2013--A New Year and New {re}Beginning

I feel rushed this year.  The holiday season has been busy and full and wonderful and fun and busy.  Busy.  I have loved every moment of it, but am looking forward to getting back into our normal grove.  Back to work, back to school, back to evening filled with here and there and not a moments rest.  I'm well rested.  Too rested.  My creative brain seems to work better on the brink of exhaustion.  I feel better.  My senses more alert.  My mind seems quieter and stiller.  Or maybe that is just what I tell myself.  To get by.  It works.  I get by.

I'm so excited to share my word.  I think it is a far different word than I have used in the past and I hope the results and the connections click and things fall into place with out too much of a hitch.  I love all my words really.  They have become my friends over the years. Some staying in the strong for front and others softly slipping behinds the sceens waiting for their role to be needed.  I love my words.  I love words.  I love.

In honor of keeping this tradition going for FIVE years.  I wanted to find the perfect word.  That was a challenge because, in essence, all words are perfect.  I want a word that celebrates the best of me.  A word that repairs and heals and moves me forward while reflecting in glory and beauty.  Strong lines of Art Deco, soft and gentle flow of the Victorian era, simplicity of lean years, oddness of the 80's, cleanest of Frank Lloyd Write, sturdy.  The reveal:  My word for 2013 is RENOVATE: 

ren·o·vate

transitive verb \ˈre-nə-ˌvāt\ ren·o·vat·edren·o·vat·ing

1: to restore to a former better state (as by cleaning, repairing, or rebuilding)

2: to restore to life, vigor, or activity.

I'm so excited to get to work.  I want to bring back the best of myself while living in the today.  With love, care and time, I can get the job done.  I know that renovations always seem to take longer than planned.  I'm in no hurry, but I look forward to the revile. 

In health, love and renovation--To a Beautiful 2013.

A quick{ish} Review

This year marks the 5 year anniversary of my Word.  It all started with a word that was pinging around in my brain and bust into action after reading a blog a friend had posted.  When I checked the original source link, I found that the page no longer exists.  Bummer.  With some further sleuthing, I found that the source has just moved  and become bigger than just one small word (you can even pursue your word in class form) Read all about it here:  http://www.bigpictureclasses.com/onelittleword2013.php


My first word choice was Wassail: (wŏs'əl, wŏ-sāl') n. 1) A salutation or toast given in drinking some one's health or as an expression of goodwill at a festivity. 2) The drink used in such toasting, commonly ale or wine spiced with roasted apples and sugar. 3) A festivity characterized by much drinking.v., -sailed, -sail·ing, -sails.v.tr. To drink to the health of; toast.
v.intr. To engage in or drink a wassail.
[Middle English, contraction of wæshæil, be healthy, from Old Norse ves heill : ves, imperative sing. of vera, to be + heill, healthy.]

I did not spend the year drunk--I used the word as a motivator to celebrate life.  To enjoy.  To live.  In heath and festivity.  I still love this word.


Year two was the year of Possibility :  (ps-bl-t) n. pl. pos·si·bil·i·ties 1. The fact or state of being possible. 2. Something that is possible. 3. possibilities Potentiality for favorable or interesting results.
This was a lesson in learning how big one small word can be.  It was a year when the possibility of anything could (positive or negative) could happen.  What a growing year it turned into.


Simple:  /ˈsɪmpəl/ [sim-puhl] Show IPA
adjective, -pler, -plest, noun
–adjective
1. easy to understand, deal with, use, etc.: a simple matter; simple tools.
2. not elaborate or artificial; plain: a simple style.
3. not ornate or luxurious; unadorned: a simple gown.
4. unaffected; unassuming; modest: a simple manner.
5. not complicated: a simple design.
6. not complex or compound; single.
7. occurring or considered alone; mere; bare: the simple truth; a simple fact.
8. free of deceit or guile; sincere; unconditional: a frank, simple answer.
9. common or ordinary: a simple soldier.
10. not grand or sophisticated; unpretentious: a simple way of life.
11. humble or lowly: simple folk.
12. inconsequential or rudimentary.
13. unlearned; ignorant.
14. lacking mental acuteness or sense: a simple way of thinking.
15. unsophisticated; naive; credulous.
16. simpleminded.
17. Chemistry .
a. composed of only one substance or element: a simple substance.
b. not mixed.
18. Botany . not divided into parts: a simple leaf; a simple stem.
19. Zoology . not compound: a simple ascidian.
20. Music . uncompounded or without overtones; single: simple tone.
21. Grammar . having only the head without modifying elements included: The simple subject of “The dappled pony gazed over the fence” is “pony.” Compare complete ( def. 5 ) .
22. (of a verb tense) consisting of a main verb with no auxiliaries, as takes (simple present) or stood (simple past) ( opposed to compound).
23. Mathematics . linear ( def. 7 ) .
24. Optics . (of a lens) having two optical surfaces only.
–noun
25. an ignorant, foolish, or gullible person.
26. something simple, unmixed, or uncompounded.
27. simples, Textiles . cords for controlling the warp threads in forming the shed on draw-looms.
28. a person of humble origins; commoner.
29. an herb or other plant used for medicinal purposes: country simples.

After a year of possibilities, simple was all I wanted.  For the most part, I think I nailed at least one aspect of the word. 

The word for 2012 was Present: pres·ent  /ˈprɛzənt/ adjective
1. being, existing, or occurring at this time or now; current

For me, being present is a challenge.  I am always thinking ahead for what is the next this or that and have a hard time being still.  I will continue to work at this.  I'm sure by the time I am a grandparent many many many many years from now--I will have mastered Present.

So a very short review drawn out long to build anticipation for the New Year and a New Word.  My word for 2013 is:  (wait for it)  . . .

Table for two

I am having a day with my girl.  I love her--whole heart kind of love.  When I draw her into my arms I can smell that wild earthy scent that belongs only her and feel a warmth that runs through me like hot coco on a cold autumn morning.  Those moments melt me. 

Holding onto those moments must be what gets me through the power struggles, temper tantrums, and times of defeat.  My petite fleur is a strong willed, intense, singled minded, determined, passionate, free spirited being.  Creative.  Dramatic.  Talented.  She makes me question my parenting ability, worry about my blood pressure, and tests my patients daily.  There are days that I have to take deep breaths, a lot, in order to prepare myself for anything she throws my way. 

She is a lot like me.  My brother reminds me of this often, with laughter.  She is.  A lot.  Like me.  Today, we are feeding each others souls and feeding them well.  As the Indigo Girls station on Pandora sings to our spirts the glitter glue flows freely and her mood is light and airy.  We are having the best day ever.  I entered this day with the only expectation of being with her and letting her do.  I forget that her soul needs to be feed well, too.  The busy pace is not good for either of us.  Messy stickiness is our drug.  Being allowed to create is what fits us best.  Someday, we will not struggle against each other, but balance and complement.  This day together is bring us closer.

A need to write

When I was younger I kept a diary.  It wasn't an everyday thing and most of my entries were about so and so and this and that and so on and so forth.  When I have gone back and looked through my written memories, I noticed that my longest ones were when I needed to express my feelings (normally frustration).  At some point, I gave up the written record of my personal thoughts and reflections.  I'm not sure why--life gets in the way sort of thing, I imagine. 

I love writing, always have.  I remember sitting on the steps of my parents house with notebook and pencil in hand and trying to come up with wonderful stories--asking my parents how to spell this word and trying to find a different word for another word (how wonderful a computer truly is).  I have stacks of those notebooks that I to this day can not part with (I really should try to type up those stories--for laughter's sake if nothing else.) 

Even though I am terrible at spelling and make up the rules and words and all kinds of things that would make all the Mrs. & Mr.'s of my education cringe, I write on.  In my writing mind, I forget it all and just let the words rush (or trickle) from my brain to finger tips.  Sometimes I am please with the quick result, other times I have to work and fuss and tweak before I am seeing perfection.  Perfection.  That is the things that always seems to stand in my way.  I envy people who can just do something and be satisfied with their first result.  Me, I have to work and work and work until the words don't always match the story that I see.  Sometime I should just "publish" my raw materials and throw perfection to the wind--my stomach is balling up in knots a little just saying that, that must mean I need to push myself to try--I'll at least spell check before hitting the big orange publish button.  (where did all that come from)

The beauty of writing from my mind is I get it out.  I have been feeling pent up lately--and maybe it's because I carry all these thoughts around and never getting them out.  So why not share them here with others so that my thoughts are just not mine alone (don't worry I wont punish you with all my thoughts)  Because I need to write and blogging can be food for my soul.

BTW--this is mostly a raw writing.  Mostly.

Feeding my Soul

Squash, black beans, onions and bell peppers--this is soul feeding food for me

                           
I'm a care giver, by profession, as mother and wife, as a friend and every person in between.  Somewhere in the shuffle of feeding, lending a helping hand, transporting, and loving, I forget to do one very important thing:  Take care of me.  I don't make time to do things that feed my body, mind & soul.

 I'm not sure if I do this because there just never seems to be enough (time, energy, care) after giving to other or if it's because I'm better at giving than receiving?  It could have something to do with the fact that I feel selfish putting my needs before the needs of other, no matter how many times my husband tells me "If you don't take care you, who will take care of us?"  I just feel guilty when I make myself the priority.  I need to get over that.  Now!

So now I need to figure out what I need in order to feed myself well.  I'm not just talking food here.  In order to be alive, awake, alert & enthusiastic what elements are required?  What is the magic potion that will put a spring back into my step, the shine in my hair and song to my laughter?.  How will I create more hours in my already busy day? 

It is time to ask the hard questions,  what brings me joy?  what do I love?  what do I need? Do I find joy in the smiles of those I love or is it found when I feel their arms wrapped around me.  Is it feeling nature kiss my cheeks as I move my body to the beat of my heartsong or is it having dirt covered toes that I love?  Do I need to be challenging myself and eating foods that speak to me in a sound that only I can hear when I'm really in tune with my true self? 

The hardest part is providing myself these joy makers, passion filled need.  Will I be more present to notice and feel the love that brings me joy.  Will I make the time to spend with nature and bury my toes in deep so I can hear my heartsong?  What will I do to challenge myself?  What food speak to me in a healthful way?  Who is up for this challenge?  Me?.

My Dad

Here are some memories of the man I grew up with.  I called him Dad.

There is a man who lives in my memory wearing long sleeves and long pants in the sweltering heat of Wisconsin summer just so he can pick blackcaps before the bear get a chance.  He stows his bounty in a little coffee can holder he fashioned himself.  He returns home and makes a blackcap something (was it sauce? jam? syrup?) to put up and store on metal shelves in the basement.  He's a man who's known for growing plump ripe tomatoes and bushes of beans.  He's been on wild gooseberry chases and the occasional 'cooned corn adventure.

This man can make something from nothing better than anyone I know.  He uses scraps of this and bits of that to make wood stoves, rope makers, snowshoes, Christmas mantels and ice fishing houses.   He views objects differently than the rest of the world.  Dreaming up plans and making them reality.  He has been green long before green became the new black. Perhaps growing up in a logging family with 6 boys and 6 girls forces a man to be resourceful.  Necessity is the mother of invention. 

Rolling a sleeping bag tight and a tent tighter--it will fit in its bag if you do it right-- climbing hills with a pack on my back just for fun, making foil meals (cooked both indoors and out) and loving the feel of earth as my pillow are skills that he passed down to me.  He also taught me to be loyal and proud and honest, and trustworthy and reverent.  He did not teach me how to read a compass.

Standing up for myself.  Believing in myself.  Honoring myself.  Love.  Dedication.  Doing onto others as I would have them do onto me.  Helping when someone is in need.  No strings attached.  These were things I learned from watching this man.

He has hands of steal, a voice like thunder,  and a heart of soft flannel.  He wears black socks with old cut-offs, has salt-n-pepper hair (hold the pepper) and laughter in his eyes.  Calm.  Brave.  Stern.  A survivor with chicken cooking on the grill. 

Cutting wood in the summer time to keep us in shorts during the winter months. Hand split logs pushed down a self built wood shoot.   Stacked nice and tight.  The sound of metal on metal as one more log is added for the night.
A comedian, laughing so hard  at his own jokes that you have no idea what he is talking about.  A teller of anecdote about the one that got away, snipe hunts, of fish that were this big and snapping turtle soup.  Tales of men with names like Spoon,  and Ol' Grandpa and many other names I can not recall.  Changes in volume and tone always present to illustrate different characters.  Gestures bringing the story to life.   A performer.  A dancer in his own mind--generously passing sly moves down to one of his offspring's offspring (thank goodness the girl gets her dance skills from me).

Fetcher of  salty french fries and raspberry shakes when I have a scratchy throat.  Fixer of car mirrors when the garage decides to take them off.  Oil changer.  Gas can getter.  Protector.  Kisses and hugs good night.
Grease stained fingernails.  The smell of car parts.  A black plastic comb in his pocket for combing hair forward after taking off his hard had.  Green work shirts and pants.  Black metal hing topped lunch box with salt and pepper shaker for hard boiled eggs. The ever present scent of sandwich cookies. Leaving in a little car, a red truck with a white stripe, a little yellow truck returning all covered in saw dust.

There are so many more memories that I earned while growing up in the presence of this man.  I can never thank him enough for giving me a strong foundation to grow on.  I can never thank him enough for being instrumental in helping me become who I am today.  I'm hoping that a simple "Thanks Dad" says enough.

Dedicated to Roger Gene Larson

Let's make some more memories, Dad.



Time-Out

Taking time for myself is something I cherish.  I try to be good at it.  I know that if I don't do selfish little acts then my energy level is not there for everyone else who needs me.  Sometimes I forget.  I don't hide myself away well enough and other demands take my attention away from the time I need to recharge.  When I don't give myself this devoted me time, I start to feel out of control and off balance.  I whine.  I cry.  I feel tired and no good.  I should really put myself in a time-out when this happens.

I think we all could benefit from Time-Outs. Grown-up Style.  I'm not talking about getting all liqueured up and crazy (although sometimes that is a nice time out too)  I just mean doing those things that are just for us.  Whether it be reading, running, baking, brewing, gardening, cleaning (some people actually enjoy this???) or any other "ing" you enjoy doing.  It doesn't have to be long.  Just time that you spend on you for you and you alone.  Not for the benefit of anyone else. 

Sometimes I trick myself into thinking that I'm making time for myself when I'm doing something for others.  I enjoy the process of certain activites so it doesn't feel like I'm doing a chore I dislike, but I do not get the same feeling as when I carve out time that is just for Stace.

Spending time with friends and family(anything away from my daily grind) is recharging and I enjoy that very much--but I'm the type of person who needs to just shut down and not be needed.  I am working on not feeling guilty for hiding away and doing my "ing".  Maybe a time-out is needed right now. 

Do any of you others feel like you should be in a time-out too?  Have you been doing to much for others and you can not figure out why you just feel a little off.  It's time to take care of you.