Even the Universe Thinks So

Mar 19, 2009 | You Can't Make This Stuff Up

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Some of the best-selling Japanese novels in recent years have been composed by young authors entirely on their cell phones. The small screens encourage narratives that are animated by terse rhythms. Flowery descriptions are rare and character development happens fast. I believe that in the coming weeks you will have a capacity akin to the cell-phone storytellers, Pisces. You’ll be able to compress complex material into simpler forms; you’ll have a knack for being very creative as you cut away frills and strip things down to their basics. — Via Rob Brezsney

See, even the Universe thinks I should be on Twitter. 

The Best of Etsy — 18 March 2009

Mar 18, 2009 | Best of Etsy

Wende’s refrigerator art is excited at the prospect of spring. 

 

Can you believe we’re less than a week from the official onset of spring? I couldn’t be more ready for the possibility of a nice long walk in the sun. You know, wearing a dress or sandals or well, not my huge wool coat! Although, out here in North Coast Oregon, spring may not arrive when the calendar suggests. So, all the dreaming we can muster is a necessity!  With that in mind, here is today’s The Best of Etsy list: a dreamy collection that should have you thinking “Spring!!” even if the weather won’t permit.

The Best of Etsy — 18 March 2009 — The Leave Your Coat at Home List

First up is this darling vintage dress. This is really a summer dress, but with the right sweater you can get a jump on things! Spring forward, right? 

The perfect accessory for that girly spring dress! It’s really delicate but not frumpy. Floral without being fru-fru. 

If you’re thinking “ruffles, meh” then this  modern twist on the ruffle is for you!

My options are white, black, or naked. That makes me happy. I see you smirking. 

Dresses not your thing? How about an amazing tunic you can wear a number of ways?? Love the color, too! 

Ok, don’t tell this guy, but I’m going to steal his scarf and wear it with my boyfriend sweater. 

And finally, 

Oh sure, you can take a walk in the sun at lunch. But what about your desk? It was once a tree and it misses the outdoors. Give it a friend!

 

Three days until spring, People. THREE. DAYS. We can do this. Yes we can. Tell me what you love, m’kay? 

Running Up That Hill

Mar 17, 2009 | This Life

Just a small update. As some of you know, we’ve been in a holding pattern here at Chez Wonder. Waiting. Waiting for doctor’s appointments, “procedures”, and ultimately a diagnosis. IZ has spent most of the past 5 weeks on bed rest. I’ve spent most of the past 5 weeks on Google getting a medical degree. You know, Google is your friend. Until it’s not.

It’s difficult to not jump to conclusions–especially when the medical professionals in your world are grim at best. They start dropping “C” words and you start panicking. Ok, maybe you don’t. But I do, and I began praying for a diagnosis of hemorrhoids.

I won’t keep you hanging. It wasn’t any of the “C” words and it’s a far better conclusion than hemorrhoids. IZ had two polyps removed, one severely ulcerated. The cellular structure of this beast wasn’t normal, but it wasn’t cancer yet either. We are deeply relieved to not only have a diagnosis, but to have a solution already in place.  He has a beautiful colon, and I’ll be sneaking benefiber into brownies from now on. 

When I wasn’t on Google becoming a medical expert, I was on Facebook having Country Western Lyric wars with friends or on Youtube convincing myself that every song the Kings of Leon ever wrote was really a secret message to me. “Sex on Fire,” yeah, that’s a song about hemorrhoids. 

For the distractions and the friends who gently inquired about our welfare, I am deeply grateful. Some of you say you are praying–and I believe you. And it’s a rare gift to support without demanding an explanation, a rare charge to be present and not make it about you. Some of you are gifted pastors of the soul—I’m so glad my soul knows yours!

As for Youtube, it’s funny how in certain moments our lives are scored. We compile soundtracks. Or I do. Music is temporal, set in time, associated with certain movements in our journey. And once associated, it’s hard to shake the immediate recall upon hearing it. I stood in a discount store when a Coldplay song came on over the store loudspeakers—I bit back tears and had to leave. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t shake the anxiety hearing that song produced. Because it took me back to when I was most happy and I couldn’t make that work with the fear I was experiencing now.

It’s always about us, right? What’s the point if all those lyrics don’t have meaning? So, we score our lives and fall deeply into this belief that the pounding rhythms blaring through our earphones will keep our hearts beating even as it destroys our hearing. It’s an escape. Which is why, though it is not true, I’m convinced Kate Bush’s Running Up that Hill really is appropriate. “If I only could make a deal with God, get him to swap our places.” How is that not about my fear and love? 

And it’s always about us, right? This is the danger. Because when a loved one falls ill, it is about us just as much as it isn’t. I can’t make a deal with God, though it doesn’t stop me from trying. And no matter how afraid I am of the outcome it’s still not me going through it. Not really. There is a divide, a space between us that is holy and I cannot cross. I cannot be in his body to feel it, to know his fear.  I can only place my hands on his sleeping body and say, “God, could it just be hemorrhoids?” (more…)

Mojo

Mar 13, 2009 | This Life

 

Sometimes, I actually use this.

 

My makeshift desk is littered with pale blue post-it notes. They’re piling up on the floor too. Weeks of lists I’ve been scrawling to myself, in some desperate attempt to restore order. It’s a brute force attempt. It’s not working. I’ve lost my Mojo.

I’m a huge fan of lists. Not because I’m really a list writer by nature, but because I’m not. And because I’m not, a list is what keeps me from standing in Safeway saying, “Now why am I here again?”  Dashed off reminders keep me focused, moving forward when the tide of fear and self-doubt threatens to shift the tenuous sand of faith beneath my feet. If you’re searching to be grounded, a reminder to do the laundry helps. It at least keeps you in fresh underwear. Assuming, of course, you remember to change them.

Better put that on a post-it too.

I’ve lost my Mojo. Misplaced it really. I’m sure I’ll find it on a blue post-it note along with a reminder to pick up my favorite wool sweater from the dry-cleaner and another gallon of milk while I’m at it. 

The Best of Etsy — 11 March 2009

Mar 11, 2009 | Best of Etsy, This Life

 

This gorgeous ring is by Andes Cruz.  I’m absolutely in love with the whole store. Go look! 

 

I feel like a 4 year old in the backseat of the car on a very long road trip, “Is it spring yet? Is it spring yet? Is it? How about now?”

No, we are not there yet. But we’re inching closer. Daylight Savings ambushed us this weekend, light is more abundant, and there is a bright orb in the sky  that seems vaguely familiar. It’s not spring yet, but we’re on our way.

I’ve been giving a great deal of thought to my pocket book as of late. The news has a way of making you think and rethink every purchase. I’m  hunting for bargains, weighing my options, clipping coupons! A penny saved is a penny earned, right? So, I thought I would do a Best of Etsy list with that in mind. A list of small treasures that would make thoughtful gifts or painless splurges–all without breaking the bank. A bit of affordable luxury. I’m convinced such measures will hasten the onset of spring. 

The Best of Etsy:  The Affordable Luxury List

I’m really loving this Soap maker. And she does masculine scents too!! So earthy and beautiful! 

I think accessories do an amazing job of making your wardrobe look fresh. Check out this new, one of kind, ring! 

And speaking of money. . . here’s a fashionable hands free way of stashing yours! 

As you well know, I”m on an art kick lately. And these tiny little painting are superb! 

Oh, Cute Baby Alert! Someone buy this already. It’s darling and vintage and perfect!

While I love all the hoops in this store, I‘m leaning toward these for spring. There is a subtle beauty here that you can wear with other jewelry without looking over-done.  

Nothing screams “SPRING” like a bunch of fresh Daffodils. And wouldn’t daffs look wonderful in this?

 

So, a wee bit of luxury! Just a reminder, it’s not too early to be thinking about Mother’s Day (if you’re so inclined to celebrate it!) and this list is an excellent start. If you’re looking for something special on etsy and don’t know where to start, let me know! I’m happy to point in you the right direction!

Now, let’s all collectively think “SPRING!” Those of us out here on the wintery coast of Oregon thank you in advance!

 

 

Your Life is Blessed

Mar 8, 2009 | Sunday Sermon

 

Not Breaking the Bank

 

In my kitchen, which sports “vintage” wallpaper from 1982, is a set of baby furniture. It’s basic kitchen white, painfully too small, shamefully grubby, and presently full of fresh veg from Costco. I keep waiting for it to die; although, 13 years later I still can’t afford for that to happen.  

I have a love-hate relationship with this refrigerator. We were renting while pregnant with Boy Wonder when our old and very used fridge keeled over and went to Whirlpool heaven. Avocado green and accented with rusting interiors I should have been happy to see it go. I certainly cursed it every time I walked past it. Too large for the space we were in, it was a bit of a squeeze for my pregnant belly to pass it and make the corner into the kitchen.  

It was one of several appliances in that old house long past its expiration date—but sadly, it belonged to us, so there was no appealing to the landlords for a replacement. Married to an entrepreneur who was “THIS” close to going public, I was working with a very tight household budget. The only money we had saved was the money we set aside for baby furniture. A crib, a dresser, and a changing table in the most beautiful cherry wood ever known to the gestating became a fruit and veg drawer, glass shelves, and door that has opened the wrong way for every apartment we’ve lived in since!  

Oh how I cried. Blame it on the hormones, but it’s a loss I still carry with me… in part, because the evidence of it insists on mocking me daily in my 1982 wallpapered kitchen.  I’d like to get rid of them both, the fridge and the wallpaper, but it’s looking like both are staying for the duration of this “recession”. I passive-aggressively don’t clean it, and it comes in handy when I’m in a mood to fight with my entrepreneur husband, “YOU and your start-up ways! My baby didn’t have nice baby furniture. . . he had a WHITE REFRIGERATOR.”

But for all my weeping, for all my moaning, that refrigerator is a reminder of just how abundant my life is. And yes, I can tell you that I’ve made so many of those trade-offs through the years. Money spent on necessity–money scrounged out of couches and car compartments to pay for groceries, because grocery money went to pay for emergency dental surgery. Moments from eviction, moments from  bankruptcy, moments from divorce.  There stands my too small for Costco sizes refrigerator, humming to itself, “Your life is blessed. Your life is blessed. Your life is blessed.” 

It is in the trial, it is the mourning, it is in the lack that we look up and see how blessed we truly are. My entrepreneur husband is my best friend, the love of my life, and the only person I’d willingly choose to risk it all on. He’s held my hand in every fight, in every storm, in every heartbreak. Lost jobs, lost babies, lost dreams—he’s been there. And it’s because of him I believe in true love. You can wish for wealth and hope for riches, but when you meet someone who cam still make you laugh in the misery. . . well, you’ve found it all.

My refrigerator doesn’t lie: my life is blessed. 

For the record, my child did just fine with the fridge. He raids it daily, and I suspect enjoys it far more than he ever would have the most beautiful  cherry wood known to the insatiable 12 year old. Now, if only I could get him to clean it.

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