Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Many wait for and expect natural manifestation of their dreams without putting work, responsibility and effort into that dream. We must wholly invest ourselves – spirit, soul and body – into the dreams that He puts in our hearts. It is not enough to dream, get a revelation and vision. Get it, then just do it.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Honey Baked Chicken.
Baked Carrots (Salt & Peppered).
Fresh Baked Bread.
We've decided to start a cooking vlog. That's right, teaching the younger generation that chickens don't just walk out of the oven (creative credit goes to Meg for that line), or at least entertaining the older generations... either way, we see a lot of promise in vlogging our future culinary exploits. Stay tuned.
Friday, February 25, 2011
WHOM SHALL I FEAR?
What outcome or choice ought to worry me? What future dismay me? What possibilities or unknowns dishearten me? What unestablished dream (or nightmare) shake the foundation of my hope?
Indeed, what have I to fear? Or whom? When all that is to come, must come by His hand.
What troubles my heart, when He is love, and LOVE NEVER FAILS?
Yes, Yet will I put my trust in Him, my Rock, my Hope, and my Salvation.
For waters come, but they are Him, not waters of despair.
Remember heart, I stand on a Rock, and the rivers that rage will only drive away that which is not fitted in His frame.
I just want to write me to you.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I love them.
How they lead from one space to another, negotiating not just space, but elevations. They are beautiful and complex. Stable. Yet often appear to be unsupported. They are visually stunning. Spirals. Curves. Angles.
(PS, I also love the use of black in this design.)
I have a list of "promises to myself" that I made back in MCs, and shortly thereafter. (I've mentioned these before recently, I know.) One of them is to design my own cabin. I think I'd love to design my own home someday too. But first, I'd like to buy an old home and turn it into something beautiful of my own. Find what is unique about it, listen to its stories from years past and families moved away, and highlight those things. I love combining the old with the new... the rugged with the fragile, the industrial with the petite. I love old brick walls, and even older wood floors. I love big beams, of either wood or steal. I love deep soft leather couches. I love fire places-- any and all. I love flower boxes. And gardens - though I hate spiders soo... my mom will have to help with this part. I love big open kitchens, and lots of (big) windows! I love old doors, that are made of real strong wood! I love knowing that what I am building, wasn't just built by me, but has its foundation in something much older. I love knowing that I'm just writing my piece of the story that someone else started long ago. I don't want to be the whole story, and I don't want to be its beginning. I want to come in somewhere near the crisis or the climax and see it all turned around. Or even, just be one of the sweet sentences that you pause after and maybe re-read aloud, even jot down sometime, hoping it seeps into your subconscious and plants a little seed of beauty in your mind.
Yes, I know this is something I got from my mom- while we have very different styles. ;) I love creating, but I almost prefer an old wood crate to a new clean canvas to start with.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Sunday, after going to my Godfather's church and hearing him preach for the first time (okay, that's a bit untrue- I've heard him preach, belive me you, but never in a service, normally it's just him talking to my dad, or me, or the whole fam), having a quick lunch with him, my Aunt Bev (my godmother), and my dad, and then jotting down the road to the airport to pick up Joel... I took my 35 mm camera out.
I caught a couple beautiful shots of Lake Sammamish on our way back, but the real treasures are going to be the ones I took of Brade, Joel and Elsa right at dusk. The day was freezing, but beautiful. The sun was just saying its farewells before it set. And my new, old camera was in my hands.
There are few sounds better than a roll of film loading. :) We took a roll, and I cannot wait to see them! That is one of the best parts of film (one of many)- you don't get the immediate option of looking (and deleting). No, you have to wait. Turn in your hidden treasure in a tiny black plastic 'jar' and wait for someone else to play their part and return it to you. You don't know what you'll find as you open the envelope. You may be disappointed, you may be completely surprised. And you all know, I love surprises!
Not to mention the quality of the shots, the feel of the camera in your hand, the sound of the shutter opening and closing, the film advancing. The next morning, I packed my good 'ol Minolta into my back pack and headed up to Rattlesnake Point with Rose. It added an extra weight and I debated whether or not to take it in the end. I was so glad I did! At the top, Rose and I captured a few shots each, and got a fellow hiker to take one too (who marvelled at my 35mm, and I'd like to believe might be purchasing one himself. He had a very nice Nikon digital around his neck, but was verbally enchanted by the sound of the film himself ;)
Anyways- another little delightful detail to this lovely past weekend.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That, whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimmed and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end!
And now at once, adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.
(One of my favorite poems, by one of my favorite poets. Since the days of reports and presentations, and book assignments... long before Bright Star turned him into a trend! :P )
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A year later, she decided to become a Keith too.
So glad she did. I love and miss this guy-- one of the few who can make me laugh until I can't breath... usually he stops breathing shortly after, or at least starts to sound like a girl.
He inspires awe and laughter in all who meet him.
I've been fighting my mac to let me upload my photos from Friday night for days now. And as soon as it bends, I'll blog about that night. In the meantime, I'm skipping to Monday.
Rose and I went on a sunrise hike at Rattlesnake Point. We met at 5:15am and headed off toward Issaquah under the star-lit sky. When we arrived at the park, it suddenly struck us, we were about to climb into the woods, in the pitch dark. As we stalled a bit (putting together our newly purchased headlamps), the sky lit up ever so slightly and our courage had grown a great deal more.
The sky in Kenmore and Kirkland had been full of stars, making us hope for a great sunrise, but as we got closer to where we'd be hiking, the clouds thickened. We decided to not worry too much about catching the actual sunrise, as it didn't promise much.
But the actual view from the top was magnificent! We stopped and ate out packed snacks, drank a little coffee, took some photos, read a poem... and headed back down.
We finished off our morning with breakfast at a little diner. And drove back home.
I spent the rest of my day in bed. Turned out a morning hike wasn't the best thing for a cold. Oh well. It was worth it. I napped, knitted, drank tea and watched Beauty and the Beast. :) It was a good 'sick day' and restful end to an eventful long weekend.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
I woke up in the middle of the night with these words in my head.. I felt like I'd just said them out loud almost. Or heard them said to me out loud. It was very strange, and I repeated it to myself several times in my head before going back to sleep (I didn't want to forget). I considered getting up to write them down, but I was at Elise and Jeff's and Meg and Elsa were right next to me, and I figured searching for my purse, and the notebook in it, would wake everyone up. So, I just went back to sleep. Now I'm not entirely sure this is the exact phrasing, but it is very close at the least:
When you lose what is closest to your heart, something else will grow in its place.
Friday, February 18, 2011
It's easy for us to begin to turn our "Lists" into a description of the perfect man. All our favorite pieces of all our favorite men in our lives... many of whom are in their 30s, 40s, 50s or 60s and hardly resembled themselves in their mid-20s. What is it fair to desire in a man- and what is it fair to require in a man who's interested in me?
I've been remarkably blessed by a lot of the guys in my life... and I continue to realize just how much. Most of the guys I've grown up with are excellent communicators. In fact, a few weeks ago I had a big revelation. I owe a lot of my communication skills to Tyson. I've always been a talker- but I'm not good at saying what needs to be said (especially verbally). It's hard for me to tell a person what exactly is going on inside.. or at least it used to be. Tyson is an excellent communicator, and I can recall a number of times when heated conversations could have easily been abandoned, and would have been had it been up to me. But he'd make me stay until we worked it out. And because we see everything so differently, it forced us both to become better communicators, learning how to listen and how to explain ourselves and thoughts. Do I need a man who is a good communicator? Eventually, I will need my husband to learn the skill- but how good must he be at it from the start (our start)? It's something I'd like for him to be good at. Or at least devoted to trying to communicate with me and open up. I'm good at pulling information out of people, and reading what's not said, but do I want to have to do that with the man I'll someday build my life with?
Another example, responsibility. Like practical responsibility. As in, being able to make plans, and communicate the plans, and act on the plans... I can see a lot of thos ein their early to mid 20s are pretty bad at this. It's chalked off as adventurous, or easy-going... both great qualities. But learn how to be clear... and don't leave everyone around just dangling off your whims and ill-planning. So, how great at this does my husband need to be?
There's many qualities I've been considering, and not just for me, but for my single friends too... what do they really need? Many of us have been spoiled in our friendships. And I don't expect my husband to be perfect, by any means... I guess for me it comes down to being able to be confident in him, knowing he's committed to growth, forever. And he's committed to me, and us.
How you see that from the start, I'm not exactly sure.
I have my list of qualities I like, but lately, I'm thinking more about what I actually need... as I see more and more what I'm just not. I'm excited to see what the Lord is up to someday.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
In a few weeks, I'll be in Whistler with my dear friend Ryn, snowboarding, reading, hot tubbing, and cooking. :) After that, hiking season will begin, and my hiking boots will come out from their winter cave (the tub under my bed full of my gear- I can't wait to have a garage someday for it all!!). Summer weather will lend itself to longboarding dates with the sis at Greenlake, and beach time, and 'deck time' at the house. I cannot wait for Spring!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Yesterday and today, two different interactions have left me with the strangest struggle... to not be affected by other's wishes that I were more like someone else. Or just being plain that they like me less.
Rejection goes down hard, but I know it's a pill that if swallowed, brings true humility and security. There's really nothing like accepting genuine rejection. And yet, it is not the end of the world... I know. But processing it... hm.
I had already begun writing this blog, but so far all it said was "Things I Love." I'd then travelled away from the page, with the intention of returning to list out a few of the little things I love. Well, elephants are one of the big things I love. Most of you know this. I've always loved them. I'm not sure what about them captured my heart from the start, but I think it has something to do with their bigness, their ancient skin, their tender eyes, and their quietness (most of the time). I'm not sure, they've just always enchanted me. I remember having some kind of an elephant mask that I loved as a kid (at our old house). I also remember being very small, in the basement of our house in Edmonds, and showing how I could 'be an elephant' by looping one arm around the other and forming a sort of trunk. Around the age of 4 we had our infamous family zoo outing. Granted, we've had many family zoo outings, and many very memorable ones. ;) But, this is the one that lives on, and lives to be told at far too many family dinners, as the epitome of my inner.... stubborness. I wanted to see the elephants. And my dad said if I mentioned the elephants one more time, we were going to go home. The day ended in some sort of a stare off between my dad and I on opposing curbs, and eventually the whole family being packed up early and driven home. My passion needed to be tamed. We didn't return to the zoo for several years it seems. I'm sorry sisters. Now, I visit the zoo with my buddy T, and we sit at the elephants for as long as we like. ;) But I also don't demand we see them first anymore. Turns out the 24 year-old me has a bit more tact than the 4-year old one. It's been months since I tossed over a book shelf of worked myself into a fevered frenzy. ;)
Some less big things I love:
- unexpected sunny(ish) mornings, like today. I love driving across the bridge on 1-5 into Seattle and looking across at the space needle, backlit by the morning sky. Last week, the woman next to me on the bus, tapped me on the shoulder and said "Oh my- look at that!" And I was glad this stranger did, for there was a glorious pink sunrise gripping the sky. I love the morning sky.
- coffee - good coffee.
- swim suits. I like to miss-match them. Which doesn't really matter since I rarely ever dare to take off the board shorts. :/ Regardless, I have more swimsuits than you want to know.
- a well-crafted sentence/ description.
- letters, writing and receiving them in the mail.
- a good black pen.
- a great coffee cup or tea cup.
- bold colors. A good green, burnt orange, yellow or blue especially.
- gray sweaters.
- a good book (obviously).
- finding a new favorite author or poet.
- good music
- having a restaurant/coffee shop that you feel is your own.
- taking long drives, when you don't really have to be where you're "headed."
- really productive days.
- a massage.
- time with friends & family.
- playing nintendo with friends.
- a good picture.
- really any little thing done well.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My dear friend Abigail sent me a message last night, entitled "This Reminded Me of You." I opened my inbox this morning to find this:
“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
— Rosemary Urquico
As I was reading it, I thought perhaps she might have written it, for it had too many perfect little details about her and I. But alas, it's a stranger, and all the better. While I prefer not to be lied to, all the rest I love!! How wonderfully sweet. Yes, find a girl who reads, she'll enchant the rest of your days.
Monday, February 14, 2011
And I refuse to hate it for being Valentines Day. And I especially choose not to ignore it. What a wonderful day we get to celebrate... all that is, and has been, and will one day be.
So, here's to..
So many of the women I love, having found their one.
To waiting for mine. And to him being worth any wait..
To the time I have now, and the times I've had.
Happy Valentines Day.
Nonethless, I knew I needed to head in to work, since last Monday I stayed home due to my back hurting, plus Kim was here. So, today, I had to go in. I texted Kristin "I feel terrible, but I'm on my way in. Just wanted to forewarn you, I may not make it long." She responded, "I think I got food poisoning last night, I doubt I'll make it in at all." Food poisoning, trump card.
So, I'm in. And the morning is unveiling one terrible turn after another. All things that could go wrong, are going wrong. And to add to all that, I'm a bit suspicious that Kristin stayed home on purpose, to avoid this terrible day. Not only are there 3 different depositions happening.. one of them, is of our oppossing attorney's pregnant wife... and as she sits awkwardly out here in the lobby with me, I suddenly realize all over again, it's Valentines Day.
I feel like a jerk. And I had nothing to do with this. I guess, hey, at least they get to be together... even if one of them is being grilled by my boss in a bad mood. :/
Sunday, February 13, 2011
A. Knitting takes a long time.
B. Knitting makes your fingertips raw.
C. It's not exactly relaxing when your natural tendency is a perfectionist...
D. I might have a scarf by next fall.
E. Thank you, youtube.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Tonight, dinner at the Mitchells with Ty.
We're sleeping over and in the morning Rob & Aime are coming over for breakfast. (This also means I get to see Aurelia when she first wakes up!! I can't get enough of that little girl!)
Then, Sunday, I'm going to the Ballet with Levi and his friends from work.
I love dance, but I've never really been to a good ballet. When I'm in a nastier mood, I point out that it's because my dad always takes Kristin to the ballet. ;) And as he'd retaliate, I've been to plenty of big sporting events, and musicals. While I greatly dislike the men's costumes, I love ballet! (But to boot, Levi mentioned that they have a suite.)
I'm going to get a good fill-up on the people I once spent every day and evening with... and now see once a month or so. I've been looking forward to it all week!!
Through in a couple other fun things and this weekend is bound to be delightful, and believe it or not, restful. I think I rest better with Elise & Jeff, Rob & Aime, and Ty then almost anyone else. I'd bargain it has something to do with all the practice we've had over the past 20-some summers.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Just contemplating this strange balance of keeping my mystery, while also growing in a willingness to be seen, heard and known. What good is a writer who insists on hiding? She'll have nothing worth reading if she won't spend herself in the pages. But what value does a woman retain, if she's spilling all her secrets to the masses? While processing and praying about it yesterday, I was reminded anew of the delight God takes in mysteries concealed... womanhood seems to me to be equal parts having a beauty to reveal, and a beauty to conceal. Don't sell your secrets to the masses, or your pearls to the swine.
That said, as long as you're growing deeper every day, there's always a little more you can dare to give away... and trust that the few will know better, that there's always more hidden for the one who can seek.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Girls used to cry alone and fall asleep,
Now they just post pictures and parade as deep.
We used to write our hearts on paper
We'd keep beneath our beds, and layers.
It was our pain, and we'd fight the derail,
We'd make it to morning, after a long night's trail.
And we'd look back, and the fight would be ours.
No one would know of that journey under the stars,
No one would see what the blood did to our dreams,
No one would could comment, or like, or re-stream.
And it didn't matter, because we'd grown in the night,
And the night didn't need to be seen, in plain sight.
Yes, we'd grow in the night, and in the night we'd grow deep.
Now they miss sleep, to broadcast their heartaches, their journey as steep,
Their hearts as the lonely, their dreams as unseen.
But I read it all yesterday, it was all in my feed.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Now, I'm at work, and from out of nowhere, I found myself singing in my head "You can't keep a good dog down, no you can't keep a good dog down..." Not quite sure how it happened, but apparently Itchy & Charlie are characters in my day already. Oh the joys of when your favorite childhood movies never leave you.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Film Number 2: Viva Las Vegas
Ann Margaret and Elvis Presley.
Anne Margaret inspires me... in some ways. Sorry, can't help but love a red-headed, green-eyed girl who can dance, not to mention sing. My mom grew up being told she looked like Anne Margaret. I grew up being told I looked like my mom. ;) A girl can dream a bit...
She's got one inch and one pound on me. After a little google search I also just found she wasn't a natural red-head; according to the quote she had "mousy" blonde/brown hair. I suppose my dad actually meant it as a compliment when I was 13 and he first called my natural hair color "mousy brown." Right dad? ;)
Film Number 3: Loving You
I'd like to be sitting right there again, sometime soon. Or here....
Or any of these...
Or, someplace even better. :)
I'm craving the heights... a view... an ocean... a mountain... my heart's desiring to be outside amidst the wonders of creation, breathing deep and remembering how much bigger this plan is than just me.