal, motivate and sustain. Love is indeed amazing.
I've been both the recipient and the giver of that kind of love. My husband, my mother, my God, my dog...they adore me. And I feel that strength of love to my husband and children, my family, my God, my friends and on occasion, even to my dogs.
I realized something about love today. Something I've known forever cognitively, but just got clarity on in my current situation. I can't really give that kind of love if I don't feel love toward myself. Now I must admit that even typing those words sounds silly to me and a part of me winces as if some cosmic hand is going to come slap my mouth for speaking such selfish things. But that's missing the point all together.
Lately I've been a whole lot of negative about myself. My weight, my body, my attitudes, etc. And that has started to spill over into other things. I don't want to become a "negative Nellie" (sorry to the Nellies of the world - remember to love yourself!) and drag myself and others down.
So I realize that if I do not accept, forgive and love who I am uniquely in this world, then I will not be able to accept love lavished on me. As long I am unable to believe I deserve to be loved this way, I will repel those thoughts and feelings as if I am unworthy of their strength and joy.
Sounds rather silly and pretty obvious, but if I want to restore the joy and happiness to my life, I have to start with a sincere and humble belief that I am loved with an amazing love by so many in my life and that I deserve it. That's not self-centered, that's smart. That's opening myself to the healing, strength, cleansing, empowering and joy that love, amazing love can provide.
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