Glorious

Our first three morning glory blossoms popped open this week.

Before long, our entire back fence will be covered in them. I hope I'm here to see them.

Looks like we might be moving to a single level house closer to Jodie this year.

Part of me thinks it's a grand idea. Part of me wants to stay here.

A Little Late, but Still Happy

Last month, life got in the way of celebrations
My Julie turned 29 years old
She received a phone call with birthday songs and wishes
Then attention returned elsewhere

Today, Dale and I took a vacation day
Top down on the convertible
Elton John on the air waves
Down to Moscow we flew
For THIS girl

Julie's 1st Birthday

Happy 29th, Julie!
We love you dearly!

Self Portrait

Nearing the End of a Journey

I've not been blogging because I've been on a solo trip. From north Idaho, east through Montana and south through Wyoming and Colorado to Denver where I helped my daughter and son-in-law pack and clean. They made it to their new home in Las Vegas, Nevada today.

In the mean time, I drove through southern Wyoming and across the lower part of Idaho. I've lived here since 1980 and had never seen that part of the state!

I got to visit a cross-stitch shop along the way and got some nice new stash. Hope to share that here on my blog before too long.

Then I had a fabulous evening with the parents of a dear childhood friend. I hadn't seen them in about 25 years!

This morning I had the chance to practice being assertive with hotel staff. I received an excellent result for stepping up and speaking up.

Today was a long day of driving through Boise, then north on the winding and narrow highways up through my beloved Idaho. I took many a photo along the way. I hope to share some of them, too.

Tonight I have an evening in Lewiston -- the town where I graduated from college. I had dinner with an old friend. Afterwards, he took me on a short driving tour of the town, showing me some changes. It's been a long time. Long time.

So as I sat here before my computer, up far, far too late, catching up with my buddies on Facebook, I glanced up and liked the reflection I saw in the mirror above the desk. I recognized something in my face -- reflection, introspection, a certain peace knowing this solo journey has been successful. Sure, there were bobbles along the way. But as the wisest man I know says, "Mid Course Corrections."

I made those. I did it. I am capable.

Time to grab my camera once more. Time to catch this instant in time when I felt a bit of the courage and confidence that resides within.

Like Polo and Lindbergh

I doubt my name will go down in the annals of history like Marco Polo or Charles Lindbergh. I am not one to do great things in the eyes of the world. I so admire those that take the risks and go against the grain, then accomplish great things.

So instead, I blog. My tenuous steps into bravery come in revealing little bits of myself through my writing, burp out my philosophy of life and my questions about my own existence a morsel at a time.

When I began this blog, I didn't know I'd share of myself this way. I thought I'd just show of what I do, not who I am.

But is it possible to do one without the other? Hmmm. Not inside this skin.

Putting fingers to keyboard every day, showing my needlework, my photos ... even my cooking triumphs ... is my own way of crawling down the cliff, holding on to scrub branches and rocks as I scrape my way down.

I wonder ... what would it be like to jump and fly and figure it out as I go? That sounds like "Plan B" on steroids. It sounds much less controlled than where my comfort zone snoozes.

I do like that image, though. Jumping off the edge of the cliff and building wings on the way down. Is it bravery? Or foolhardy? Is it exploration? Or a near-death experience?

Either way, there'd be a lot of endorphins available to flood my brain.

That alone makes it enticing.

Stalwart Pair

Anniversary Stones: 24th Tanzanite

Feeling Scholarly

The hospital where my friend had her surgery is directly across the street from the Yale campus in New Haven. A couple days before the procedure, we made a dry run from central Connecticut down to the hospital so we could get our bearings.

Once we felt comfortable with that trek, we started exploring. We drove all over the Yale campus. Got lost a couple times (more Plan B activities). Enjoyed the wonderful architecture. Marveled at the halls of learning and history that we were wandering through.

We stopped and took a quick tour of the Peabody Museum of natural history, enjoying the bugs, crystals, Indian artifacts, birds and dinosaur bones. Then we headed over to the Yale Bookstore where we had a good time picking out souvenirs for my family.

Spending this kind of time together before the surgery was fun and energizing. Dreaming of actually being a student at Yale was pretty awesome, too. Yale is a far cry from Lewis-Clark State College where my friend and I met!

I've got to talk my youngest daughter into at least touring the Yale campus before deciding where she wants to go to college, yes?

Coming of Age

There are times when I can really relate to my two older daughters. It wasn't so long ago when they were getting ready to move out of the house. In many ways, they'd do really smart things ... like get their own car insurance and make their own doctor appointments. Figure out healthy things to eat and buy real dishes, pots and pans. Learn to ask adults other than only their parents for advice, seek them as mentors.

And in the next minute, they'd drive me crazy with their childish behavior. Like living in a room so messy that you couldn't walk from the door to the bed without tripping over clothes, shoes and books. Or like putting on a pouty face and whining about some little easy-to-do-and-won't-even-take-15-minute-task like cleaning the bathroom and mopping the floor.

They wanted to be grown up. Wanted to be seen as the young adults they were. Wanted the privileges that adulthood provides. At the same time, they were scared of what becoming an adult implies. Like trusting their own judgments. Like not having Mom and Dad to lean on. Like not getting to act like a child.

There are times when I feel stuck in the exact same place. For example, what is it about me and cell phones? Why am I so darn resistant to just learning to USE the things, even if I don't want to own one? Or ... traveling alone. Why do I make such a big deal about it? I always feel like I want someone to hold my hand as I walk through the process instead of just jumping in and trying it. You know. Being an adult about it.

I feel stuck between wanting to be the healthy, wealthy and wise mature woman ... and the adolescent girl not quite ready to take on grown-up choices and responsibilities.

The weird thing is, I am incredibly responsible. Have been for a long, long time. I take responsibility for outcomes that I'm not even responsible for. Or the actions of people that I'm not responsible for. Methinks this is skewed.

For me, perhaps what I can own is more of an emotional immaturity. Or ... that bit where I just don't quite believe in my own abilities. My ability to cope. To know what to do in sticky situations. That bit of me that doesn't quite believe I have the internal fortitude to figure situations out as they unfold, when they deviate from Plan A.

So we come back again to Plan B. Learning to go with the flow.
:: sigh ::
I surely do struggle with these life lessons.

:: snort ::
For example, look at this blog post! How much more adolescent angst can I write?!

:: heavy sigh ::
So on I trod. Considering. Trying stuff. Learning.
Scratching my way into maturity.

All the while, keeping a fun-loving nature.

'Tis a test.

See Order Within

Wow. It this good advice for me today!

The weird head space I was in yesterday morning didn't get any better as the day wore on. As I was headed into Coeur d'Alene to pick Jodie and her friend up from driving school, it dawned on me why I felt so out of sorts.

A storm was blowing in.

Low pressure systems have an evil effect on me every time. Usually, once I realize that's the cause, I handle the weird feelings better. That worked ... for a time.

But I had to do a major Plan B yesterday. Because of the storm ... that turned into a downpour when we got home ... there was not enough good natural light for our photo shoot. It's been postponed. Rats.

I gave up on the day before eating dinner. Peeled off my outside clothes and wrapped up in my robe. Finished knitting one adult hat (that's me, modeling it), then started a child hat.

Planted myself in front of the TV (tivo) and watched The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Ebert & Roper, and two episodes of Design Star.


By that time, I'd finished the smaller hat (that's my water bottle, modeling it). Went to bed.

Because as Scarlett O'Hara would say ... "Tomorrow is another day!"

Had a fitful night. Argh!

So as Anne Shirley said, "Today is a new day ... with no mistakes in it yet."

So ... Off to Quilters I go to renew my spirit in the company of my 'old hag' friends. Perhaps while I'm at the church, I'll take a moment to go up to the sanctuary, light a candle, and follow the advice in Today's Phrase:

Pause for introspection;
Seek order within

Wait with Your Eyes Open

I'm currently trying to re-program my brain by feeding it new thoughts and affirmations on a daily basis. I've written a bunch of them down, then recorded my own voice saying them. I have this recording on CD and on my mp3 player. It's one the techniques my counselor and I are using to help me get to a new level of understanding.

Some of these thoughts and affirmations have already found their way into my blog. The above phrase reminds me of another:

I practice watchful waiting.
I pay attention, and listen.

If I watch, wait, pay attention, listen ... I hope to have my next step(s) revealed to me. This spiritual and creative journey that I'm on encourages me to not look too far down the road. But to go with the flow.

I guess that's all part of Plan B, right?

Day Finis: Moving On

I added this new photograph to Creative Journey

in my Photography section, Change of Seasons

So ends my Creative Journey
This first day of summer, 2008

I stayed up late last night
Stood alone on a back road out by the lumber mill
Camera mounted to a monopod

My meditation music wafted from the car's CD player
And I waited
Waited
Waited and pondered
Waited for the full moon to crest the hill south of the river

I watched it rise
Along with my Spirit
Along with my inner churning

Feeling the newness
And the loss
And the steps forward of these last two years

Today
My Creative Journey ends
And Plan B begins

Time to step forward
Into the Change of Season

On to Plan B

For the last two years, I've taken some time to explore my creative drives more deeply. When I began my Creative Journey, I thought that I would be trying out various art and craft ideas, learning a bunch of needlework finishing techniques, reading a ton of books. Lose some weight. All of this was to be in an attempt to figure out what I was to do with myself in my life chapter as a middle-aged woman.

Would I begin a new career? Would I go back to school for a Master's degree? Now that my family is mostly raised, would I devote more of my time to volunteer work or artistic pursuits?

Well. I did a bit of those things. At least, I asked the questions. But even on sabbatical, life gets in the way. I didn't know I'd be facing a health problem or that my emotions would be taken for a wild roller coaster ride. I didn't anticipate landing back in counseling to work through more inner 'junque'.

I did stitch some more. I found out how much I love being part of two groups of women who create quilts for people in crisis. I learned just how much that makes my heart grow.

I managed to try a few new needlework finishing techniques. But I found out I was even better at pointing my finishing group to other tutorials online than I was at creating a new tutorial each month (my original goal).

I even managed to lose 35 pounds so far!

I still have not made a basket, though I still have the kit. I still have not made polymer clay beads or buttons, though the clay sits on my shelf. I still have not stenciled the lower porch so that it looks like cobblestone, though I can see the supplies resting on the shelf to my right of my desk. I still have not taught my youngest daughter to sew, though a dress sits half made hiding someplace here in my studio. I still have not done a major update on my Stitcher's Studio, though I've been very consistent with posting to my blog.

I still have a huge pile of books to read. I think the pile got bigger, even though I did manage to read a fair number and to write book reviews for them. I love reading. I learned I don't allow myself the quiet time to do it. My husband and I are once again trying to maintain the discipline to read every Tuesday and Thursday evening.

I have not discovered my next career move, either. That's a bit disappointing. But I do have a kernel of an idea of what that career might be.

My biggest discovery in these last two years was in photography. I learned that even if you don't really know what you're doing when you start, if you just keep at it, you can learn some stuff along the way. I'm better at framing images now. I know a bit more about lighting. I can even use my image software more adeptly. But mostly, I learned that I love to photograph life's little details. Macro photography stirs my heart. I'll keep at that. Learn some more.

The other important discovery is that I'm really not great at going with the flow. I tend to be more Type A. I like my lists. I like crossing things off them. I like having a plan and sticking to it. And I get rather anxious when those plans get changed without my consent.

So as I close out my Creative Journey today, I'll move on to my next phase. I'm going to call it "Plan B."

What is Plan B? I guess you might call it planned obsolescence. Or ... PLANNING to go with the flow. I'm sure I'll still have my lists ... that's extremely ingrained in me. But I will leave some blank lines on my list on purpose. I'll leave room to scratch out the plans that don't work and go with an alternate one that does. One that leaves more room for Spirit to flow through. One that leaves more flexibility for my family.

In other words, I'm planning to make plans and allow them to change! (I'd say welcome them to change, but hey ... I'm Margaret ... that ain't gonna happen.) So in Plan B, I can fool myself into believing that a change in plans is part of the plan.

Such convoluted thinking, eh? Yet ... it just might work for me.

Thanks to those of you that have followed me on this Creative Journey of mine and become a part of it. If you'd like to walk with me in Plan B, I'd love to continue to have your company.