True Confessions of an Introvert

Countenance Jewelry Featured in Etsy Treasury

2010-10-15T23:10:00.000-07:00

'Fading Away' by GoodMemoriesCafe

Rescued Vintage Tool Box... fadedprairie $36.00	Vintage 50s Cat Eye Glasses.... CollectableSpe... $70.00	VINTAGE HANDBAG MADE IN MACA... uncommonstuff $55.00	1930s Tan Mesh Oxfords Size ... lousybeatnik $35.00
Smoky Quartz Bracelet, Sterl... CountenanceJew... $55.00	Simple Primitive Rag Doll fr... theprimitiveho... $22.00	Faded Denim Flower in a Cup ... tekaandzoe $32.00	The crux brandmojoimage... $26.00
set of 6 frosted drinking gl... ModishVintage $30.00	INCREDIBLE 1950s Pale PINK C... VintageFrocksO... $225.00	Vintage Celluloid Collar Box GoodMemoriesCa... $45.00	Russia3 - Faded pink coloure... tomokotahara $32.00
Vintage Baby Pink Lace Satin... SkivvyLuLuVint... $48.00	DIGITAL Download SCAN Antiqu... fadedtatteredr... $3.99	VIntage Kodak Bantam 35mm Be... C3L35T3 $16.00	Fading Glory Fine Art Print ... wondrousstrang... $12.50

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Genetically Speaking

2010-10-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

My two girls: my daughter on the left, her daughter (my sweet Lily) on the right.

If It's Tuesday, It Must Be ...

2010-10-07T23:02:00.000-07:00

Lately each day has been such a gift.

Monday I have Lily with me all day. We've missed each other over the weekend and we play and cuddle and the day races by until all of a sudden it's over.

Tuesday Lily is over at Auntie's house so I'm left on my own to take care of doctor's appointments, hair appointments, shopping, errands, or my favorite, staying in my studio to paw through my gemstones and sterling silver goodies so I can get started making a new piece of jewelry to list in my online Etsy shop (CountenanceJewelry.etsy.com).

Wednesday Lily is back with me and we've got gymnastics for 45 minutes in the late morning. Even this short interlude breaks up our day enough so that the time we spend after we get home from this activity seems to fly by. If Lily naps for 2 hours after lunch, I get a big block of time to spend on myself, but lately her naps have gotten shorter which means more is required of me from her.

Thursday is another day of Lily at Auntie's house so I spend more time being my own boss to prioritize my time. Sometimes I feel so foot loose and directionless that I just sit on a stool for a while and stare off into space until an image forms in my mind of what my next move is going to be. Using this method to figure out how to manage my time reveals to me just how ineffective it is, but since I like sitting on a stool letting my mind wander, I still indulge myself sometimes.

Friday is usually another day with Lily, but this week I'm taking a 'vacation' day on Friday so I can go to the Gem Faire being held at the Scottish Rite Center in Sacramento. I'm taking my large travel-size purse that is full of compartments and has a wide strap that I can put around one shoulder to distribute the weight of all those gemstones I'm going to buy. I'll wear comfortable shoes, have at least one snack handy in my purse, my seller's permit tucked away just in case anyone wants to give me a discount, and my shopping list, which I'll probably ignore 90% of the time that I'm there.

I'm really excited to be going. I hope there will be a reasonable amount of good vendors there. The Sac Gem Faire is not one of the more popular venues for jewelry suppliers to attend, but can still be fun and time well worth spending.

I'm toying with the idea of going to the Tucson Gem Show next February. Since my father lives in Tucson I could probably snag a room at his house with my husband, then drive into town and get a taste of what a full-blown gem show is all about. I feel this will be a rite of passage and something I've dreamed of doing for the last 6 years.

Ok now... so how much money am I budgeting for tomorrow? I think I'll head on over to my stool to figure that one out.

Mea Culpa

2010-09-01T20:29:00.000-07:00

...and that's all I'm going to say about it.

Four Generations

2010-07-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

My mother was born in 1928.

She had a daughter (me) in 1954.

I had a daughter, my only child, in 1980.

She then had a daughter in 2008.

As the generations progress,
our hair is getting curlier,

our skin is getting darker,

our eyes are getting browner,

our smiles are getting wider,
and now we've got dimples too!

The Spaceship I Rode In On

2010-06-05T15:19:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those conversations with your significant other that causes you to wonder about your language skills? I mean, let's face it, there are times when a couple's verbal exchange resembles a political debate: double-talk, insinuations, answering questions with questions, things like that.I'm not sure what planets we're from, but it's definitely not the same one.

Recently, my husband and I had to share a very small bathroom in our room at an inn while away on vacation. For the most part we danced around each other pretty seamlessly while there. We were in no hurry one morning and I wanted the whole bathroom all to myself to get showered and ready for the day. Sometimes a girl just needs a little privacy.

So I asked my husband, "Are you finished in the bathroom?"

He responded, "I'm done in the shower."

I said, "So, does that mean you're done in the bathroom?"

He said, "I just told you. I'm finished in the shower."

I said, "Quit saying that. That doesn't answer my question."

He: "Yes it does."

Me: "No, it doesn't. You could be finished in the shower without being done in the bathroom."

He: "Well, you know what I mean."

Me: "No I don't. There is a difference you know."

He: "No there's not."

Me: "Yes. There is."

He: "Ok, I think you should let it go and move on now."

Me: "No, I want you to understand. This is part of why we don't always communicate with each other."

I don't usually try to make my point to this extent (or do I...?), but for some reason I felt that this particular situation was a perfect illustration of our failure to communicate at times and I wanted to drive that point home. I bravely soldiered on.

I said, "You could still need to shave or brush your teeth. I know you're finished in the shower. I'm trying to find out if you're 'done' done. I want the bathroom all to myself."

By now my husband is fully dressed, with car keys in hand ready to go get his morning cup of coffee. He leans over to give me a quick kiss and concedes, "Yes, I'm 'done' done."

Duh.

Score another one for marital bliss.

Ice Cream-Lovers Diet

2010-05-23T16:49:00.000-07:00

Although not nearly as serious as diabetes, hypoglycemia is an annoying problem to have. When you are hypoglycemic, as I am, your pancreas produce too much insulin so that it is difficult to keep enough sugar in your bloodstream. When there is too little sugar in your blood, besides feeling so hungry you could eat the wallpaper off the walls, you can get shaky, sweaty, unable to concentrate on even the simplest things, really crabby, a bad headache, and even pass out if blood sugar gets too low. I always carry a little Something in my purse because when I feel a blood sugar low coming on it can hit quickly and make my life miserable if I find myself without a snack.

I crave sugar, but eating sugar is one of the worst things you can do when you're hypoglycemic because it causes blood sugar to rise very quickly then plummet, making it necessary to eat again. When I have a blood sugar melt down, more sugar makes all of the bad symptoms go away quickly, but also sets me up for another crash. It becomes a vicious cycle and the calories add up fast.

My doctor recently told me that the key to controlling hypoglycemia is to eat as many or more grams of protein as carbohydrates during a meal or snack. Carbohydrates, whatever the source, raise blood sugar just like plain sugar does, but balancing that with protein slows the absorption of carbs so that your blood sugar levels stay on a more even keel.

He also told me that eating some fat with carbs helps slow the absorption of carbs which makes blood sugar spike less, and, for example, that eating a scoop of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream is better for my blood sugar than a scoop of sorbet. Sorbet is basically pure sugar, but Ben and Jerry's has some fat... okay, a lot of fat. I'm sure that my doctor was using the ice cream-sorbet comparison just to dramatize his point, but I took it as a diet tip. I thought, what if I ate a single serving of Ben and Jerry's during the course of an afternoon rather than several reduced fat, reduced calorie desserts. Could I control the amount and therefore the overall calorie count that way? I couldn't wait to put it to the test. I went out and bought four flavors of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I was anxious to get started on my new diet.

You Can Be Honest With Me

2010-04-07T10:14:00.000-07:00

Do these glasses make my butt look big?

I have been in a power struggle with my weight since I was 12, although I never really had any excess weight at all until I was 19, and even then we're talking maybe 5 or 6 pounds. I think I was misinformed as a child because I always thought I was fat. I was never skinny like some kids who have little stick legs and narrow waists you could wrap your fingers around. As one of my aunts once told me when I was very young, "You're not fat, you're healthy". At the time, I took it as an insult.

I remember going to a church potluck when I was 11 or 12 and making the agonizing decision not to have any dessert since I was convinced I needed to lose weight. Anybody who has gone to a church potluck knows that food is good at these things, especially the desserts. All the ladies (only ladies cooked back then) were in competition with each other and this was an occasion to really shine. So, at my tender young age I had decided before I went that I would not have dessert and begin my New Life as a Thin Person. As I remember it all these years later, that night the act of resisting the urge to indulge my sweet tooth was physically painful. I longed to have the wonderful taste of sugar, chocolate, whipped cream, ooey-gooey yummy stuff filling my mouth with happy flavors. When we got home, I remember my mother commenting on the fact that she noticed that I had skipped dessert. She said she was proud of me. Rats. I really didn't want to ever have to live through that experience again, and here what I'd done had made my mother proud. And she was not easily impressed.

Looking back on all of my years of dieting and I'm-not-dieting-I'm-just-eating-healthy, the potluck dessert fast was probably my first official act of dieting. Since then I have been on Weight Watchers several times (including way back in the late 60's when the plan called for canned bean sprouts to replace spaghetti noodles), Diet Center, Nutrisystems, some version of the no carb/high protein diet, Slim Fast, magic soup diet, diet pills (awful!), candy diet (special candies you'd eat right before a meal to fill you up... right....), and my latest endeavor, Jenny Craig. I lost weight on just about every diet I tried, and, just like most people's experience with dieting, I gained the lost weight back some time within a year of going back to eating "normally". I'm currently about 53 lbs lighter than when I was at my heaviest in my 40's. That's a lot of weight, I know, but losing it isn't the problem for me. Keeping the weight off without constantly yo-yo dieting is the issue.

So. Here I am in my post-Jenny Craig days, having lost 17 pounds (again) during the four months I was on the plan. Wow, what a struggle to lose those pounds now that I'm in my mid-50's. Based on that you'd think it would be easy for me to cherish those lost pounds with the passion of a weight-loss zealot, making it easy for me to stay away from all those sweets I crave, that I would feel good about turning my head (and mouth) away from that forbidden unneeded second/third/fourth afternoon snack. But that is not the case at all. When it comes to food, and sweets in particular, my craving for it and my ability to rationalize eating it has not diminished one iota. In fact, in the last few weeks since I declared victory on Jenny Craig I've spent more time and energy looking for new food to eat than ever before. My freezer is so full of reduced calorie, low fat desserts that I can hardly get the door closed. But, see, the thing is you're not supposed to eat three of these desserts in one day. You're only supposed to eat one and then stop. But some days I just can't stop, especially those days I'm just hanging out at home all day taking care of my granddaughter.

However, I will not gain that weight back. Well... this is what I'm telling myself. The big question mark hanging in my mental mid-air is, will I or won't I? If I talk about it and start watching Oprah more often maybe I can figure this out.

On Turning Fifty-Six

2010-03-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

I shouldn't be posting yet another picture of myself as a youngun' but truth be told, the best photos I have of myself are all from my childhood. I became very un-photogenic as an adult. Either that or I'm a lot uglier than I realize and I'm taking perfectly good pictures.

I turned 56 yesterday. Next year I will no longer be able to say that I'm in my mid-50's -- I will then be in my late 50's. How did I get so old? On the inside I feel like I have just recently started to "get it". I wonder if most people are at this stage of awareness earlier in life. I assume that is the case, but I am probably wrong.

The other day I saw my reflection in a mirror... a magnification mirror... in bright natural daylight. I was shocked. I'm getting these weird wrinkles on my face in places that don't crease when I smile or frown. What's up with that? I can understand wrinkles that are created when you move your facial muscles a certain way over and over, but the existence of these new wrinkles is a complete mystery to me. And don't even get me started on the problems with my neck.

Elasticity. You don't really think about it until you find it missing.

And how about age spots? What a strange phenomenon. At first, you might tell yourself that you're just sporting a nice new sprinkling of freckles, but come on, who are we kidding. And can somebody, anybody, tell me why women need extra nose hairs when they get older??? Is it a cosmic joke or something? Or did the Almighty think it would be helpful if women could relate with men on a new level?

Despite the fact that the degeneration of my body is a runaway train, I really don't mind getting older. I've always looked younger than my age, which I absolutely hated growing up. When you're 16 you don't want people thinking you're 12. That just isn't flattering. But when you're, say, 45, you don't mind it if people think you're 35. When I'm out with my granddaughter people are usually surprised to find out that I'm not her mother. They say, "You don't look old enough to be a grandmother." Well, if I had had my daughter at 20 (which I did not) and then my daughter had had her baby when she was 20 (which she did not), then I'd only be 40 when I became a grandmother, so what, I always wonder, is a grandmother supposed to look like? I know without a doubt that I don't look as young as 30. But still, I'm flattered, and I always say thank you for the compliment as I try to slowly back away from the person so they won't begin studying my face looking for signs of age, because I guarantee you they will find it.

No Skirt, No Shoes, No Problem

2010-03-11T10:31:00.000-08:00

That's me on the left, before I started wearing heels.

I am always caught a bit off guard when I go into someone's home and have to remove my shoes. I appreciate the rationale behind it - culture, cleanliness, keeping hardwood floors unscratched - but I need my shoes. My feet get cold.

One fine summer afternoon, many moons ago before I was married, I went to a dear friend's wedding with my young daughter as my date. Not being one gifted in the social graces and an introvert (not the same thing, mind you), I was nervous because most of the guests were people I'd never met. I find small talk difficult and exhausting, and I probably left the wedding knowing the same number of people as when I arrived. I prefer standing around mutely with my thumb hanging out of my ear.

The wedding was held at the home of my friend's brother, and he and his wife had just had their brand spanking new hardwood floors installed. I was all dressed up in a mid-calf length, silky, flowing skirt and electric blue silk blouse, with pantyhose and heels; a rare occasion indeed (the last time I wore a dress was when I got married 13 years ago). When I was told at the front door that I'd have to remove my shoes for the indoor ceremony in order to preserve the sheen on the floors, I panicked. On this warm summer day I wasn't going to get cold feet, but this was going to ruin the look of my ensemble. I needed those heels. If you're a woman, you know what I'm talking about. I'm only 5'4" and nobody has ever told me that my legs were my best feature.

So off go the shoes and, feeling awkward, I try to glide daintily into the living room in my stocking feet where people are mingling. Oh, how I hate to mingle! It requires too much of the dreaded small talk and I never know when or how to gracefully move from person to person. Anyway, I chit-chat with my daughter and a few of the people that I do know, the ceremony finally takes place, then it's off to the backyard to do some more mingling and to wait for the reception to begin. My daughter and I have just so many things to talk about before it's obvious that we'd both prefer to go home and watch Beverly Hills 90210. But wait, here comes The Bride, all flushed with excitement and glowing. I tell her how happy I am for her (and truly, I was), but she wants me to have as good a time as she is having and proceeds to boldly point out a handsome man sitting at a nearby table. She informs me that he is single and came without a date and, come on, let me introduce you to him. Since the hole I wanted to drop into didn't appear, I had no choice but to go with her. After introductions are made and the effervescent bride has disappeared, it's apparent that Handsome Single Man is no better at small talk than I am.

Somehow we disengage and I decide to go collect myself by finding the bathroom so I can powder my nose. As it turned out, the bathroom was in a part of the house without hardwood floors so my shoes stayed on my feet. As I waited outside the restroom for my turn, I was able to look out through the open door to the tables where everyone was finding their seats. Unaccompanied Single Man was facing my direction but I don't know if he saw me standing there. If he did, then he might have noticed that as I raised my leg just slightly, shifting my weight from foot to foot, I somehow managed to catch the heel of my shoe on the hem of my silky flowing skirt. I didn't realize what I'd done until my foot was back on the ground and my skirt pulled down with it, showing parts of my support system that are usually left to the imagination. The biggest problem at that point was the fact that my heel was securely embedded in my hem which meant I couldn't pull my skirt back up, although I tried with enthusiasm. I squatted down to meet my skirt halfway and somehow got my heel disentangled, stood up, got my skirt back where it belonged, quickly surveyed the people outside to see if anybody noticed (if anyone did, they discreetly ignored me), then stood there trying to act as if nothing had happened. My sweaty, bright red face and drooping torn hem may have indicated otherwise, but I wasn't talking - small or otherwise. I was way past feeling ridiculous; I was feeling like a female version of Steve Martin or Dick Van Dyke.

My recollection of the rest of that evening is hazy. I believe I found a place to sit and tried not to move a muscle. I know that my daughter and I stayed just long enough so that we could leave without being rude. It was still light outside when we got home. We may have even made it in time to watch Beverly Hills 90210. Apparently, Single Man Without a Date didn't ask my friend for my phone number. He probably had serious reservations about my choice of undergarments... more of a Victoria's Secret man than JC Penney. Well. It's best to find these things out right off the bat.

Ah, Amor, Amor! ...sigh...

2009-12-21T15:17:00.000-08:00

You know the feeling, or I'm sure you remember it: total infatuation. It's wonderful and wonderfully awful at the same time. You can't stand being apart from The One. You think about them all the time when you're not together. You look at pictures of them and it makes you feel both happy to gaze at their lovely face, and heartsick because they are not with you and all you have is a crummy photo. You wait impatiently for your next meeting. When you're alone, you sigh a lot and gaze off into space.

That describes me to a T ever since my granddaughter was born a little over a year ago. When I see Lily, words like snookums and punkin enter my vocabulary. I call her little one, baby doll, baby girl, sweetheart, snookie-wookums, punkin-roo, cutie pie, Lily Pilly -- they just roll right off my tongue. I'm not an overly demonstrative person and use very few endearments even with my husband who, although I love him dearly, is only once in a while called anything other than his name. In fact I've been accused of never giving anything away, but if Lily is in the room with me my whole world turns into a "precious moment" and the pet names and superlatives begin to fly out of my mouth. What is it about babies anyway that they can get under your skin to the point where you forget yourself and become a love-smitten fool speaking words dripping with honey? Ain't it great?

Lily with Lily's Mom, my daughter, Emily - another person who made my world precious.

St. Andrews, Scotland

2009-11-09T20:38:00.000-08:00

The Royal & Ancient Golf Clubhouse at St. Andrews

I'm slowly working my way through video taken during our recent trip to Scotland. I don't have much in the way of editing tools so I find myself stuck with the raw video. Ah well. I'm learning a lot about what I should and shouldn't do next time.

This little movie of St. Andrews was taken after a harrowing drive from Edinburgh in a rental car. Thankfully, my husband was driving because we wouldn't have made it alive if I had been behind the wheel. Even though I began to get used to seeing people drive on the left side of the road, there is something forever cemented in my brain that kept screaming, "LOOK OUT! You're going to die because you're on the wrong side of the road!" I wish I was just being dramatic, but I'm not. I was a complete wreck by the time we got back to our flat that evening. My husband and I had a little heart-to-heart about avoiding rental cars as much as possible for the rest of our vacation. I had to voice my concerns tactfully so as not to insult his driving techniques. Being the wonderful man that he is, he took it all in stride.

On this particular day we ended up driving a little more than necessary because we kept missing turns that were clearly marked on our map, but not on the streets. Scotland's street signage is a little skimpy. We ended up winding around and going back and forth over the same roads until we finally got it right, only to find that the road didn't lead us to the place we were aiming for (we were looking for a particular hotel bar so we could stop and have a drink). We settled on second choice, the Rusack's Hotel, which is where you can hear silverware tinkling in the background (mine, as we were the only people in the bar at the time). We ordered a "full tea" for the equivalent of about $16 per person that consisted of ham and grated cheddar cheese on buttered white bread, cucumber and tuna fish salad on wheat bread, potato chips, various desserts that provided me with my first taste of clotted cream (yum!), and of course, tea. If our priority hadn't been the cultural experience we might've been a little annoyed at the price. You can just imagine that they saw us Yanks coming from a mile away and somebody said, "Quick! Get the tourists' menu out!"

The weather was windy and cold (you can hear the wind howling around us in the outdoor shots) with a few sprinkles thrown in for added effect. We shopped a little while there and bought some authentic St. Andrew's Golf Course paraphernalia as well as some Scottish tartan woolen throws. It is almost as difficult to find "made in Scotland" items as it is to find things "made in USA".

The town of St. Andrews is, to put it mildly, quaint. It reminded us of Carmel, California, which is one of our favorite places, although the median age of the buildings in St. Andrews has many hundreds of years on the buildings in Carmel. The sense of history in Scotland is just awe-inspiring. It was my first exposure to such a collection of ancient buildings, although I understand that that is the norm in many countries. In California, we speak with pride about a building in Old Sacramento that was built in the 1850's. A contemporary build compared to what we saw in Scotland.

Downtown St. Andrews

Once again, I apologize for the amateur-level video, but I hope it gives you a taste of St. Andrews. Except for the car ride, I thoroughly enjoyed the day.

One Hour on a Bus in Edinburgh

2009-10-25T21:18:00.000-07:00

Edinburgh City Bus Tour

I'm not very good with my video camera yet, but I thought I'd post the video I made during a city bus tour my husband and I took while in Edinburgh last month. It was a good introduction to the city and a good way to see some sights while still recovering from jetlag and our nightmarish experience on the plane. Our tour guide was a very friendly woman named Gwen, who we found typified most of the Scottish people we met while there. I highly recommend vacationing there.

Pop a dramamine and enjoy!

Come Fly With Me, Come Fly, Come Fly Away....

2009-09-26T12:12:00.000-07:00

Recently, I boarded a plane with my husband (not the one above, obviously) to fly from San Francisco to Amsterdam, on our way to Edinburgh. We flew KLM, Royal Dutch Airlines. Do not let the name fool you. Royal Pain in the A-- Airlines would be more accurate. We flew Economy Class. Again, a misnomer. It's really Serf Class. But then, we were flying to Edinburgh so what could be more appropriate than to pretend we were serfs. The problem was that nobody checked first to find out if we were game. I, as it turned out, was not.

When it was time, we went to our gate and waited to be called for boarding. I was feeling more than a little apprehensive about the 10 hour flight and the 11 hour layover in Amsterdam before we would proceed to Edinburgh. I asked my husband if the plane we’d be on was bigger than the planes I was familiar with (I admit I am a novice when it comes to flying). The most I'd done recently was a two hour flight to Tucson in a 737. He assured me it would be much bigger, but warned that it would also be a lot more crowded. I had no idea. It went something like this:

Our row is called. We shuffle down the long, narrow, stuffy ramp to the plane. A flight attendant at the door checks our boarding passes. We go thru a narrow opening into the Serf Class section of the plane. Another attendant is flagging people to their appropriate side of the plane to find their seat. Down we go, passing row after row of full seats that are incredibly close to an adjacent wall with small openings to kitchens and lavatories. Our seat numbers are in row 42. Way down, over the wings. Oh good, I naively think. Sitting up here across from this wall would feel so claustrophobic. Glad I'm not up here.

Row 42. Doesn’t look too bad, but wait. Our seats are not on the window side of the plane. They are in the middle, where the wall used to be; four seats all in a row. As I study how close the seat backs are from the seats in front of them, I figure I must be hallucinating. I’m flabbergasted. Before climbing in I start thinking about how it’s going to feel to have my head in that tiny space. After my husband wrestles our bags into the upper compartments, I take the bags I want handy and start stuffing them under the seat in front of me by drop-kicking them into place. I sink into my chair, start doing some deep breathing exercises, and whisper, “Oh God...” the sincerest prayer I’ve ever prayed. Once seated, I found that I couldn’t lean over far enough to touch my fingers to my ankles, and even to get this far my face smashes into the seat in front of me. The flight is 10 hours long, and I am literally wedged into a space designed to comfortably hold my 20 lb granddaughter. To make the flight even more enjoyable both of the people in the seats in front of us elect to immediately, and permanently, push their seat backs out of the upright position so that, if I wanted to, I could count the hairs on their heads to pass the time.

Eventually, a couple of hours into the flight, dinner is served. I was optimistic that we'd at least have something to do to pass the time for a little while and take my mind off my space problem. Not to be. To get the full effect of what we experienced during our meal here’s what you can do at home. Strap yourself into a dining room chair with another chair within 6 inches of your nose. Then put your arms at your sides and have someone tie them down at your elbows. Now have your helper put a small, flimsy plastic tray full of food on your knees. The challenge here is to actually get food on a tiny picnic-size utensil and lift it all the way to your mouth without flipping the food over your shoulder. Trust me. This is fun for the whole family.

After a few hours I realized what a joke it was thinking I was going to whip out my knitting and while away the hours working on a cap. In fact, I had put enough yarn in my carry-on for two caps. I didn’t even crack a book, let alone knit. How could I? I couldn’t reach the floor to pull out my bag, and even if we did somehow manage that, I didn’t have any extra space in my lap for my knitting needles.

Finally, it was time to attempt sleep. We were jumping ahead 9 hours from San Francisco to Amsterdam, so suddenly it was 2:00 in the morning. Time to pop an Ambien and whisper another prayer for at least semi-consciousness for a few hours. I managed to wiggle my eye mask out of my purse, and then in a complete act of defiance, I too tilted my seat back out of the upright position and tucked my 4 inch pillow behind my head. Well, God is indeed good, and I think my husband and I both managed to doze for a few hours. Enough to make the time go by quicker, but not nearly enough to meet the minimum FDA requirement.

At long last we land in Amsterdam. How odd we humans are. The people all around us were noticeably quiet during the flight (probably couldn't inhale enough to produce any long sentences), but as soon as the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign was off and people began standing, there was a flurry of conversation. I overheard several people that were standing right next to each other in a row, who had just spent the past 10 hours sitting next to each other, discussing what they were going to do in Amsterdam, who they were going to see, who they worked for, etc., as if it was suddenly safe to open up because the conversation could only last for the few minutes they had before leaving the plane. I, however, uttered only a few necessary words to my husband, thinking that if I could just hold on another few minutes, I could have my panic attack in the comfort of the airport terminal.

Well, we made it to Edinburgh and have been enjoying our visit. Two nights after we got here we called KLM. We've upgraded our seats on the way home to Business Class. It only cost us $5000. Some things you just can't put a price on -- well, I guess you can. In this case, it's $5000. When I get on the plane, I will still whisper a little prayer for all the serfs, but fortunately for me I will not be one of them.

Prunes. It's What's for Dinner.

2009-07-16T21:25:00.000-07:00

Prune-Fest 2009

One of my granddaughter's favorite foods is prunes. All in all, a yummy feast was had by all, and believe it or not, none of it ended up on the floor. We are nothing if not tidy.

I don't think Lily's mom was even in the same league when it came to face painting with food. And all she had to work with was a crummy biscuit.

Biscuit-Fest 1980

Up for Adoption

2009-07-08T10:32:00.000-07:00

Twenty-nine years ago, when I was almost 26, I had a baby girl. I was single, making a minimum wage, living alone, and my baby's biological father (who I had been madly in love with) was nowhere to be found. I had the unrealistic hope that he would be so overcome by a sense of love and devotion once he saw the baby (which he never did, by the way) that he would sweep us off our feet and protect and provide for us forevermore. (What planet was I living on?) That was not to be, but I still wanted very much to be married for all the conventional reasons, and felt quite desperate about seeking a mate; there was no one on the horizon. That desperation probably seeped out making the whole "landing a man" thing less likely (men can smell desperation a mile away), even though I tried very hard to play it cool.

Back in 1980, the year of my daughter's birth, unwed mothers were still a bit risque. I hoped that being a single mother would add another layer to the veneer I was laying down that told the world I was tough, independent, liberated and didn't care what the establishment thought. The truth of the matter was that I was very tired all of the time, lonely a good part of the time, and constantly broke, although I can honestly say that I truly didn't care what the establishment thought.

I never doubted, however, my ability to be both mother and father. I always felt that my love for my daughter was so great that she couldn't possibly feel a void in her life that should have been filled by a father. And I think to some extent this was true.

After many years of dating - finding a few men along the way that I thought I loved but didn't love me, finding men who thought they loved me but I didn't love them, and finding men who fit neither category - I found my husband with whom I first had an off-again on-again relationship that went on for more than a decade before he finally decided he was ready. During our long courtship (I can't think of a word that actually describes what we put each other through during those years) my husband had watched my daughter grow up and had played the role of 'dad' in her life, even more so than most 'real' fathers I have known. By the time we married, my daughter was 17 and given her delicate emotional state (what can I say -- she was 17) we didn't entertain the idea of my husband adopting her, although we had discussed it previously and I knew my husband loved the idea, even though he already had five grown children.

A few years later, my daughter got married and a few years after that, got pregnant. At the same time, we were finally putting together our Last Will and Testament, and for some reason, once again talking about my husband legally adopting my daughter. She was already 28, married with a baby on the way, but somehow it just seemed like such a beautiful idea. For many years my husband had felt like her father, and my daughter saw him as a dad, but wouldn't it be sweet and wonderful to make it so in the eyes of the law as well. To our joy, my daughter was enthusiastic about the idea, as were all five of my husband's children.

Yesterday, with our 7 month old granddaughter in tow, we went to court. The judge barely said two words to us as he pored over the documents we had filed, making sure everything was in order. He then looked up at us, the only people in the courtroom, and said, "Well... that's it." The four of us (my husband, my daughter, her husband, and myself) practically said in unison, "That's it?", and we were done.

As we walked to the elevator to go home, I fought back tears. I was amazed at the depth of my feeling about what had just transpired. I thought to myself, I'm a parent with someone now. My daughter has a mother and a father. She's legitimate. Why these thoughts crossed my mind I don't know since I never felt she was illegitimate just because her biological father chose to abandon us. I never felt we were less of a family because it was just the two of us. But it was almost as if the void being filled yesterday was in my psyche as much, if not more, than in my daughter's. I felt as if a gap in our family circle was finally closed. I felt more complete somehow.

On the way out last night, I thought my son-in-law summed it up beautifully in his parting words to my husband. He said, "Thanks for adopting my wife."

Thank you, sweet husband, for adopting my child.

Grandma's Prayer

2009-05-24T11:41:00.001-07:00

I knew I was happy
(I was certainly content)
Then along came Lily
And up it all went
The ideas I had
About how I should spend
All of my days
Laid end upon end

God please give me strength
To hoist and to schleppe
This sweet baby girl
Who is gaining in length

Gimme Chocolate Everyday

2009-05-07T17:44:00.000-07:00

I just joined a free online weight loss site (sparkpeople.com) instead of joining one of the ubiquitous diet centers. I have promised myself for years that I would never go on another 'quick fix' diet again. I know that the fix is indeed quick, but so is the time it takes for the weight to come back on. Weight Watchers was a winner for me for a number of years, but I'm feeling too lazy to join something that requires that level of attention to detail (hm, I think I may be unearthing some reasons for my recent weight gain).

So, back to the quick fix solution. Those commercials they air... those almost got to me. My daughter and I would speak in hushed admiring voices, "Did you see the Valerie Bertinelli swimsuit commercial?!?" That's what hooked me almost to the point of going for it.

Then I started thinking about the prepackaged food. How much I'd have to pay for the prepackaged food. How hungry I would get and then still end up scarfing my own food. How my blood sugar levels would probably drop through the floor. How my head would hurt because I was hungry and eating all that prepackaged food. Let's face it - the prepackaged food was my undoing.

So now I'm trying to keep my online food diary with sparkpeople, which I find pretty easy. If you find the food in their list it retrieves all of the pertinent information for you, and if it doesn't exist you can easily add it. It does a lot of other things too, like provide pie charts showing which categories of food you ate and why those were either good or bad choices. I love pie! I digress....

Today while I was lying to my laptop about what I'd just eaten I looked up and saw my little Lily grinning up at me and I thought, I can't wait until she's old enough to bake chocolate chip cookies with me!

We Love Until It Hurts, But...

2009-04-21T20:15:00.000-07:00

Today I didn't say the right things
I didn't give enough hugs
I didn't listen to all of their imaginary stories.
Today my prayers were too short and
my lectures too long.
My smiles, I'm sure, didn't hide my fatigue.
Today I didn't heal any wounds;
in fact, I'm sure I caused some.
Their tears fell and I felt too lifeless
to wipe them away.
Today I felt completely defeated and totally inadequate
for this position called "mommy".
But as I kneel in prayer to confess my failures,
I am reminded...
I am not their hope.
I am not their total joy.
I am not their salvation.
He is!
And they are his children even more
than they are mine.
I am reminded...
he always listens,
always guides,
always touches,
and always loves perfectly.
I can rest now, Lord, remembering
that I am not alone.

My daughter was almost grown when I came across this poem (written by Wendy Brewer). How I wish I had had it to read while she was growing up because I so often felt those same feelings of inadequacy and failure described so well in the poem. I worried about the effects my failures would have on my daughter. I knew that some of my shortcomings would leave permanent scars; the question was how deep would they go.

I want to pass this on with the hope that the poem's words of encouragement will help another struggling, tired parent who, each day, tries so hard to be everything to everyone.

And Emily, if you're reading this, remember these words whenever you feel motherhood overwhelming you. And you should know that I have always felt that you are a gift, more than I deserve.

Thank You, God, For Saving My Life

2009-04-10T08:45:00.000-07:00

(C, this poem is especially for you)

A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a prisoner to be
Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

Naught have I else to do;
I sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please,
Doth listen to my song:
He caught and bound my wandering wing,
But still He bends to hear me sing.

My cage confines me round;
Abroad I cannot fly;
But though my wing is closely bound,
My heart's at liberty;
My prison walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom of the soul.

Oh! it is good to soar
These bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose providence I love;
And in Thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom, of the mind.

I found this poem in the book "A Step Further" by Joni Eareckson-Tada (check out Joni's website, she has an amazing story!) This poem was written by a French noblewoman named Madame Guyon who was arrested in 1688 and falsely accused of heresy, sorcery, and adultery by jealous church officials. She spent ten long, lonely years in prison after being convicted, and wrote the above verse during her confinement, which, Joni writes, "...is an eloquent expression of the strength God will give to the suffering heart that waits on Him."

I read this during a particularly difficult time of my life when I was suffering both physically and mentally. I was in so much anguish, day after day, month after month, that each day I woke up I wished it could be my last. I wasn't suicidal, I just wanted the pain to be over, longing for God to take me. When I read, and then re-read (many times) this poem I sensed my whole perspective on pain and suffering changing. "Well pleased a prisoner to be because, my God, it pleases thee." That is a point of view that never would have occurred to me on my own. My mind just doesn't work like that, but I was able to see the beauty of it, and I wanted that conviction for myself. As I claimed this poem as my own prayer, my life slowly began to change. I know this isn't always the end of a person's story, but I was eventually able to find the medical help that I needed to drastically reduce the amount of pain I was having to deal with.

I'm much healthier now and, when I think back on those difficult years I realize I wouldn't trade them for the world. I never thought I'd be able to say that the suffering was a "gift", but it was. Would I still be able to say that if my pain level had remained high these past couple of years, had I not been able to find medication to help me? I'll never know. I'd like to think that I would, but I'm sure the journey, if graphed, would be a line going up and down continually.

I know my suffering in this world is not over. Somewhere along the way I will experience more - it's part of the human condition, and I know I won't like it or necessarily be able to embrace it as I learned to do before. In fact, I'll probably have to start all over again in the process, but I'll have the memory, the experience of my previous victory over discouragement to draw on.

At the beginning of "It's a Wonderful Life" with Jimmy Stewart, the angels are talking and Clarence, the guardian angel, asks if George, our hero, is sick, and the other angel responds saying, "No, it's worse. He's discouraged." May God help all of you with your own personal discouragements so that you can also say, "My prison walls cannot control the flight, the freedom of the soul."

Have a truly happy Easter!

What Are You Looking At?

2009-03-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

"A year ago I was barely more than a cell.
What's your excuse?!?"

(Sometimes Lily has a bit of an attitude.)

Featured Etsy Shop: Rose Creek Cottage

2009-03-20T21:12:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite shops on Etsy is Rose Creek Cottage (rosecreekcottage.etsy.com). Just the name of the shop makes me think of a cozy sitting room with a fire burning in the fireplace on a cold day, a good book, and a cup of tea. Or if it's summer, I see myself strolling through what else but a rose garden that surrounds a pretty white cottage.

The shop's owner, Carol, also writes an outstanding blog, sharing the ups and downs in her life and providing regular awesome inspiration to all of her faithful readers, of which she has many. As one of her "followers" I enjoy checking in regularly to read her latest post (http://rosecreekcottage-carol.blogspot.com/). One of the most poignant things she shares is her journey with her mother who has Alzheimer's. It's both heartbreaking and uplifting as it's obvious that Carol's approach to life is to never let go of her faith and never be afraid to share what's on her heart.

Back to her wonderful Etsy shop....

I've purchased a number of her Scrabble tile pendant necklaces for my granddaughter and several of my nieces. On seeing the necklaces at Christmas, my sister-in-law wanted one for herself. One of the great things about Carol's jewelry is that it appeals to all age groups.

I especially love the rhinestones that embellish so many of her pendants, adding such a sweet touch of bling. The packaging is fun, too. Each necklace in the 'Truffles' collection (like the ones pictured above and below) is nestled in a truffle cup and tucked into its own little tin.

I also love the 'Definition' pendants. Each one comes with a charm that complements what is written on the tile.

Carol says, "You'll see that I love incorporating words and stories into most of my creations. I think you'll be pleased with the stories each one conjures up!"

Obviously a lot of people have been pleased since, as of this writing, Carol has sold 949 items on Etsy alone. She's also sold on Ebay and participates in craft shows and festivals.

All the best to you, Carol! You and your shop are part of what makes Etsy such a great community to be a part of.

Happy Birth Month!

2009-03-18T10:06:00.000-07:00

I love the idea of birthstones. Whenever I make a piece of jewelry using a birthstone, I always make sure to include the information about which month it is for in my description. I wonder who came up with the idea (a jeweler, probably) and how long it took to catch on with the general population. I also find it interesting that the list of stones has changed for some of the months over the years (a list can be found at the bottom of my Etsy profile page if you want to take a peek http://www.etsy.com/profile.php?user_id=6822809). For example, the traditional birthstone for November is citrine; the modern is topaz. Who got to change that? Probably a jeweler who ran out of citrine.

When I was a teenager, astrological signs were a big deal. My best friend and I shared both a birth month and sign. We were very philosophical about the whole thing, spending time comparing our personalities and making sure we fit the description of our shared sign. We were polar opposites in many ways, but we always dug deep to find all the ways in which we were alike. I mean, we had to be, right? We shared a sign!

We humans love to find similarities with each other, and I guess if I met you and found out that you were also born in March, right away there would be that little bit of connection. And I'd have no problem knowing your birthstone: aquamarine, just like mine. I'd also wish you a Happy Birth Month!

All We Are Saying....

2009-03-13T14:52:00.000-07:00

Never one to be overtly political,
Lily Joy surreptitiously flashes the peace sign.

Laying Up Treasures

2009-03-11T10:13:00.000-07:00

On Etsy, if you time it just right, you can create what's called a Treasury, a selection of other people's work that you put together in an artistic way. I really paid attention last night when I knew I might get the opportunity to create one and was so excited when I was successful. This is the first Treasury that I've created, and it was so much fun I'm sure I'll try again sometime.

With Easter coming up next month I felt the crosses were even more meaningful, and I was thrilled with all the artistic interpretations of this beautiful symbol of faith. My Treasury was in place until March 13th. Thanks to everyone who visited.

Unexpected Landings

2009-03-09T20:17:00.000-07:00

This seems so improbable and yet it happens time and time again every year when our magnolia tree loses its blooms. I imagine the exactness of speed and angle with which a petal must fall onto another plant in order for it to be impaled so perfectly. This petal has been given a second chance to survive for a short while longer - it won't be trampled or swept up with the other petals on the ground - all because it was snagged unexpectedly as it floated down to what would've been its natural destination.

Please excuse the easy metaphor -- sometimes I can't help myself.

Featured Etsy Shop: Sweet 'n Sassy Baby Boutique

2009-03-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to feature someone on my blog for a long time and decided that, due to my new status as Grandma, a baby store would be perfect. I find myself searching Etsy for anything baby-related, day-dreaming about all the good stuff I'd buy if I was a new mom. When my daughter was a baby I was always broke so buying just the basics was all I could afford, but also there just wasn't the great selection of baby goods available that there is today.

Sweet 'n Sassy Baby Boutique (Sweetnsassybaby.etsy.com) has some adorable accessories for baby and mom, and I might add, Grandma. Jennifer at Sweet 'n Sassy, says:

"As a stay at home mom, I did not like the usual baby accessories that you find in stores, so my mom and I decided to make our own. We got so many compliments on them that we thought we'd go into business! We specialize in funky, fun and fashionable burp cloth sets, wipe cases, blankets, and more. All Sweet 'n Sassy Baby items are handmade with the highest quality standards. We would not sell you something we wouldn't use ourselves."

This owl motif makes such a cute baby wipes case.
I love the trim around the edges. Gives it a nice finish and shows the attention to detail you will find in the products at Sweet 'n Sassy.

I particulary like this item because you can use it as a diaper clutch (it's big enough to include a packet of wipes), or use it for yourself as a clutch purse. Sold in two sizes.

This baby blanket is made with Robert Kaufman fabric and lined with soft white chenile. Looks so cozy!

Lots of great gift ideas in Sweet 'n Sassy's Etsy shop, for someone else or for yourself. Be sure to check them out!

Recognize the Joy

2009-02-28T21:51:00.000-08:00

You never know what or who may show up on your doorstep...or windowsill. When I looked out my kitchen window one day and saw this little guy peeking in (actually he was about three inches long) I felt as if I'd just been given a gift.

Here's to living life always aware of the little surprises that make us smile.

Promises

2009-02-23T20:22:00.000-08:00

I turn on the news and listen. I try to hear between the spoken lines that people still do have hope. I hear nothing but voices tinged with fear, frustration, anger, righteous indignation. I understand.

I turn on the news and watch. I try to see in people's eyes that they still trust. I see nothing but faces full of worry, sorrow, exasperation, sometimes even hatred. I've seen some of the same looks on my own face recently.

I turn off the news and look out my window. I see the beauty of our 50-year old magnolia tree, blooming its heart out, just like it does every year. This tree is full of hope.

I see daffodils that have come up from ground that hasn't seen a decent season's rain in many years. Their flowers are the softest pale yellow and the brightest golden orange. They are blooming almost as if in defiance of the drought we've been through.

It's been raining for days now, glorious, steady and pounding. This doesn't mean the drought is over. But it means we have rain today... now.... I can't help but feel more hopeful watching the rain. More peaceful. I feel that God is speaking to me through one of my favorite channels: nature.

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these."

Matt. 6:26-30

How Do I Love Thee?

2009-02-21T16:46:00.000-08:00

Let me count the ways.

Some of Us Got It, Some of Us Got More of It!

2009-01-28T16:51:00.000-08:00

You know how it is. Some mornings you get up and you just know you've got it going on. It's a good hair day, you feel pretty in the outfit you've chosen, your skin has cleared up, those last few pounds are finally gone...yeah, one of those days.

My sweet cupcake, Lily Joy, at 2 months old. She's looking too 'something' for her shirt!

New Etsy Shop Open

2009-01-27T17:03:00.000-08:00

Help me choose a banner for my new Etsy shop.

Banner 1

Banner 2

She's Heeeerrrrre....

2008-11-25T12:09:00.000-08:00

My little granddaughter, just a few minutes old: Lily Joy.
From my own joy, comes more!

Showering Baby

2008-11-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

I have been so busy lately that I haven't posted on my blog for a while. A baby shower for my daughter, that I helped organize, was held about a week ago and was so much fun. We had a great turnout with 40 women and all of their gifts packed in together quite cozily. Sacramento hasn't had rain in ages, but we got a downpour the day of the party. Fortunately, it didn't dampen anyone's spirit or desire to come help celebrate the occasion.

I was able to get the cake (Boston cream pie!) decorated with the same design as the invitations we sent out. I was so pleased with the results. Thank you Freeport Bakery! And tasty? Oh yeah!

My sister-in-law was in charge of the decorating, and she did such a beautiful job. It was simple and cheerful and felt like Spring instead of a rainy day. And of course there were silly games, courtesy of my daughter's sister-in-law. It was a wonderful family collaboration.

My one regret? I don't think anyone took a picture of my daughter and me together ... sigh .... Hating to have my picture taken, I don't usually put myself out there for photo ops so no big surprise. But after the fact I'm sorry that I didn't ask someone to snap our photo. So what if my eyes are usually closed and my chin looks like it invited a second one? Maybe someone can cut and paste a couple of pictures together to put us next to each other - for posterity.

Uncomplicated Is Beautiful!

2008-09-26T21:01:00.000-07:00

I really love spending time putting together clusters of gemstones to make jewelry. The process of choosing gradations of color for a "fade" is just pure enjoyment to me. Spending an hour or two attaching all the little stones to a chain to cluster them just so is nothing less than happiness itself.

But there are times when a gemstone is so beautiful it just begs to hang around by itself with minimal embellishment. That's what I let a batch of Botswana agate do the other day. I spent an afternoon culling through them and pulling out matching stones to make earrings. I then put them together with some sterling silver components and attached ear wires. The earrings are very simple. The stones speak for themselves.

My First Front Page.... Hopefully Not My Last!

2008-09-23T14:59:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I missed it, but about a week ago a piece of jewelry I have for sale on Etsy (middle picture, top row) was featured in a Treasury created by another Etsy jewelry designer, JennyBunny, and landed on the front page of Etsy. Fortunately, another user (monaraebeads.etsy.com) was kind enough to send me a congratulatory message. Otherwise, I'd never have known. Etsy is a wonderful community of very giving, thoughtful artists!

Getting on Etsy's front page is a big deal in Etsyland! To be in someone's Treasury is a real compliment. It means the curator somehow came across an item in your shop and liked the photo enough to use it when they had a chance to incorporate it into their Treasury. I've never attempted to create a Treasury myself. In the first place, they are very hard to come by as only a limited number can be created and posted at any given time, and it looks like it would take time, patience and of course talent, to make a good one. To see what I'm talking about, go to http://www.etsy.com/treasury.php and check it out for yourself. To see the current front page Treasury, go to Etsy.com.

Treasuries are picked by Etsy staffers to appear on their front page for some limited length of time. Unfortunately, not all of them make it. When it does, it gives all of the sellers in the Treasury free advertising and exposure, but most importantly of course, it provides that oh-so-coveted 15 seconds of, well, not 'fame' exactly, but a sense of affirmation that what you're creating is appreciated by other artists. Yes, that is a very big deal!

Many thanks to JennyBunny and Mona Rae Beads! Oh, and to Etsy, too!

Part VI: Fritzy the Political Wonk

2008-09-18T09:13:00.000-07:00

You could've knocked me over with a feather when I found Fritzy sporting the American flag like an Olympic athlete and carrying around campaign signs. She had signs that said "OBAMA - PALIN" and "McCAIN - BIDEN".

I said, "Who made your signs?"

Fritzy said, "I did. Aren't they great?!" (I thought I recognized the handwriting.)

I said, "Fritzy, you've got those names backwards." She gave me that 'you think you're so smart' look.

A little later I saw her again, and this time her signs said, "PALIN - BIDEN", and "OBAMA - McCAIN". Good grief.

I said, "Don't you know who's running?"

She said, "Of course I do! I watch CLN just like everyone else!"

I said, "Uh, Fritzy, it's CNN, not CLN."

She said, "Whatever. It's the station with Harry King on it."

I said, "You mean -- oh never mind.... So, what do you like about the candidates?"

She said, thoughtfully, "Well, Obama and Palin are such snappy dressers - and Sarah's glasses! They're to die for! And McCain and Biden are such distinguished looking men, you know, gray hair and suits."

"No," I said, "I mean, what do you like about their politics? You know, their policies, how they plan to fix the country's problems?"

Fritzy looked worried now. "Oh wow. The country has problems? I didn't know...."

I said, "Well, anyway, who do you think you'll campaign for? You have to choose just one."

She said, "I don't know yet. I guess whoever pays the most."

Huh?

"You know. I'll go door-to-door, make phone calls. What do they pay for that job? How many paid vacation days each year? I gotta maintain my tan."

I said, "Fritzy, it doesn't work that way. People volunteer, do it for free, on their own time."

Now I'd really burst her bubble. She slammed her signs down, mouth in a tight line, and grabbed the remote control. Last I heard as I was leaving the room, MTV was blaring on the tube. I'm guessing Fritzy's interest in politics has ended.

Does anyone need an extra "Palin - Biden" sign?

Part V: Fritzy's Maternal Instincts Kick In (Briefly)

2008-09-04T14:22:00.000-07:00

This morning I went looking for Fritzy because I had some necklaces I needed her to model. When I found her, I stood there with my mouth hanging open. When nothing came out, Fritzy said, "What?" I said, "Is that a towel?" She said defiantly, "I'm going to have a baby." I said, "Fritzy. Come on. This is not possible." She just glared at me and said, "I knew you wouldn't understand." (Sometimes talking to Fritzy is like talking to a mannequin.)

We've got two expectant mothers in our family right now. I guess Fritzy was feeling left out. She's such a chameleon! But I decided to play along.

I asked, "So... when are you due?"

She said, "Oh, next year sometime...."

"Are you going to keep working?"

"Well, yeah! I could never give up my career!" (It's obvious to everyone that Fritzy is going places.)

"What are your plans for daycare?"

"Well -- I thought maybe you would...."

I said, "Sure." (I mean, how much trouble could this baby be, really?) "So, um, will you do the whole natural childbirth thing or... I mean..." [good grief]

"Look," she said, "this is getting kind of personal."

"Sorry.... So. Do you have any names picked out yet?"

She said, "If it's a boy, I was thinking of Woody or Spike."

"Well. Cute. But what if it's a girl?"

"For a girl I thought maybe Fritzy Too. You know, after me. Get it?"

I said, "Yeah, Fritzy, I get it."

"You know," I said, "it might take a while to get your figure back afterward. You'll have to do lots of sit-ups and crunches. Maybe take up jogging. Some people gain a lot of weight while they're pregnant. Your appetite could really get out of control what with eating for two and all."

Fritzy's face fell. I don't think she'd really thought this thing through. She got real quiet and said she was going to go for a drive. She'd model the necklaces later.

This evening I noticed a couple extra towels in my laundry basket.

Heartache

2008-08-31T21:21:00.000-07:00

As I was getting dressed the other morning a design for a pair of earrings floated into my conscious brain, fully formed. When I was finished making them, I knew immediately what to name them, Heartache. I don't know where this came from because, on that day, I wasn't experiencing any particular emotional pain. But I remember so well what it feels like. There is always plenty of secondhand heartache to be felt for those around me who are suffering, as I seem to have an over-developed sense of empathy for other people's sadness. My heart can feel heavy just listening to the evening news, to say nothing of how I react to the pain that those I love are dealing with. But it's a different level of heartache when it's your very own.

I have not forgotten nor am I finished experiencing what firsthand heartache feels like: that pinprick of pain when the hurt first strikes (the single red crystal), that burdensome weight in my chest that never seems to lighten (the dark patina on the silver), the lethargy, the sense that I can't inhale enough oxygen when I breathe (the white pearls). I know it all so well.

On that day, however, I was reminded how wonderful the absence of heartache feels. I was having to remember what it felt like rather than being able to reach in and access it at that very moment. I learn so much during the difficult times of my life, though, which doesn't exactly give me something to look forward to, but it gives heartache a real purpose in my life. It's also when I allow God a chance to fully be my God. That can't be a Bad Thing.

Photographing Jewelry: Summed Up In One Word

2008-08-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

ARRRGGGHHH! That would be the word.

I think most amateur photographers like myself would agree that it is a pain to take decent pictures of small shiny objects like jewelry. Since I'm endeavoring to sell my jewelry online, taking decent pictures (forget great pictures) is really a minimum requirement and sometimes achieving even that makes me a little crazy -- okay, a lot crazy. (For proof of encroaching insanity just look at the whole of my blog!)

The laws of human nature are such that:

a. Most people won't spend their money on an item sight unseen.

b. Most people won't spend their money on an item only slightly seen.

c. Most people get really mad if they buy something only to find that it isn't what they thought based on looking at the pictures.

My photography equipment includes a light box that I point very hot lights at, with considerable effort made to keep the bulbs from touching the oh-so-flammable material. Sitting on a teeny tiny stool at the foot of this setup, I aim my little camera at the piece of jewelry I've ever so artistically arranged in the light box, and start snapping. I constantly check and reset my camera settings: program mode, aperture priority mode, ISO speed up, ISO speed down, adjust my white balance, check for shadows, check for bright spots, shoot at a left angle, right angle, side, go low, go high, get the whole piece in the shot, get just an edge in the shot, zoom in close, pan out wide, go team go!

Seventy pictures later, when every conceivable angle and technique I know has been used, I can finally download my pictures, and voila! I've got four or five decent shots if I'm lucky. Wow. This is when I do some soul searching. Just how bad are the pictures, really? Can I bear to sit on that hard little stool with my arms hanging in the air in order to retake some shots? Do I wait to post my listing until tomorrow when my arms have stopped shaking? Or do I just throw myself into another round of picture taking?

Fortunately, the above scenario isn't always the case. Some jewelry, because of the colors of the components used, can be much easier to photograph than others. Light colors mixed with shiny sterling silver make good photos especially difficult to achieve -- for me anyway. I know there are a lot of people out there who have mastered the art of jewelry photography, and with equipment similar to what I've got. I'm getting marginally better as time goes by.

I think, however, that I will buy a cushion for my stool. It's a business expense, right?

(I was wishing I could get rid of the black spot that showed up in the middle of each of these shiny sterling silver rounds in this photo. When I looked closer, I realized that the black spot was actually a reflection of my camera with my fingers surrounding the lens. I was quite pleased with the effect once I realized what I'd captured, even if it was accidental.)

Part IV: Fritzy's Friend

2008-08-23T17:03:00.000-07:00

I walk into the house this afternoon, and right off I see Fritzy wearing my clothes - again! She never asks! Then I notice she's got a friend over. They're in the dining room with a mess on the table, and they're up to something. I ask, "What's going on?" They both just look at me like I should butt out. So I shrug and walk out of the room.

A little later they're in the kitchen and Fritzy's standing in front of the fridge with the door wide open. When I come in, she turns to me and says, "Don't you ever shop?!?" I hate to be rude around her friend, but I'm thinking, would it kill you to shop for yourself once in a while?

Later I notice them in the living room with their heads together, whispering.

As soon as I walk by they stop and try to look all nonchalant. Every time I cruise through the house, the same thing happens. I was beginning to feel like an intruder.

I was so glad when her friend finally left. Of course they left the mess in the dining room. I suppose Fritzy expects me to clean it up for her.

Not Lucky, But Blessed, Fortunate, Favored, Happy

2008-08-21T13:02:00.000-07:00

I don't believe in luck. Luck is too random. Sometimes I hear myself wishing someone "good luck!" then think, I've got to come up with a better exit line than that. "Bonne chance" sounds more exotic, but it's still bestowing a blessing of luck. Maybe "God bless you" is what I should get in the habit of bidding someone. It reflects what I do believe in.

I looked "luck" up in my little thesaurus to see what they would list as synonyms. The words in the title of this post include a few of the ones I identify with at this stage of my life, which is that of Grandma-in-waiting (that's me on the right, patiently in-waiting).

My daughter, my only child, is pregnant for the first time! Even though I also don't believe a person can jinx things, I've found myself somewhat hesitant to talk about it because it seems too good to be true. We were concerned for a couple of years that pregnancy for my daughter would be difficult at best, impossible at worst. But God in His heaven had plans, and Lily Joy is on her way, due in December! And she's beautiful!

I am Grandma Lynne already to one lovely, loving granddaughter, and two grandsons that constantly crack me up. These grandkids are thanks to my husband's children, so Lily will be the first to sprout directly off my twig of the family tree.

There are millions of grandmas in the world, and I get to be one of them! And I hope each one feels as blessed, fortunate and favored as I do. This is what the other side of child rearing is all about, isn't it?

Part III: Awkward Moments With Fritzy

2008-08-19T12:23:00.000-07:00

I accidentally walked in on Fritzy in the bathroom this morning. Man, I hate doing that! I guess I'm still getting used to having her here. So, in I walk, bold as brass! You know those awkward moments when everything seems to move in slow motion? Anyway, I'm standing there staring at her because I'm surprised to see someone in my bathroom.

She says, Quit staring and close the door!

So I close the door and leave. I was so embarrassed I couldn't look her in the eye the rest of the day.

However, I did notice later that she looked fetching wearing a new sapphire and sterling silver necklace I made today. (How's that for a seque?) I have got to get her another tee shirt though.

Part II: Fritzy's Blue Monday in Spades

2008-08-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

Fritzy didn't look all that well today. She was lying around on the couch, eating chips and watching TV just about all day. I knew something was really wrong because she was even wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday.

I asked her if she was feeling ok, and she said, Yeah, you know -- it's Monday....

I said, Geez girl, shake it off already!

She just kind of groaned and told me to leave her alone.

I snagged a couple of chips and left.

Whatever!

Part I: Poolside With Fritzy

2008-08-17T21:22:00.001-07:00

Before the sun got too strong this morning, Fritzy was out by the pool getting ready to skim. I'd seen her putting sun screen on earlier, but couldn't figure out why she was putting on her black tee shirt instead of a bathing suit, or at least shorts and a tank top. Turns out it was a little chilly still, so I guess the long-sleeved shirt made sense. I hope she didn't splash herself because you know how chlorine can fade your clothes.

The tee shirt is new, by the way. I got it for her on Friday from a neighbor's yard sale that I just happened to drive by on my way home from the post office. How could I resist a cute little girl sitting in her front yard in 100+ degree heat with clothes spread out on her lawn (her mom was outside melting along with her). She was trying to earn her own spending money. I thought, Wonderful! A new shirt for Fritzy and a way to make a little one happy by buying some of her wares. I thought the tee shirt would be perfect for Fritzy, and it is; it fits beautifully. She really appreciated the gesture.

Of a Wednesday

2008-08-13T20:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a fairly productive day, which is not a claim I can make too often. I got my hair "done" (great euphemism, isn't it?), which took almost two hours out of my day, but still managed to make a couple of pairs of earrings, check in on the forums on Etsy a few times, update my Etsy shop, talk to my mother on the phone, and finish the laundry.

Please note that making dinner is not included among my list of accomplishments. I do my part though. When my husband calls and asks what he can bring home for dinner, because of my dedication to watching the food channel on TV, I'm usually ready with an answer. Don't tell me I'm not domestic!

Just to prove my point, I decided to include a recipe in today's posting, which, unlike the recipe I posted yesterday for removing tarnish, is actually edible. Just call me Betty.

Chinese Salad

1 large Napa or Chinese cabbage
6 green onions, chopped (I leave these out)
1 package chicken ramen soup
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup sesame seeds
4 oz slivered almonds

Melt butter and add seasoning packet. Smash noodles and brown in butter along with almonds and sesame seeds. Set aside to cool.

Wash and chop cabbage. Put in large bowl.

Dressing:
1 Tbls soy sauce
1/4 cup oil
splash of toasted sesame oil is good too if you've got it
1/4 cup white vinegar
1/3 cup sugar
salt & pepper to taste

Toss everything together right before serving. Plop some shredded chicken on top and you've got a complete meal.

I Love It When Things Actually Work

2008-08-12T14:11:00.000-07:00

I decided to give one of the homemade "recipes" for removing tarnish a try. I sell my jewelry at a friend's custom clothing design shop here in Sacramento, as well as on Etsy. For some reason, the sterling silver jewelry I display in the shop tarnishes at warp speed compared to any other place I've had it. I don't know if it's the chemicals certain fabrics emit, the fluorescent lights, or even the humidity in the air that causes this. Most likely it's a combination of all of these things.

My friend's clientele includes a lot of brides, so many of the pieces I display for sale in her shop are made with pearls. When jewelry gets tarnished and the components include pearls, I never use a tarnish removing dip because that would ruin the luster on the pearls. Using a polishing cloth is safer, but it never works to remove all of the tarnish since the cloths only clean the areas you can actually wipe with the cloth, so chains and tiny jump rings can't possibly get completely shiny again. So I decided to give a home remedy a test on some pearl and sterling silver jewelry I recently brought home from the shop because they were getting so darkened with tarnish.

I lined a shallow dish with tin foil, shiny side up, then dissolved 1 tsp salt and 1 tsp baking soda in two cups of warm (not hot) water. I placed the jewelry on top of the foil, and poured the warm water solution over it, completely submerging it.

After 10-20 minutes, I was really pleased with the results (on right).

The most dramatic result, however, was on a pair of earrings that I had made using two different kinds of jump rings. Depending on the alloy used, sterling silver will tarnish at differing rates of speed. The twisted wire rings on these earrings possibly have more copper in the sterling silver than the plain smooth rings. The earring on the left is the untreated one. The earring on the right is the shining result of soaking it in the above-mentioned solution for 20 minutes.

I'm really pleased to find that this particular home remedy actually works and is safe enough to use on delicate pearls.

The View From Behind

2008-08-11T11:47:00.000-07:00

I've got this great little car. It's a 2000 Toyota Echo that I bought used four years ago. I'm like the proverbial little old lady who only drives to church on Sunday, or, rather, I only drive to the bead shop on Thursdays. This eight year old car has all of 38,000 miles on it (and that's only if I round up). It has crank-style window handles, I have to reach out the driver's side door or stretch waaaay over out the passenger-side window in order to adjust my side-view mirrors, no cruise control. It complains when I stomp on the accelerator (seems to love doing 50mph; starts to shake at 70). Goes 0 to 60 in about 45 seconds. Getting on these California freeways is nothing less than an adrenaline rush! Will I get taken out by an SUV today doing 80 in the slow lane? In an effort to preserve my life, I typically take surface streets in lieu of the freeway whenever possible.

But here's what it has that I absolutely love, besides amazing gas mileage (I fill up three times a year). It's got a brand new license plate frame with my BeadyIze logo and Etsy address on it. It has got to be the best accessory money can buy, as far as I'm concerned. Every time I come up to a signal now, I hope it will turn red so I can sit there with someone behind me who will admire my license plate frame. It's changed my whole attitude about red lights!

If you would like to get one of these little beauties for yourself, check out monsterpromos.etsy.com. The price is right, delivery is fast. I'm getting a second frame for my husband's car. I know he'll come to love red lights, too.

Just thought I'd spread the love.

Wandering Puppy

2008-08-09T21:20:00.001-07:00

(This is my daughter's sweet little wandering puppy that I get to dog-sit every now and then.)

I've been thinking about style lately. Specifically, my style; how to define it, how to reinforce it. For some, I wonder if this process comes easily. Personally, I've felt like a puppy: nose to the ground or in the air, tracking first one scent, then another. Whatever happens to draw my attention at any given moment is what I'm focused on.

I posted a while back about not wanting to restrict myself to designing any one type of jewelry, which is still the case. However, I've come to realize that there is a certain amount of frustration associated with not feeling like my jewelry represents "me". It's that part in quotes that's really got me going. What do I see as "me"?

I've never been a goal-oriented person. I don't know why. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, unless wanting to be a teenager, when I was 5, counts as a goal (and, by the way, I reached that particular goal). The jobs I've had throughout my life were ones I sort of fell into, although I know God's hand has been guiding me even though events appeared haphazard.

So I've taken time these past few weeks to step back and try to look at my work objectively, if that's at all possible. What do I see emerging as a "look"? What techniques do I love doing the most? What materials do I love working with the most? What pieces do I feel the proudest of? And, just as importantly, what pieces have I made that I don't really care for that I should remove from my inventory?

In the coming days, I'm going to practice tough love on myself (remember that?). I'm going to cull through my jewelry and delete all those pieces that I dislike. I'm going to write down some specific objectives where new projects are concerned, and I'm going to focus primarily on making those pieces that I see as being "me". I want to really concentrate on developing my style without sacrificing enjoyment in what I do or being overly rigid. No requirements, just more focus.

At 54, I've finally got a real goal! I feel so grown up!

This Never Gets Old!

2008-08-01T16:16:00.000-07:00

I seem to have a real appetite for apatite lately! The beautiful aqua colored stone is definitely a favorite of mine, and I love the name: apatite. (Reminds me it's time for a snack!) I made the bracelet on the left the other day and oxidized all the sterling silver components because I just love the contrast of the dark, gun metal gray with the bright aqua of the apatite.

Another huge favorite of mine is sapphire. The earrings on the right (also made with oxidized sterling silver) fade from light to dark, and are more heavily clustered at the top than at the bottom, so they fade visually in both respects. Sapphire is a little more costly than some other gemstones, and having just a small supply to work with makes the process of creating even more of a joy. I tend to plan my projects more carefully when I'm working with stones that are precious to me.

The sapphires in these earrings are tiny, too, only about 2.5m. They are like little droplets of water in my hands while I'm wrapping the wire on each one. The bottom right photo shows the sapphires I'm going to use all laid out and ready to attach to the central chain. (I've got my eye drops and my iced tea -- I'm good for another hour!) I always lay my stones out on a piece of white paper in order to see the colors in a more true light. I spend quite a bit of time getting the colors lined up just right, and I match the color of the stones for both earrings ahead of time so they will have the same shade of blue, stone for stone, down the chain.

If.

2008-07-28T07:46:00.000-07:00

If you looked good wearing weeds in your hair, would you do it?

If you ratted your hair and lost your comb in there, would you go find it?

If I lose all my hair, how much will I care?

Word games or head trip?

2008-07-25T21:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I speak, I actually picture in my mind the spelling of certain words as I'm saying them. (I think there's something wrong with me!) I'm sure that I don't always spell them correctly in my head, but it's my best guess. I do this with people's names sometimes, too. I'm sensitive to the way names are spelled probably because my name is spelled "Lynne" rather than "Lynn", and people quite often leave the 'e' off the end. I'm used to it, but I always notice it.

When I worked in an office not too long ago, I regularly posted email and would sometimes write something like, "We don't need to discuss this anymore as it is a mute point." My husband finally told me that the word I wanted is spelled moot not mute, as in "unable to speak". Oh.

If only incorrect spelling was our biggest problem as a society. But I digress. Following is a list of some of my favorite misspellings along with some words that are commonly misused in a sentence. I'm not sure what has possessed me to go so far as to blog about this. I guess it's a slow day.

Incorrect spellings [correct spelling]:

embarassing [embarrassing]
beleive [believe]
recieve [receive]
releive [relieve]
lenth [length]
pateince [patience]
definately [definitely]
relavant [relevant]
wierd [weird]
accomodate [accommodate]
accummulate [accumulate]
begining [beginning]
inteligence [intelligence]
avacado [avocado]
vanila [vanilla]

Used incorrectly in a sentence:

then and than

wrong: He grabbed my sandwich than started running.
right: He grabbed my sandwich then started running.

wrong: I'd rather he grab my sandwich then my cookie.
right: I'd rather he grab my sandwich than my cookie.

there, their, they're
wrong: He took my sandwich to there house.
right: He took my sandwich to their house.

wrong: He said my sandwich was over their in the ditch.
right: He said my sandwich was over there in the ditch.

wrong: He told my mother their making me a new sandwich.
right: He told my mother they're making me a new sandwich.

to, too
wrong: I said I want my cookie back to.
right: I said I want my cookie back too.

wrong: When I went too the ditch, my cookie was in there to.
right: When I went to the ditch, my cookie was in there too.

effect, affect
wrong: What affect will getting a new sandwich have on me?
right: What effect will getting a new sandwich have on me?

wrong: I was effected in a positive way when I found my cookie.
right: I was affected in a positive way when I found my cookie.

lose, loose, loss
wrong: When I loose things like my sandwich, I get really depressed.
right: When I lose things like my sandwich, I get really depressed.

wrong: I'll turn my cookie lose only if absolutely forced!
right: I'll turn my cookie loose only if absolutely forced!

wrong: The sandwich theft... now that was a real lose.
right: The sandwich theft... now that was a real loss.

Beady-Ize Builds Baubles: Wish Bone Earrings

2008-07-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

I just made these wish bone earrings and listed them for sale in my store yesterday. (Click on an image to go to that item for more information.)

These are a lot of fun to make, and the potential for variation is practically limitless. They are extremely light-weight and, being made with 20 gauge sterling silver wire, they are comfortable in the ear, won't stretch your lobe like thicker gauge wire can.

Unearthing Inspiration

2008-07-13T17:46:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I've thought a lot about inspiration. I've been away for a short vacation to the scenic Sierra Nevada's near Yosemite, an absolutely gorgeous area of California, and one that is, fortunately, not battling wildfires right now.

I know that some people purposely set out to "get inspired". They take walks through the woods or a park, stroll along the shore, go to museums and galleries, garden, meditate, go to Paris.... So, before I left for my mini-vacation I thought, oh good, time away from my usual surroundings to spend contemplating among the pines and redwoods, get my creative juices flowing again.

Hm. Didn't happen. I guess I can't purposely set out to get inspired. My problem is that I over-think everything. But tomorrow morning, when I open my industrial-looking, gray metal drawers to paw through all the ziplock baggies containing all of my beautiful gemstones and beads, my mind will reel with design ideas that will tumble over each other in a torrent. I'll have to force myself to slow down and focus, breath deeply and relax. Otherwise the excitement, and, yes, the inspiration that I will feel when I come face-to-face with these raw materials will overwhelm me. How unpoetic.

Think of all the money I'll save on vacations that I can spend on beads!

Apropos of Nothing: The Phone Series

2008-07-08T09:26:00.001-07:00

I would've called, but they took my phone.
I should've called, but I had no voice.
I tried to call, but the line was dead.
When I finally call it'll be too late.
__________________________

One thing I love about blogging is that you don't really have to explain yourself.

Who am I? And other "blue" thoughts.

2008-07-06T20:39:00.000-07:00

I just made these earrings over the weekend. I am infatuated (or is it the real thing?) with the combination of aqua and blue. These are made with apatite and sapphire.

If I had to absolutely choose one style of jewelry to make I think I'd have a nervous breakdown! When I'm working on something with very organic-looking gemstones and dark, oxidized sterling silver I think, these are my favorite materials. But then I'll feel a desire to shift gears and pull out my beautiful Swarovski crystals and gold filled findings and think, you guessed it, these are my favorites. And there are so many styles in-between. I love them all and feel such a rush when whatever I'm working with comes together in a way that I find pleasing to my eye.

What is this love affair with making jewelry all about? So many people are involved it's incredible! Will it be a passing phase, or is it around to stay?

Regaining Perspective on the 4th

2008-07-05T12:31:00.000-07:00

The 4th of July was even more meaningful for us this year; we have a Blue Star Service Banner in our front window which represents a family member serving in the military. Serving in the Navy in Baghdad is our son, my step-son (shown in photo on left, being promoted to Lieutenant Commander just a few days ago). Saying that we are proud of him and his service to our country doesn't half cover what we feel. It's an honor to display the Blue Star and we never forget the sacrifice that he and his wife and kids are making, and the fact that we miss having him close by. We've heard the phrase "being in harm's way" over and over again during the war, but it carries with it new meaning as we pray every day for the safety of our own loved one as well as all who are serving.

So, what's right with the world?

2008-07-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

I've met some amazing people online thru my Etsy store, from all over the world. There are days, like yesterday, when I get such nice emails from my "customers" (they feel more like friends) that I'm practically glowing by the end of the day.

You know the old saying, "It's nice to be nice to the nice". Or something like that.... By the way, there's a whole lot of 'nice' going on in Australia!

I love the bumper sticker that says "practice random acts of kindness". If more people did that instead of practicing some version of road rage (life rage, consumer rage, get-out-of-my-face rage) it could possibly spiral out of control into a veritable lovefest! Well, that may be an exaggeration, but without a doubt it would have a positive domino effect. I'm trying to be one of the dominoes in that line up. I'll have to ask my husband how I'm doing.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful!

2008-07-02T08:45:00.000-07:00

Photo is circa 1964. Note the rat crawling up my left shoulder. What's that all about?!? The glasses were, uh well, they were... I only needed them to see. I believe everyone should publish at least one embarrassing photo of themselves. Kinda takes the sting out of it.

I moved to Sacramento, CA, by way of Nebraska, when I was eight years old and have been here ever since. I've never lost my love for the mid-West, however: open spaces, farmland - I still love it and feel like something breaks free inside of me when I'm in that environment.

The World According to Blue

2008-06-30T21:11:00.000-07:00

I wish I had invented blue.

Now where did I put my typewriter....

2008-06-29T20:50:00.001-07:00

I've never done this before, this blog thing. I haven't even read that many. So why am I doing this? I guess because it's here. I figured, why not give it a shot? What's the worst that can happen?

The Queen of Cliches.