So I hear that it's delurk day, but apparently I've been too busy running mell pell about to notice. So here on my blog, it's de-lurk week and weekend.
If you read here and have never commented, whether you've always wanted to or not, please stop and say hi! Taking a page from Cecily, I'll also invite my readers to ask any burning questions you'd like me to take a stab at.
I'm looking forward to meeting a few more of you. And I promise I'll try to come by your blogs too if you have 'em.
--
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Household Tides
After nearly ten years in this house, we and our stuff have gotten rather set in our ways.
If you've spent a length of time in one location, you can guess how it goes. Things pile up, and after the initial arrangements, one rearranges every so often. Sometimes one has had to rig up temporary solutions to permanent problems or rearrange a new version of what we think we want and can get away with. After a few years, they become what passes for a permanent situation (not always happily, but that's another story). Next thing you know, years have gone by, and it's all cobbled together and who knows what is really necessary.
Well, I'm finding that a little kitchen redo is a good excuse to rethink everything. Now that I have a small portion of something like permanent storage, I can reshuffle. Or at least, reshuffle and reorganize temporarily. Ha.
I moved items out of old storage into new storage. Things like baking ingredients and mixing bowls, herbs and oils, canned goods and food storage containers.
I move some items out of old storage into temporary storage. Things like teas and mugs and baking dishes.
I move some items out of very temporary storage into new temporary storage. Things like pasta and dried beans and aluminum foil.
Why all these temporary locations? I don't have all my permanent storage yet! But it's been very interesting, in all my rearranging, resorting and resettling, inadvertently finding out what is important and necessary, and what is relatively irrelevant.
I wrestled the large blue (heavy!) tub of items that used to be in the wire shelving UP, from the basement, and retrieved some important food stuffs from that very temporary location and put them where I can get them. Which is relatively temporary, because when the electricians will come in and finish up the new outlets, I'l be moving it all aside. At least temporarily!
More to the point, now that I've retrieved my "important" things, and even more importantly, put them in prime locations, I'm interested to note what is left. A variety of very nutritious but little used dried seaweeds. A jar with the remains of bulk chili mix. A hanging wire basket for root vegetables. Storage jars.
Does it all need a place? Or do I even need them at all any more? Some items sit in semi-permanent temporary storage. Does that need to be moved to a more accessible spot? Or just permanently thrown away? Hehe, well that's the question, isn't it?
It's an interesting exercise for nearly anything: lovingly arrange what is truly important and look very critically at the rest. What do you really need and love?
This is how I finally realized that we could get rid of that second set of old knives.
And then there is the small room's worth of stuff that we hurriedly yanked out of what was to become the baby's room. It's all still floating about the house like the trash island of the Pacific, except in smaller clumps.
Nothing is permanently tied down just yet, but.... the tides of the household are shifting around. It'll be interesting to see what ends up where, and what is left washed up and abandoned. Every week, I start another trash bag of items to throw away and another box of items to give away. Nope! Don't need that!
--
If you've spent a length of time in one location, you can guess how it goes. Things pile up, and after the initial arrangements, one rearranges every so often. Sometimes one has had to rig up temporary solutions to permanent problems or rearrange a new version of what we think we want and can get away with. After a few years, they become what passes for a permanent situation (not always happily, but that's another story). Next thing you know, years have gone by, and it's all cobbled together and who knows what is really necessary.
Well, I'm finding that a little kitchen redo is a good excuse to rethink everything. Now that I have a small portion of something like permanent storage, I can reshuffle. Or at least, reshuffle and reorganize temporarily. Ha.
I moved items out of old storage into new storage. Things like baking ingredients and mixing bowls, herbs and oils, canned goods and food storage containers.
I move some items out of old storage into temporary storage. Things like teas and mugs and baking dishes.
I move some items out of very temporary storage into new temporary storage. Things like pasta and dried beans and aluminum foil.
Why all these temporary locations? I don't have all my permanent storage yet! But it's been very interesting, in all my rearranging, resorting and resettling, inadvertently finding out what is important and necessary, and what is relatively irrelevant.
I wrestled the large blue (heavy!) tub of items that used to be in the wire shelving UP, from the basement, and retrieved some important food stuffs from that very temporary location and put them where I can get them. Which is relatively temporary, because when the electricians will come in and finish up the new outlets, I'l be moving it all aside. At least temporarily!
More to the point, now that I've retrieved my "important" things, and even more importantly, put them in prime locations, I'm interested to note what is left. A variety of very nutritious but little used dried seaweeds. A jar with the remains of bulk chili mix. A hanging wire basket for root vegetables. Storage jars.
Does it all need a place? Or do I even need them at all any more? Some items sit in semi-permanent temporary storage. Does that need to be moved to a more accessible spot? Or just permanently thrown away? Hehe, well that's the question, isn't it?
It's an interesting exercise for nearly anything: lovingly arrange what is truly important and look very critically at the rest. What do you really need and love?
This is how I finally realized that we could get rid of that second set of old knives.
And then there is the small room's worth of stuff that we hurriedly yanked out of what was to become the baby's room. It's all still floating about the house like the trash island of the Pacific, except in smaller clumps.
Nothing is permanently tied down just yet, but.... the tides of the household are shifting around. It'll be interesting to see what ends up where, and what is left washed up and abandoned. Every week, I start another trash bag of items to throw away and another box of items to give away. Nope! Don't need that!
--
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Holiday Odyssey Goes On Forever
I survived Christmas and the rest of the holiday with sanity intact, and I even enjoyed myself.
We went, we shopped, we managed a few potentially stressful interactions, we enjoyed small but meaningful moments.
Christmas Eve we made it to the early service with the childrens' pageant and stayed for a communal meal between services, meeting lots of people we hadn't seen in months or longer. It was a luxury to visit and ask about other people's lives. We spent hours watching the little girl play with wrapping paper (never mind the presents), then spent an additional afternoon of fun and laughter and paper shreddings and food with family. The little girl tolerated the madness remarkably well. We are so proud of her!
I also survived (but just barely) the packing/travel madness to and from a New Year's dance weekend event with the little girl in tow. Much wrangling of the schedule, trying to catch the main events, and missing out on many other things. When the clock got close, I told my husband, "count it down for us," and he whispered the count and we kissed while the little girl snoozed on. She continued to snooze soundly through fifteen minutes of nearby fireworks. She did not sleep well through painful diaper rash episodes. We traded off dancing and got to visit occasionally with friends who ran across us and wanted to chat. How I had any brain for that is astounding. I never did get to go walking down by the ocean this trip, and I was sad about that, but not eager to extend the trip that much longer.
The whole project was another semi-miserable travel odyssey, wherein an trip that ordinarily takes a reasonable amount of time mysteriously extends by some factor of time, and any "quick stop" takes half an hour if you expected 15 minutes, or 1.5 hours if you expected an hour, or nearly 3 if you expected 1.5. I'm still trying to decide if all the aggravation of traveling is worth it these days. The time and effort expended don't seem to quite fit into the pleasure of a given goal. A number of things feel that way. I find myself narrowing down my ambitions and focus. I have only so much energy to work with.
OH! And did I mention we had half a kitchen of new cabinets installed the day after Christmas?! Yes, those same cabinets we've spent a couple of years planning, the same set that we bought more than a year ago - all finally installed by one of my mother's church friends, a master carpenter in need of work. The best present for all of us my mother could have ever thought of. Even as a partially completed kitchen, they look beautiful. We've spent so much time rearranging the new space, both of us gleeful over it all. And today, while I pulled another long day with the kiddo, Mr Sweetie went to the nearest IKEA for the rest of the kitchen's worth of cabinets for a future final installation. Another long odyssey that took nearly twice as long as hoped.
So all of this to say that this "break" has not been very relaxing, yet remarkably, it's been mostly gratifying. I still have cookies to mail and a kitchen to clean up and.... oh, did I mention that the little girl is starting to pull up on any available furniture? We are just trying to keep up with our lives! And the internet is not feeling so special at the moment. I just don't have the attention to spare.
Does that ever happen to you? I feel myself sitting back, watching the flow of interaction among my friends and interest groups online, but not yet ready to dive back in. I feel tired, truth be told. I leave my computer alone for hours at a time while I try to keep up with the latest episode of diaper rash and the little girl finding new ways to nearly endanger herself, and myself trying to beat back the leftover mess and chaos of the holidays. Even new gifts are an additional drag on my time, wanting new attention and more ambitions. I can't do it all. Anything new has to come out of something old. It's not bad to drop a few things if it means making space for new things. It's also not bad to put off new things to take care of ones basic priorities.
And although it's a cliche of the New Year to set out wishful goals and resolutions, I have a few of those too. This year, it does feel fresh, blank slate ready for a new start. Or as the lovely Oprah quote says, “Cheers to a New Year and another chance for us to get it right.” If I pick my battles and refine my vision of what I can actually do, I am hopeful I'll get it closer to "right."
Happy New Year and new decade to all my regular and random readers!
--
We went, we shopped, we managed a few potentially stressful interactions, we enjoyed small but meaningful moments.
Christmas Eve we made it to the early service with the childrens' pageant and stayed for a communal meal between services, meeting lots of people we hadn't seen in months or longer. It was a luxury to visit and ask about other people's lives. We spent hours watching the little girl play with wrapping paper (never mind the presents), then spent an additional afternoon of fun and laughter and paper shreddings and food with family. The little girl tolerated the madness remarkably well. We are so proud of her!
I also survived (but just barely) the packing/travel madness to and from a New Year's dance weekend event with the little girl in tow. Much wrangling of the schedule, trying to catch the main events, and missing out on many other things. When the clock got close, I told my husband, "count it down for us," and he whispered the count and we kissed while the little girl snoozed on. She continued to snooze soundly through fifteen minutes of nearby fireworks. She did not sleep well through painful diaper rash episodes. We traded off dancing and got to visit occasionally with friends who ran across us and wanted to chat. How I had any brain for that is astounding. I never did get to go walking down by the ocean this trip, and I was sad about that, but not eager to extend the trip that much longer.
The whole project was another semi-miserable travel odyssey, wherein an trip that ordinarily takes a reasonable amount of time mysteriously extends by some factor of time, and any "quick stop" takes half an hour if you expected 15 minutes, or 1.5 hours if you expected an hour, or nearly 3 if you expected 1.5. I'm still trying to decide if all the aggravation of traveling is worth it these days. The time and effort expended don't seem to quite fit into the pleasure of a given goal. A number of things feel that way. I find myself narrowing down my ambitions and focus. I have only so much energy to work with.
OH! And did I mention we had half a kitchen of new cabinets installed the day after Christmas?! Yes, those same cabinets we've spent a couple of years planning, the same set that we bought more than a year ago - all finally installed by one of my mother's church friends, a master carpenter in need of work. The best present for all of us my mother could have ever thought of. Even as a partially completed kitchen, they look beautiful. We've spent so much time rearranging the new space, both of us gleeful over it all. And today, while I pulled another long day with the kiddo, Mr Sweetie went to the nearest IKEA for the rest of the kitchen's worth of cabinets for a future final installation. Another long odyssey that took nearly twice as long as hoped.
So all of this to say that this "break" has not been very relaxing, yet remarkably, it's been mostly gratifying. I still have cookies to mail and a kitchen to clean up and.... oh, did I mention that the little girl is starting to pull up on any available furniture? We are just trying to keep up with our lives! And the internet is not feeling so special at the moment. I just don't have the attention to spare.
Does that ever happen to you? I feel myself sitting back, watching the flow of interaction among my friends and interest groups online, but not yet ready to dive back in. I feel tired, truth be told. I leave my computer alone for hours at a time while I try to keep up with the latest episode of diaper rash and the little girl finding new ways to nearly endanger herself, and myself trying to beat back the leftover mess and chaos of the holidays. Even new gifts are an additional drag on my time, wanting new attention and more ambitions. I can't do it all. Anything new has to come out of something old. It's not bad to drop a few things if it means making space for new things. It's also not bad to put off new things to take care of ones basic priorities.
And although it's a cliche of the New Year to set out wishful goals and resolutions, I have a few of those too. This year, it does feel fresh, blank slate ready for a new start. Or as the lovely Oprah quote says, “Cheers to a New Year and another chance for us to get it right.” If I pick my battles and refine my vision of what I can actually do, I am hopeful I'll get it closer to "right."
Happy New Year and new decade to all my regular and random readers!
--
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Chipping Away at the Pile
Chipping Away at the excess in my life. Yesterday I was thinking about how sometimes it doesn't feel like what I do is enough. Today I was noticing again how I sometimes have too much in my life.
This week, it's too much to do, almost too many social events (too many if we want to keep up with the little girl), too many emails. Oh My. The emails.
I belong to several listservs and reminder-and-notification services. This means it it not unusual for me to get dozens of emails a day if not hour. It's not the tens and hundreds that can pile up in my husband's inbox (everyone gets copied on email discussion whether they need to or not). But it's still substantial.
Last Summer, I decided this could not go on! Following an idea from Leo of Zen Habits and the unclutterer, I shrunk my inbox down to nothing by pasting everything that had piled up into another folder. Then every day, I'd delete the ones I didn't need. That left me accumulating only a few emails per day.
Last month I came back from my trip and realized that once again, I had over a thousand emails simply sitting in my inbox. Now some of them, yes, I need to save for some reason, like gig notes or family correspondence. But what about everything else?!
Frankly, since I had the baby, I simply cannot read everything. I took myself off a couple of lists, and started freely deleting the rest. I actually do read or at least skim the neighborhood listserv, and the notifications from FB help keep me up with my friends across the region and country. Then there are people asking for info or offering me gigs or my mother asking me if I'll make it to an event. Still. 1150+ emails? No. This can't go on. It was to over 2000 at one point, and I shrunk it back by half.
My best practice for shrinking the pile of emails is to purge daily and weekly, monthly, or whatever it takes.
I look at my inbox and ask myself, "Of those things labeled "Today," what do I really need to keep? Any? None? Delete, delete, file, delete!" Then I move onto to those email labeled "Yesterday" and so on.
It's not perfect, but it's the best I can do, and by that I mean it's really the only thing I can do, short of archiving piles of crap, I mean, emails permanently. And what on earth makes me think I will go back and look at them again? Hahaha, no.
An interesting corollary is that I attempt the same strategies with my paper piles.
First I try to get rid of as much incoming as possible. I take myself off of mailing lists and refuse to give info to people who just want to send me more mail. Then I keep trying to file or act on the items that need it, and throw away the rest. And just like as with email, I sometimes I get so annoyed with my lack of progress that I dump a whole pile of stuff into a new box just to get it out of my sight. And it's no surprise, unfortunately, that a new pile just grows in its place! Then, ultimately, I have to keep at it, purging on a daily basis.
I won't even get into news services. I just don't subscribe any more. I cannot keep up with every last thing happening in the world.
It must be a curse of the modern world, though, that we are so connected and so in touch and thusly so overwhelmed with items demanding our attention. All I can think of is to ignore most of it and purge the rest. Every damn day.
--
This week, it's too much to do, almost too many social events (too many if we want to keep up with the little girl), too many emails. Oh My. The emails.
I belong to several listservs and reminder-and-notification services. This means it it not unusual for me to get dozens of emails a day if not hour. It's not the tens and hundreds that can pile up in my husband's inbox (everyone gets copied on email discussion whether they need to or not). But it's still substantial.
Last Summer, I decided this could not go on! Following an idea from Leo of Zen Habits and the unclutterer, I shrunk my inbox down to nothing by pasting everything that had piled up into another folder. Then every day, I'd delete the ones I didn't need. That left me accumulating only a few emails per day.
Last month I came back from my trip and realized that once again, I had over a thousand emails simply sitting in my inbox. Now some of them, yes, I need to save for some reason, like gig notes or family correspondence. But what about everything else?!
Frankly, since I had the baby, I simply cannot read everything. I took myself off a couple of lists, and started freely deleting the rest. I actually do read or at least skim the neighborhood listserv, and the notifications from FB help keep me up with my friends across the region and country. Then there are people asking for info or offering me gigs or my mother asking me if I'll make it to an event. Still. 1150+ emails? No. This can't go on. It was to over 2000 at one point, and I shrunk it back by half.
My best practice for shrinking the pile of emails is to purge daily and weekly, monthly, or whatever it takes.
I look at my inbox and ask myself, "Of those things labeled "Today," what do I really need to keep? Any? None? Delete, delete, file, delete!" Then I move onto to those email labeled "Yesterday" and so on.
It's not perfect, but it's the best I can do, and by that I mean it's really the only thing I can do, short of archiving piles of crap, I mean, emails permanently. And what on earth makes me think I will go back and look at them again? Hahaha, no.
An interesting corollary is that I attempt the same strategies with my paper piles.
First I try to get rid of as much incoming as possible. I take myself off of mailing lists and refuse to give info to people who just want to send me more mail. Then I keep trying to file or act on the items that need it, and throw away the rest. And just like as with email, I sometimes I get so annoyed with my lack of progress that I dump a whole pile of stuff into a new box just to get it out of my sight. And it's no surprise, unfortunately, that a new pile just grows in its place! Then, ultimately, I have to keep at it, purging on a daily basis.
I won't even get into news services. I just don't subscribe any more. I cannot keep up with every last thing happening in the world.
It must be a curse of the modern world, though, that we are so connected and so in touch and thusly so overwhelmed with items demanding our attention. All I can think of is to ignore most of it and purge the rest. Every damn day.
--
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Gift Perfectionism? When is It Enough?
So yesterday's post got me thinking again about how I tend to approach gift giving.
I find it often very difficult to buy, or rather, choose, gifts. Whether it's for my husband or my sister or a friend, it's rarely easy.
Sometimes I am lucky and the perfect idea will come to me in time to find and acquire an item. More often, I am undecided about what I should choose. And here is where I run into problems around Christmas time. I want to find thoughtful gifts for people. And yet, I'm never sure if what I end up with is good, if it's ideal, if it's best, if it's right, if it's enough. Oh boy. Is it enough!?
I've concluded that I suffer from gift giving perfectionism, which as you could guess, is as debilitating as any other kind of perfectionism. I always worry that whatever I chose is not the best choice. Will they like it? Will they appreciate it? Will they think it's enough?
There we go with the enough stuff again.
Is it enough? Isn't it enough that I spent time thinking of what they'd like? But I always wonder. Is it enough that I found something to surprise them with? Is it enough that I spent time and money and energy on this project? Is it enough that I give them "only" this one special thing? Is it enough that I wrapped it up in anticipation of their unwrapping it? Because that is what I live for, after all; I love watching the unwrapping.
But too often, even after I decide on the one special thing, I'll worry or decide that it's not good enough, or not enough enough, and I'll buy an additional present. And at some point, I'll often find myself cruising through shops, snatching up more gifty items to "round out" my offerings. It's wearing. It's a wearisome panic.
The worst part is that worrying about my choices means that I sometimes put off those choices until it's very late in the game. Some birthday presents never get given because I panic over the right choice. I don't know why it's such an issue, especially since I've cultivated more of a go-ahead-and-make-a-choice attitude in other areas of my life.
Perhaps it's because there are so many choices. I usually rely on parameters to help me narrow down other decisions, but in the great wide open shopping days of November and December, there are few parameters to help me limit the options or ideals.
An artsy thing? Some wooden spoons? is that enough? Spoons AND a cool spatula. No. Not kitchen ware this year. How about a book? A shawl? Do they need a shawl? What about a pretty one? Maybe they'd rather a gift certificate? Oh hell, I'll get them some chocolate. Chocolate AND a gift certificate.
Oh, I enjoy creating a variety package, but this extra worry wears me out.
Maybe it's because there are a few people on my list who I worry will be critical of my choices. (Now, that's a big one. Are there a few people tainting the well of generosity?) Maybe it's because I can't come up with any good ideas. Or anything I can afford. Maybe it's because I'm placing too much on any one gift giving occasion. Maybe I'm worried it won't look good, whatever it is, as if I don't measure up to some ridiculous standard. Oo, I'm getting some ideas about where this is coming from now... Ooh, or do I feel cheated if they don't seem to like it enough for me? Now that's another angle to think about.
Maybe this year, I'll think about this and watch for clues and see where this worry is coming from.
Maybe I'll give myself a pass and say, Ya done good. You did enough. And I'll be happy, dammit. And they'll be happy too, dammit. And if they are not, it's too bad, dammit. :)
Time to wrap up this post; it's enough. ;)
--
I find it often very difficult to buy, or rather, choose, gifts. Whether it's for my husband or my sister or a friend, it's rarely easy.
Sometimes I am lucky and the perfect idea will come to me in time to find and acquire an item. More often, I am undecided about what I should choose. And here is where I run into problems around Christmas time. I want to find thoughtful gifts for people. And yet, I'm never sure if what I end up with is good, if it's ideal, if it's best, if it's right, if it's enough. Oh boy. Is it enough!?
I've concluded that I suffer from gift giving perfectionism, which as you could guess, is as debilitating as any other kind of perfectionism. I always worry that whatever I chose is not the best choice. Will they like it? Will they appreciate it? Will they think it's enough?
There we go with the enough stuff again.
Is it enough? Isn't it enough that I spent time thinking of what they'd like? But I always wonder. Is it enough that I found something to surprise them with? Is it enough that I spent time and money and energy on this project? Is it enough that I give them "only" this one special thing? Is it enough that I wrapped it up in anticipation of their unwrapping it? Because that is what I live for, after all; I love watching the unwrapping.
But too often, even after I decide on the one special thing, I'll worry or decide that it's not good enough, or not enough enough, and I'll buy an additional present. And at some point, I'll often find myself cruising through shops, snatching up more gifty items to "round out" my offerings. It's wearing. It's a wearisome panic.
The worst part is that worrying about my choices means that I sometimes put off those choices until it's very late in the game. Some birthday presents never get given because I panic over the right choice. I don't know why it's such an issue, especially since I've cultivated more of a go-ahead-and-make-a-choice attitude in other areas of my life.
Perhaps it's because there are so many choices. I usually rely on parameters to help me narrow down other decisions, but in the great wide open shopping days of November and December, there are few parameters to help me limit the options or ideals.
An artsy thing? Some wooden spoons? is that enough? Spoons AND a cool spatula. No. Not kitchen ware this year. How about a book? A shawl? Do they need a shawl? What about a pretty one? Maybe they'd rather a gift certificate? Oh hell, I'll get them some chocolate. Chocolate AND a gift certificate.
Oh, I enjoy creating a variety package, but this extra worry wears me out.
Maybe it's because there are a few people on my list who I worry will be critical of my choices. (Now, that's a big one. Are there a few people tainting the well of generosity?) Maybe it's because I can't come up with any good ideas. Or anything I can afford. Maybe it's because I'm placing too much on any one gift giving occasion. Maybe I'm worried it won't look good, whatever it is, as if I don't measure up to some ridiculous standard. Oo, I'm getting some ideas about where this is coming from now... Ooh, or do I feel cheated if they don't seem to like it enough for me? Now that's another angle to think about.
Maybe this year, I'll think about this and watch for clues and see where this worry is coming from.
Maybe I'll give myself a pass and say, Ya done good. You did enough. And I'll be happy, dammit. And they'll be happy too, dammit. And if they are not, it's too bad, dammit. :)
Time to wrap up this post; it's enough. ;)
--
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Shopping Conscience Says: Put That Back!
Oo, Sweet n Salty has another thoughtful quality-over-quantity The Good Grinch post up. Reminds me of when I recently escaped for a couple of hours of shopping at Micheal's, that craft store with more Than You Possibly Want.
I was looking for picture frames (on sale) for my in-law's recent family portrait. I was looking for attractive yet inexpensive cookie tins. I was looking for a stocking (also on sale) for the little girl because although I'd like to make one for her, It Ain't Gonna Happen This Year.
So then I got sucked into the shopping vortex and started finding stocking stuffers for various family members.
A bouncy ball that lights up and flashes when you squeeze it, good for my step-nephew. A crocodile that "grows" when you submerge it in water over night for somebody. Colorful, flower-shaped plastic bangles for my niece. A cheap wooden pattern tray my mom could use for playing with quilting patterns. Um, a Christmassy tin for somebody, and an extra frame for another family picture, and maybe frames for baby photos for the grandparents, and...
I was feeling some pressure because I hardly get any time to get anything done these days, and I have more plans than time. If I find something that works, I need to seize upon it. And the small cookie tins are my justification for sending cookies if indeed I am able to make cookies this year.
I flew past boxes of colorful ornaments, fake grapes, big box art kits, scrap booking supplies, paint-it-yourself molded plaster ornaments. But more stuff called to me. A scrapbook. Another stocking. A book of origami projects with included paper that my sister would just love, I'm sure of it!
Luckily, I ran across a couple of shoppers debating whether to get some tchotchke or other.
Oh, that's cuuute. one of them said.
Who are you getting it for? asked the other.
I don't know yet.
Well then why are getting it?! Why get it at all?
But look how cute it is.
Who are you getting it for? more insistently.
...And they repeated almost the exact same conversation a second time.
I giggled in recognition. It was like listening to a little devil and a little angel sitting on my shoulders while I was shopping. "Do you really need that?" "But it's cute!"
I also am tempted to buy things that would be perfect for "somebody" or "sometime." Sometimes it's hard to find exactly what I want. Sometimes it's hard to decide exactly what I want! Sometimes I grab at something as gift insurance in case I can't find anything better. Sometimes I get exasperated by my gift panic that induces impulse buys. I really appreciated reading Sweet n Salty's take on that.
I probably could use a "shopping conscience."
Who are you getting that for?
Do you really need that?
Put that back!
I convened by the stockings to reassess my basket. I kept the tins, the picture frames and my favorite stocking. I put back most of the rest, including the plastic, then went on my merry way to the cashiers. Quality over quantity. Oh, I wish it so.
Less plastic, more heart. I'm making mostly pizelles for Christmas this year. If the stars and schedules align.
--
I was looking for picture frames (on sale) for my in-law's recent family portrait. I was looking for attractive yet inexpensive cookie tins. I was looking for a stocking (also on sale) for the little girl because although I'd like to make one for her, It Ain't Gonna Happen This Year.
So then I got sucked into the shopping vortex and started finding stocking stuffers for various family members.
A bouncy ball that lights up and flashes when you squeeze it, good for my step-nephew. A crocodile that "grows" when you submerge it in water over night for somebody. Colorful, flower-shaped plastic bangles for my niece. A cheap wooden pattern tray my mom could use for playing with quilting patterns. Um, a Christmassy tin for somebody, and an extra frame for another family picture, and maybe frames for baby photos for the grandparents, and...
I was feeling some pressure because I hardly get any time to get anything done these days, and I have more plans than time. If I find something that works, I need to seize upon it. And the small cookie tins are my justification for sending cookies if indeed I am able to make cookies this year.
I flew past boxes of colorful ornaments, fake grapes, big box art kits, scrap booking supplies, paint-it-yourself molded plaster ornaments. But more stuff called to me. A scrapbook. Another stocking. A book of origami projects with included paper that my sister would just love, I'm sure of it!
Luckily, I ran across a couple of shoppers debating whether to get some tchotchke or other.
Oh, that's cuuute. one of them said.
Who are you getting it for? asked the other.
I don't know yet.
Well then why are getting it?! Why get it at all?
But look how cute it is.
Who are you getting it for? more insistently.
...And they repeated almost the exact same conversation a second time.
I giggled in recognition. It was like listening to a little devil and a little angel sitting on my shoulders while I was shopping. "Do you really need that?" "But it's cute!"
I also am tempted to buy things that would be perfect for "somebody" or "sometime." Sometimes it's hard to find exactly what I want. Sometimes it's hard to decide exactly what I want! Sometimes I grab at something as gift insurance in case I can't find anything better. Sometimes I get exasperated by my gift panic that induces impulse buys. I really appreciated reading Sweet n Salty's take on that.
I probably could use a "shopping conscience."
Who are you getting that for?
Do you really need that?
Put that back!
I convened by the stockings to reassess my basket. I kept the tins, the picture frames and my favorite stocking. I put back most of the rest, including the plastic, then went on my merry way to the cashiers. Quality over quantity. Oh, I wish it so.
Less plastic, more heart. I'm making mostly pizelles for Christmas this year. If the stars and schedules align.
--
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Kathryn Quotes
"Hell doesn't want you and heaven is full."
Who said that? It doesn't matter; it's an elegant expression, isn't it?
I used to work with someone named Kathryn. I still know her, and even run into her sometimes while out and about. She's an artist and a collector of quotes that she uses in her work. I'm always fascinated to search for the snippets of text that show up, and I often find myself writing down the quotes I see.
The quotes are often shards of poetry or song lyrics or artist philosophies. I see things from Mingus and Balthus.
Where are you now, Balthus, now that I need you?
let the music and the madness get to you/life ain't so bad at all (m jackson)
Very frequently, they are little notes to herself. I've seen her process, and the little notes wend their way in from the beginning. Even when she is brutally honest with herself, it all goes into the art.
I could have done a lot of things in my better days.
Do what's good for you or you're not good for anybody.
They are sometimes obscure, or vaguely profound, often both at once! I may not really understand them or agree with them, but I feel as though if I thought about it hard enough that I'd find some kernel of truth. And they are irresistible. They are neat little packages of phrase. I search them out like rare truffles at the base of trees. They are plaintive, defiant, joyous, thoughtful, encouraging, cadjoling, flavourful. Like poetry, they resonate just beyond the edge of meaning.
Once I started collecting quotes, I started finding others that fit into the same limbo. "Kathryn quotes" has become a shorthand for a certain kind of pithy, quirky quote.
There's no such thing as nothing, not at all. / It may be really very, very small / But it's still there. In fact I think I'd guess / That "no" does not exist. There's only "yes".
Do what you have to do so you can do what you want to do.
(This comes from Denzel Washington.)
Recently, I fund this one:
We are, all of us, storytellers. We choose what we hear, and see, and believe. In a void of answers we settle into a tale that best suits what we need. -Sweet&Salty
And what I need, apparently, is little dashes of poetic philosophy and humor to shake up my brain a little. What that says about me, I don't know.
What was it that Pierre Trudeau said? Oh yes: "I've been called worse things by better people." Surely that must make some sense.
life ain't so bad at all, at all
O man, learn to dance, or else the angels in heaven will not know what to do with you. - Saint Augustine
--
Who said that? It doesn't matter; it's an elegant expression, isn't it?
I used to work with someone named Kathryn. I still know her, and even run into her sometimes while out and about. She's an artist and a collector of quotes that she uses in her work. I'm always fascinated to search for the snippets of text that show up, and I often find myself writing down the quotes I see.
The quotes are often shards of poetry or song lyrics or artist philosophies. I see things from Mingus and Balthus.
Where are you now, Balthus, now that I need you?
let the music and the madness get to you/life ain't so bad at all (m jackson)
Very frequently, they are little notes to herself. I've seen her process, and the little notes wend their way in from the beginning. Even when she is brutally honest with herself, it all goes into the art.
I could have done a lot of things in my better days.
Do what's good for you or you're not good for anybody.
They are sometimes obscure, or vaguely profound, often both at once! I may not really understand them or agree with them, but I feel as though if I thought about it hard enough that I'd find some kernel of truth. And they are irresistible. They are neat little packages of phrase. I search them out like rare truffles at the base of trees. They are plaintive, defiant, joyous, thoughtful, encouraging, cadjoling, flavourful. Like poetry, they resonate just beyond the edge of meaning.
Once I started collecting quotes, I started finding others that fit into the same limbo. "Kathryn quotes" has become a shorthand for a certain kind of pithy, quirky quote.
There's no such thing as nothing, not at all. / It may be really very, very small / But it's still there. In fact I think I'd guess / That "no" does not exist. There's only "yes".
Do what you have to do so you can do what you want to do.
(This comes from Denzel Washington.)
Recently, I fund this one:
We are, all of us, storytellers. We choose what we hear, and see, and believe. In a void of answers we settle into a tale that best suits what we need. -Sweet&Salty
And what I need, apparently, is little dashes of poetic philosophy and humor to shake up my brain a little. What that says about me, I don't know.
What was it that Pierre Trudeau said? Oh yes: "I've been called worse things by better people." Surely that must make some sense.
life ain't so bad at all, at all
O man, learn to dance, or else the angels in heaven will not know what to do with you. - Saint Augustine
--
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