I'm pretty sure patience never killed anyone.  Pretty sure.  (And is it odd that my immediate response right now is that I want to do a google key word search to find out? Probably not.  Such is our generation.)  But I feel like I could be the outsider on this one (proud of that use, John?).  I'm DYING here.  So many things that I'm just sitting around waiting on, trying to keep calm so the lining of my stomach isn't eaten away by stress (aka acid). Graphic? Sorry.  :/  The waiting is doing it to me.

I'm waiting on this and on that.  And learning that you really can't rush a process.  I can already see things being worked out in me from the different processes.  And I am genuinely enjoying each of the processes.  But at this very moment, with my sister thousands of feet up in the air and still hundreds of miles away.... I'm really just getting stir crazy in the wait. 

Patience never killed anyone, Kati.  Patience probably, never killed anyone.  Before.

(I'm only working until noon today and I've got some projects to get to, thankfully.) 

Just bought my tickets for the Rodeo and

Extreme Bulls this weekend!!

I bet the Toddler (my Pathfinder's name... referring to a small child, not to Sittig) could easily tote this guy along. 

 I'd camp my way around the U.S. :)

I want one.

I feel like September is a playland.  With all the open time we had, we've planned a weekend to Portland (where John spent the 6 years before moving here), a backpacking trip in the Olympics (one of my 25 goals for this year was to visit the Olympics - plus, I've never used my backpacking backpack!), we're going to the Ellensburg Rodeo this weekend with my sisters, and we're moving John into his new place this month.  Not to mention, September is always my favorite month of the year!  It's the month I want to cuddle up with my mom and watch old films all day.  It's the month my dad and I take walks and go buy new pens.  It's when the air is perfectly warm but keeps you cool and gives you room to breathe.  Everything about September makes you want to grow and learn.  Be out, be in, be with people you love.  It's the month you could do anything or go anywhere!

I love 1920s fashion.  Little details.  And once again, I could say, "I liked it before it was cool."  Except that, I'm pretty sure it was cool in the 20's.  I started loving it back in Junior High.  Not in the dress up in it on a daily basis way, just in adoring the hemlines and shoes and hairstyles.  Oooh and Awwing with my mom as we watch old movies.  I don't know that we shut up through Singing in the Rain (released in 1952, but the style in the musical has a lot of similarities in the shoes and wastelines- I also love the 40s and 50s fashion) when we saw it at the 5th.  Every new costume brought a new comment from us to each other.  I'm sure that could get annoying to the rows behind us (which is all the rows - slight brag?  maybe.), but we figured the bright stage lights prevented the performers from seeing us - besides, there were constant smiles on our faces.  My mom picks me up little things here and there that reflect the generation - hats, jewelry. 

This morning, while walking the downtown streets of Seattle in my new dress... it struck me: has it all just been about the hemline?  And that, just for comfort?  I picked up a new dress last week that I'm in love with, the hem falls low on my hips, the front has a beautiful seafoam (almost) pleat, the neckline hides most of my collarbone in a soft round swoop.  It's comfortable and pretty and flattering.  (And it was picked out for me by Miss Cline, but more on that later today.)

But the most important part of it is, it is entirely loose on my stomach.  I hate things tight on my stomach.  Not even tight, fitted.  I changed out of my bridesmaid dress halfway through my sister's wedding reception because I couldn't stand having it fitted on my esophagus for one more minute.  It makes me nauseous.  And panicked.  I'm secretly terrified of wedding dresses.  :/  So you see, the majority of my style is built on this simple fact.  If it is fitted, it must be fitted at my waste/hips and it must be loose on the top. 

The 20's are the perfect image.  And I'm wondering if that's what has been subconsciously behind it all, all along.  That, and my secret world in which I imagine all of life as a movie with Fred Astaire and myself as Ginger Rogers - a tap scene around every corner.  It's really a miracle that I don't own more sequins.  I do sometimes buy shoes based off of the sound they make when I walk/click.  And shopping malls?  I usually can't resist a bit of a tap solo.  Alderwood is marvelous if I'm wearing the right shoes.


**I know so very, very little about fashion.  And I know it.  I just know what I like, and I use my best descriptive abilities to communicate it.  Judge kindly, you who know.  ; ) 

Could you sail me to the moon?

I'm pretty sure I saw a pirate sail the might skies once...

I loved last night.  After an incredibly long day, I arrived back to my apartment with the beau and a bag of groceries for making lasagna.  But it was late already.  In a vote of three, we decided to postpone the lasagna (yet again) and instead relish Meg's homemade chicken noodle soup for night two.  After we'd all set down our laptops and ipads, we dealt out Phase 10 cards and taught Meg how to play.  There something about learning a new game together, eating homemade soup and playing cards around a kitchen table.  It was perfectly underrated.  I hope it's a preview of Autumn.  I think it shall be.  I love sharing a  home with Megs.  I love that it's frequented by Beau.  I love these little moments we all get to share together.

John told me a while back that I could decorate his apartment.  I've wanted for some time to decorate a guy's apartment.  We'd done a few small things here and there so far but not much.  Just in time for us to get serious about it - he found a new apartment. :)  He wasn't sure how serious he was about moving, but I lined up a few places for us to check out last weekend and the second one we saw was a huge steal.  And still close enough to his work for him to walk each day.  He decided he wanted it, and luckily we were some of the very first to see it.  He filled out the forms and signed the check before the rest ever showed up for the open house.  Tomorrow he'll be signing the lease. 

I've already created a new Pinterest board.  :)  His new lease will overlap for an entire month with his current one, so we have time to paint, clean and decorate.  It's probably close to 3 times the size of his current place (okay, maybe only 2x, but the King of Hyperbole will forgive me for the gross exaggeration), with plenty of windows and good lighting, old hardwood floors and thick white trim.  It's going to be a very handsome manly abode.  And it's going to be a blast getting it there!

Just signed up for my first Fantasy

Football League.

Not by choice.  By work requirement.

Meet the Hooligans.

Rule 5:  By the time you realize you need a haircut, everyone else has, too.

"Figure out how long you should go between haircuts. (Hint: This interval will shorten as you grow older. Just ask Gary Busey.) Schedule them in advance—every 6 weeks, or whatever works for your hair. If you wait until you need one, then you're walking around looking like you need one.  And masculine style is about looking like you don't need anything."

I was looking through an article a friend posted and this line caught me.  Is masculine style really all about looking like you don't need anything?  I could see the validity in that.  Interesting concept to consider - what guys will do to look like they don't need to do anything.  Leads to two predominant styles I would think: the rugged unkempt look or the chic trimmed look.  Right?  Both could be different takes on this.  And I can see the virtue in both because I think women are in fact attracted to that quality of competence in a man, that virtue that communicates they don't need anything.  But all too often, it becomes more of a tangible seeking of style and manliness that leaks into their conversation and their sideways glances at reflections and let me tell you... all attractiveness is lost.  I love men's fashion.  I love having a reason lately to sneak into men's grooming shops and boutiques and peruse all sorts of manly little gadgets like straight edge razors and colognes.  But I especially love meeting men who don't fuss over their looks, style and body.  That is attractive.  I like standing next to a guy who's smiling at my outfit, not his in the window over my shoulder. 

I get to see my sissy in THREE DAYS!

Counting down the days until our next visits has become a regular (and important) part of living with my sister in Nashville.  Typically, each summer I visit her and at least once a year she visits here.  We're lucky to get to see each other twice a year (sometimes more), I know there are others who see their loved ones less often, but still goodbyes never get easier. 

The weeks leading up to our next visit become bright spots in the year.  And this time we only had to wait a little over two months between our trips.  It made saying goodbye in Nashville this past July a little easier.  It was truly just a "see you soon." 

My sisters started going to the Ellensburg rodeo together back in the early 2000's.  And soon brought me in on the annual trip to begin a sister tradition.  The last time we went was just after Kim & Jason were married.  When Kim mentioned flying back for a little renewal this year, I couldn't have been happier.  This little heart feeds on family traditions and the ones that have nothing to do with a holiday are kind of like Halloween candy in September.  (early candy, not old candy. let's be clear.)

The Red Sox happen to be in town over Labor Day as well, so Jason was even more supportive of the idea.  Three more days and I'll have a weekend of festivities with my sissies and our beaus - and some amazing time with my crazy wonderful family all together.  A treat usually saved for Christmas. 

Sister trip to Vegas - 2010

11/25

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There are so many things I just can't say right now.  Hopefully, given a few more days there will be the opportunity to communicate them clearly to you all.

I spent yesterday with two of my favorite people, Megs & John.  We got coffee, wandered the Fremont library hit the Mexican food truck by our house (delicious), oh yes and found John a new apartment.  He decided he wanted to start looking around, I'd rounded up 4 to look at this weekend.  By number two, he was taken.  I'm pretty in love with the place myself and they'll allow him to paint and decorate and do all he wants.  Which guess what that means?  I get to paint and decorate and do all I want. :) (Thank you, John.)  I LOVE decorating! And I love painting! And I've always wanted to decorate a guy's place - so many fun things that I couldn't ever do with my own.

After filling out forms and checks, the three of us met up with my sister and her boyfriend and helped move her to her new place.  Conveniently, all these "new apartments" are within 5 minutes of my own. I'm a pretty big fan of that.  I'm hunting for places for a few more friends who are considering the move to Ballard/ Fremont.  :)

It's the season of moving.  Lately, it seems almost every weekend there is someone to help move.  Last weekend it was two of John's friends.  This weekend Kristin.  Next weekend... John? :)

We spent part of time driving around memorializing all the big changes that have happened in each of our lives this year already.  Meg graduated school, decided for sure to stay in Washington, moved and got a new roommate (me!) and started a new full-time job.  I started a new job, moved out, and started a relationship.  John conveniently started a new relationship as well, went to Spain, got a promotion, bought a motorcycle, and little did we know as we were talking, he'd be about to decide to move too in the next 15 minutes.

A lot has happened this year - I think for all of us - if we take a moment to assess and memorialize this year.  We have a lot to celebrate, my friends.  A lot to be grateful about.  A lot to memorialize.  The Lord has done great things for us.

In Junior High my dad decided I should begin playing premier soccer.  He'd route out the different league's tryouts and drag a somewhat begrudging daughter along to field after field each rainy weekend.  I wanted to play soccer.  And I wanted to play premier.  I just hated tryouts.  So much.  I don't think he really even knew it - I was just quiet.  I knew it was the necessary evil.

Most of the girls went to the same schools and naturally had friends on the field to stretch, pass and warm up with.  When game time came, they knew each other's names and wanted one another to make the team.  Not me.  I usually knew no one.  Maybe one girl.  It's really hard to make a good show for the coaches too when no one knows you or cares to help set you up with a good pass in the game here and there.  It's infuriating.  You just  have to hope for a good coach who sees how you are playing off the ball, because you are going to have a lot of time off that ball in the tryouts as a lone soldier.  And then, you can hope to do well in the drills: perfect touches, perfect shots.  But I usually didn't.  Definitely didn't do perfect.  See what makes me a great player is how I create. I don't take shots from the top of the 18 that leave a goalie in tears.  I see plays, I read players and I feed balls, well.  And that is hard to show until you have a team. 

After a weekend of tryouts, you would go home and take a hot bath to ease your aching muscles.  You'd ice and down the ibuprofen.  You'd rehydrate.  And mostly, you'd stare at your phone.  And with every hour that passed, you knew your odds diminished.  They were going to call the girls who made the team first, and make sure they accepted the position.... then they'd work down the list of players, who they may want to fill in a spot if it opens up, who just didn't make the team. 

I'll be honest, I didn't make a lot of teams.  I made enough.  And eventually, I made it on to my favorite team, with my favorite coach.  Everything was different there.  The assistant coach's daughter decided I was good, and she wanted to me to be her friend and teammate.  She made sure to feed me opportunities in the scrimmages.  I got a chance to show my strengths - and for once, I enjoyed a tryout.  It was also the first year ever I tried out for just one team.  I told my dad I was trying out for this one club and that was it - I was convinced that it was the team I wanted to play for, and was supposed to play for and that if I was to play soccer that year at all, I would.  I've never regretted that decision though I've often been baffled at how sure I was.

Tryouts taught me a lot.  Soccer in general did.  It's undoubtedly a large part of who I am.  I still don't love walking into a room of people I don't know.  But at least they aren't carrying around clip boards and narrowing down the room to 18.  I can choose to be comfortable and confident - I can make friends with strangers.  And I can handle stressful situations.  I can analyze people and situations.  I can coordinate situations like plays.  But, I still remember that terrible feeling that follows a tryout - staring at the phone on and off, trying to think of something else, trying to not feel that giant knot in my stomach.

I feel that way right now.  I feel like I've just gone through tryouts and I'm waiting by the phone, praying I made the team.  I feel like I'm 17 again.

Scientific American's

10 Novels That Will Sharpen Your Mind

PS - the article referenced is the one I posted under "Rivers" last Winter,

if you'd like to take a look.

There are some things we still need and just haven't gotten.  We really need.  And haven't bothered to pick up.  For one, trash bins.  For two, a kitchen table.  We managed to have dinner company three nights in a row, and not have a kitchen table.  Instead, we served them on two little round tables with screw-in legs.  The first night showed how un-ideal our table situation was, as one of our guests went to set her glass down and discovered there was actually no table quite right there.  Two round tables, under one rectangular table cloth : danger. 

Last night I decided to top the tables with my big picture frame.  It looked cool (I thought) and we were definitely able to claim having provided a unique experience to our guest.... but it didn't exactly offer the stability you need for cutting steaks.   We took turns holding the "table" still.  And we kept all the glasses half-full.  

All three nights have required our guests give us quite a bit of grace and be along for the ride.  But last night was probably the peak.  We'd scheduled to have one of John's best friends over... before we knew that Meg would have accepted a job, started, and had her first event that would go well past 6pm (all within 3 days), and I'd be at an unexpected meeting myself until 6pm. 

I walked in the door (my door) at 6:30pm to smell all sorts of wonderful things.  John was seasoning steaks and mixing drinks.  Michael was standing in the kitchen with him, having brought wine and excellent music to share.   The fellas had taken care of it all.  I promised that  usually, when we invite guests over, we're usually home to greet them and we typically don't make others cook for them.  We also don't typically feed them on a giant picture frame.  Or, one day that won't be typical.  Hopefully.  Probably soon.  I'm just grateful we have friends who are willing to indulge us and play along at our Bohemian game.

We ended the evening with music and poetry on our little lawn.  Meg and I sipped wine while the boys enjoyed their pipes.  Byron, Keats and The Civil Wars.  It wasn't a bad summer night.  Not at all.

Sad:  When you walk into a room and your boyfriend stops and stares, "I haven't seen you with makeup on for.... 3 weeks!" 
Sad, sad truth.  : /  Thinking I should work on that.  It doesn't help the cause that he follows up with, "It's good, that way it's always a surprise." 

The Plan 

I'm going to hack an old webcam into a night vision webcam and see if I can catch where those little mice are coming from.  My landlord is going to rip out my counter and seal the crap out of everything. 

Things are looking up :)

I love getting emails like this, because I know he actually intends to do exactly that, or if he doesn't, he could.  Early on in getting to know John, I asked him to set up a webcam and livestream so I could watch the bird outside his office building a nest.  I was joking of course.  Within hours, I received a link.  I realized this was no ordinary boy.  All that to say, I was laughing this morning, picturing the electronic shenanigans Beau will be taking to catch his mouse (mousen?).

I stared at my boots for a long while before getting dressed this morning.  It feels like fall is right around the corner, and I'm starting to get butterflies. 

I have a dangerous habit. I tend to pick out recipes I've never made before whenever I have company coming over.  I find myself in the kitchen with a handful of ingredients, googling "How to wash a leek" and thinking, This could all go very wrong.  Monday - Wednesday we are having someone over each night for dinner and when I sat down to write out the menu, I determined Salmon and Quinoa sounded delicious. I blame this largely on Kaylee who is constantly posting these amazing looking photos of quinoa creations she's concocted.  I decided lime and mango type flavors (not original, but sounded delicious).  From there, I did the next important thing - texted Kaylee, who gave me encouragement that I could do it.  And then began my All Recipes search.  I settled on a mango salsa that had a lot of great reviews - and went with the suggestion to replace the habaneros with bell peppers.  While I also discovered mid-cooking that I didn't have a peeler for the mangos, a pyrex big enough for the salmon, or any foil.... and John got to run around from store to store... and my guests showed up before anything was in the oven even, it was an incredible night.  Thankfully my guests were the Sittigs, and things are allowed to go wrong or be late when you are entertaining close friends.  We ended up wrapping up the meal preparations all together, and intentionally I'd picked a quick-cooking meal.  Before you knew it we were sitting down (at our not-so-kitchen-table) to quite the tasty meal and already laughing hysterically.  I love summer nights that allow for new cooking adventures and close friends.

Many great ideas have been lost because the people who had them could not stand being laughed at.

~Author Unknown

Bright-Eye-Blueberries

Going to miss our littlest Berry.  She's the sweetest of them all.

We celebrated Em's last game with a pre-game potluck and a post-game jump...swim. 

There's no one like the Blueberries.

.

One of my 25 goals for 25 is "Learn to Golf." 

I don't think I can quite check it off after one round, but I'm definitely closer to it today. 

Good news too, turns out,  I like it. I like golf!

Fan.

On my mind this morning as I walked to the bus, Philippians 4. 

Quite possibly my favorite scripture of all time.   

4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

As much as I love all the little kids in my life, believe it or not, I am not constantly thinking, "Oh, I want one of those."  It sneaks up on me when those moments do happen - and it's usually due to some strange quality that makes me unwillingly imagine my own kid as likely to possess that same quality.  Here, it was just a glimpse of some little brunette in a sounders jersey.  Most likely enjoying the long hot days of her first summer soccer camp.  I wouldn't mind driving a little girl like this to practice some day.

Going golfing for the first time in 5 hours. :)

I could use a bit more of this in my life.

It's easy to start complaining.  Lately, I've been realizing I'm "annoyable."  By a lot of things I don't want to be.  I've suddenly realized my inner conversation has begun to sound something like a garbage disposal.  And I'm choosing to change that.  I used to be pretty unaffendable and I wasn't bothered by a lot.  I'm going to be like that again now.  Not sure how or when it happened, but I think it's our natural tendency to drift toward it.  You hear people complaining all day long and you start to replicate it too.  Gas is expensive.  People are lazy.  Politicians are crooks.  Bosses are unappreciative.  Friends are entitled.  And on and on as it circles in to your personal lives and syphons out your gratefulness, joy and compassion. 

This week, I've been making a choice to replace complaints with gratefulness.  I don't want to become the woman who's impossible to please and easy to annoy.  I want to be the one others feel ease and comfort around.  And I know that starts with my own thoughts, in my own inner conversation. 

I want to always see beauty - where others may miss it.  Those who grumble and complain are those who are most blind to all the lovely and worthy things and people around them. 

3 years.... and counting.

I won't be there, but I'll be cheering them on.

I feel like everything has taken on a sort of enchantment.  I set out my blankets and snacks and lantern and couldn't quite believe it was real.  I've tried every year to have a wonderful viewing party for the Perseids.  It usually ends with me sitting alone someplace, staring at a half-cloudy sky.  Somehow, this year it happened.  So easily and comfortably too.  All the sudden it was dusk, the car was packed, and we were driving through the mountains - heading East for a few hours just to see the stars from a better angle in our tiny world.  We were like the Little Prince, moving our chairs to watch the sun set once more and the stars come out in a quieter land.  It was real life.  I was laying under stars, listening to a story, counting fires in the skies.  Sipping whiskey with my heart's friend.

And meanwhile, I knew others were doing similarly.  They were in big houses by the beach, laughing and eating and enjoying a hot summer eve.  They were telling stories and making stories.  And when I'd read them later, I'd read them all with that same odd feeling of enchantment.  Summer has a way of doing that.  Especially the last days of summer, when you begin to realize that it's all about to disappear.  And here in Seattle the magic is all the stronger.   It's a friend who's only just arrived, and already you are dreading the day they pack it all away and drive across the East. 

How summer does this to me each year, I don't know.  Just as I've committed to giving up, it silently lays itself out all around me and leaves me a in a quiet mood of contentment.  It makes me fall in love with my life, with my city, with my dreams.  It makes me fall in love with itself.  Summer, you are a terrifying Enchantress.  And I dread the day you'll wave your hand and disappear again.  But in the meantime, I love you, because you make me feel every minute. 

This was a very full and wonderful weekend.  With the memorial service, celebrating Pastor Dennis Trout.  A very intense, and impacting evening.  I don't think anyone could have walked away with a lot of reflection and analysis of our own lives.  It was an incredible time to celebrate a man who affected a lot of lives. 

The rest of the weekend included unexpected dinner with the Sittigs and Carpenters, sleeping in, lunch with my sis, stargazing and the second best meteor shower I've seen, coffee, games, antiquing, a cool new shelf the beau built, and an evening picking up my parents from their trip of a lifetime and seeing the first hour or so of their films.  It was largely unplanned and all quite wonderful. 

I hope deep conversations and good friends found their way into your weekend too.  And perhaps if you were as lucky, you also managed to knock a few things off the to-do list along the way.

A goal for 2013.

Room For Rent
If any of you ladies are considering moving closer to the city - a friend of mine has a couple rooms opening up in her house September 1st.  Her home is adorable and located on Beacon Hill - in a cute and far more safe neighborhood than you might be picturing right now.  A block away from the light rail and bus stops, it takes her about 10 minutes to commute to work downtown (4th & University) each day.  I believe there are typically four girls in the house.  If you are interested and want more details, let me know.  Just thought I'd throw that out there. :)

Perseid Time!!

And the weather forecast is looking good!

John and I decided last night we should have our own happy hour tonight.  Upon discussion with Meg, it was confirmed.  I had a couple minutes at work and decided to create a special little invitation.  They both already knew, but what the heck.  There's been so much happening, and today Meg and I both had big meetings.  I sent out a little invitation around noon to a "celebration" in anticipation that it would be a great day.  And it has proven to be, even more than anticipated.  I think it's important we celebrate the big and little victories in our daily lives.

cel·e·brate [ séllə bràyt ]

1. show happiness at something: to show happiness that something good or special has happened by doing such things as eating and drinking together or playing music


2. mark occasion: to mark a special occasion or day by ceremonies or festivities

3. perform religious ceremony: to perform a religious ceremony according to the prescribed forms

  .

Guess who scored a goal last night?  And guess who's beau had the beautiful assist?  :)

Minus the ridiculous yellow card it was a great game.  Oh sorry, did I mention that card?  (John is thinking, oh no, here she goes again..)  I was sent off the field with a yellow card.  Apparently some of the team was amazed - one girl said I was one of two people on our team she least expected to get a card.  That was almost enough to make me laugh.  I am little.  There is no doubt about that.  And I'm not a "dangerous" player.  In fact in my older years, I'm a far safer player.  I have a bad back and silly neck and it's just not worth it usually to risk it against a 30 year-old guy who has a lot to prove in his near-middle age days.  But, I have had my share of cards, believe you me.  And there is something great about the feeling of walking off the field with a well-deserved card.  I don't mean a bad attitude, or an aim to hurt someone... I just mean, you let them know you're there, and you're not afraid.  It could have been more about telling them exactly that, or it could have been about throwing yourself out there in order to give everything to get that goal.  It's wonderful.  You're not a good player if you aren't getting a foul here and there. 

But last night, was not that.

  (more to come...)

To know that a choice will bring you life, and also bring you tears, and to choose it anyways - that is courage.

This is what I am learning from a particular couple of people in my life right now.   To choose pain in order to bring you closer to another, or loneliness to come closer to a dream.  Neither can be done without great strength, great love, and courage.  To know this will hurt, and decide it is worth it.

25 for 25

One more checked off.

.

I had a dream last night that John shaved his beard.

And I was annoyed.

A friend of ours threw a Northwest themed fundraising party a couple months ago. 

We came as hipsters. We brought our own vinyl, tall boys, camera, bike tire, wool socks and flannel. 

We brought a few other things too.  :) 

I like the people God's put in my life.  Old, and new. 

Last night before dinner, I was chatting with Esther about life and posture and all the crazy things rushing into our lives.  Esther will be moving to New York in 12 days.  A friend had encouraged her, "You have to remember who you are when you get there." I've heard this phrase many times over the years, but I heard it differently yesterday. 

I'd just been sharing with Esther, last week I hit a point of just wondering if I was me.  Sometimes when wonderful things happen, it feels surreal.  Well, I think when a number of wonderful things happen all at once, and keep happening all around you, hurrying you along, that surreal feeling can linger.

When discussing this last night, it sparked a thought, how much of my identity as an artist and writer and woman is tied to my fight and my struggle, and perhaps my hoping?  And when I gain those things I've been holding on for, have I somehow lost something?  I think perhaps I have.  And its a loss I am content in, but one I'm having to wrestle through anew.  It's almost as though you have to find yourself in the midst of all your dreams around you.  When they're more like balloons up in the sky, it's easy to not get lost in them, but when they drop down into the room... that's different.  When everything around you changes, and your actions therefore look different too, it's hard to gage if you are being you.  I have a new home, a new neighborhood, a new relationship.  I have new things to consider when making decisions.  My schedule and daily life look remarkably different today then it did 2 months ago.  I sit at the bus stop each afternoon and watch my old bus route pull off, like a life I used to ride.

It's odd.  She's said it before, but she said it again last night when it was exactly the words I think we both needed to hear:  we have to have bigger dreams now, a new set of dreams.  She read somewhere about the number of artists who after having their work displayed in a museum, never paint anything great again.  They hit their goal and that is that.  So much of who I am is fight and hope.  Without dreams and promises, I don't know what I would be.  Thankfully, I still have a lot of dreams and hopes to fight for.  I also think that I have something to learn about living in the dreams and hopes that have fallen into my daily life.  Wrestling through something new, and learning that I'm still me.  Staying calm, and being willing to be pulled out of my old daily route... because I wouldn't want to miss any one of the new stops. :)

**It should be noted that while this conversation was happening, Meg was in the kitchen making something delicious for a special dinner!  Esther and I were busy getting full on olives and appetizers.**

My parents met today.  My mom was 16 with little pig tails and a big fiery temperament.  My dad was 18, a senior at Seattle Prep.   Both were brought along by a friend to the SeaFair Hyrdoplane races.  When my mom kicked one of the guys out of the car for being a terrible backseat driver, my dad's attention was caught.  Thank you Lord for SeaFair, for Tom Link and for my mom getting to use the car that day.

Mom & Dad - Happy Anniversary of the day you met, and the day you met again.  Love you both - and I'm sure you're having the time of your lives right now.

So many possibilities. 

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Old Frost once chose a path in the woods and it made all the difference in his life.  I chose a soccer team and it has certainly changed mine.  I know what you are all immediately thinking.  And yes, it certainly brought a boy.  Sorry, a man.  And one amazing one at that.  I find it highly entertaining, seeing as there were certainly some who suggested I might "meet someone" at a game and I always rolled my eyes.  I joined the team to play soccer.  John joined to make friends.  Welp.  :/ 

But beyond serving as one competitive and kind of smelly meet cute, it has also introduced me to a a group of incredible people, all joined by some strand or another and thrown together on a field, wearing a blue t-shirt and probably, like me at this point, there half because of the delicious snack at the end of the game.*

Speaking of those delicious snacks - I've met one of the coolest families through the Blueberries.  For much of our first season I thought Chris and Emily were dating - it was confusing.  Especially when I realized Emily was in high school, and Chris was joining us at a bar.  When I realized they had the same last name, I thought for a brief moment "What? Married?!"  Oh no, siblings.  Season 3 (?), introduce another Amundson: Kim.  So far there's three, and I hear there's more.  I especially adore these two girls, they are truly unbelievably kind, loving, and hilarious.  And they bake treats. :)  We called Emily our "team mom", which some misheard as our "teen mom."  : / 

I say all this, to share a blog post I just read that completely inspired me again.  Kim is currently living in the Democratic Repulic of the Congo, and you can follow along on some of her incredible adventure and reflection on her blog,  3Point4DegreesSouth.  I've linked to her recent post, a slight tribute to the beloved berries.  ;) 

[Small world?  When I heard Em was heading to Pepperdine this fall, I tried to connect her with my cousin Amanda.  Turns out Amanda, and Emily's sister, Kim (who I had yet to meet back then) were already friends.  Who knew?]

*That was all one sentence.  I like to blame these on having read too much Hemingway now and save myself the trouble of reworking.  *guilty smile*

res·o·nance [ rézzənənss ]

1.underlying meaning: the effect of an event or work of art beyond its immediate or surface meaning


2.amplified sound: an intense and prolonged sound produced by sympathetic vibration

3.ringing quality of instrument or voice: an amplification of a sound, e.g. that of an instrument or the human voice, caused by sympathetic vibration in a chamber such as an auditorium or a singer's chest

Beautiful writing makes me want to write.  Especially the more it sounds like my own style.  As if the vibrations of that story strike up the strings in my own creative self.  When the sentence ends, I find myself still humming along.   Reminds me of my violin teacher's instruction regarding resonance.  When you strike a certain key on one string, others which share an overtone will begin to vibrate, aka, resonate.

Amazing how art resonates, in ways that can be measured in waves and in ways that cannot.



Via Wikipedia:  "String resonance occurs on string instruments. Strings or parts of strings may resonate at their fundamental or overtone frequencies when other strings are sounded. For example, an A string at 440 Hz will cause an E string at 330 Hz to resonate, because they share an overtone of 1320 Hz (3rd overtone of A and 4th overtone of E)."  > oh how I wish I really understood that.

Every day I check the Seattle Daily Journal of Commerce for any potential RFPs or RFQs we might want to go after.  Today had a few fun treats.  One called for archeological services.  :/ In the strictly Architecture and Engineering section.  Pretty sure they got their "A" subjects confused, but who hasn't ....  back in high school.  :/ 

Then the library posted a Request for Proposals.  Seem a bit ironic?


University Place Library earily learning literacy learning piece


University Place, WA


RFP due: 3 pm Sep 14, 2012

Public notice: 286943

Owner: Pierce Cty Library Dist, 3005 112th St. E, Tacoma WA 98446-2215, 253-548-3412, email jnelson@piercecountylibrary.org, contact Judy Nelson

RFP from: Owner

Bids to: Owner

DJC Ref #: 2000117934

Notes: Obtain the RFP from the owner's website beginning Aug. 1.
Scope: Design, craft, and install a children's learning piece for early literacy in the University Place Library.

Happy Wednesday. 

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