Patience

These foxgloves remind me that 

patience and perseverance pay off,

in the garden and in life.

Seven years ago,

after my mom pulled all the weeds, 

this bed was empty.

Except for an old climbing rose, 

that you can't see hiding behind the Miss Kim lilac.

I bought six plants, all flowers, 

that year from the farmer's market. 

Four of them are still alive.

Finally, this bed is looking full.

  Five years ago I discovered winter sowing.

I planted fox gloves that first year, 
and the year after that.

But they never sprouted.

The poppies always grow though, 

and the oriental poppies come back every year.

Last year I tried again with fresh fox glove seeds.

Something changed. They sprouted.

But fox gloves require extra patience, 

the biennials don't bloom until year two.

But now, look at them now.
So many more blooms to enjoy.

Stuff Check: Shoes

I am not a shoe woman. Never have been. Shoe shopping has always been more torture than treat. It can't be helped really, with clod-hoppers like mine. Shoes that look completely cute in a size six or eight, looks absolutely hideous when blown up to size-11 proportions.

So imagine my surprise when I finally photographed my shoe collection, as the Center for the New American Dream's blog invited readers to do, and found out that I'm really downright average on the shoe ownership scale. In fact, I own more than the average 19 pairs per American (broken down by gender its 27 pairs for women and 12 for men) since I own three more pair than the 19 pictured above for a total of 22 pairs. 22!

Then I went and counted all the boyfriend's shoes and he only has 20 pairs. I complain about how many pairs he has (many of which he never wears), and it turns out that he has less than me. Ouch. I guess appearances are deceiving since more of my shoes are hidden away and his are out in the open.

Maybe owning 22 pairs of shoes would be okay if I loved and wore them all, but of course I don't. Out of the 22 pairs I own,  I regularly wear five. There are 7 pairs I have worn less than five times. And out of those seven, there are four pairs I've never worn. Ugh. Apparently not being a shoe person does not exempt me from making impulse shoe buys. Plus there are three pairs that should really be pitched, but for some inexplicable reason I keep hanging on to them.

It's time to cull my collection. I've already put two pairs in the donation pile and I'm giving myself six months to either wear or get rid of any unworn shoes in my closet. I'm going to shoot for 18 pairs or less by November.

How many pairs of shoes do you own? And is that number too many, too few or just right?

Why the Open Shelving Trend Is Not for Me

I'm ecstatic that its spring and warmer weather is on the horizon. Not just because this means we can stop being cooped up in the house and enjoy being in the garden, letting in the fresh air, etc. What I'm really happy about is that its almost outdoor painting weather. Which means I can stop looking at the scene above every day.

Every single thing in the kitchen cabinets has been on full display for the past six months (almost seven actually) since our outdoor cabinet spray-painting project was interrupted by, of all the nerve, winter. That's since last the end of September. Last September! As I'm more of a "hide all the stuff where I never have to look at it" kind of neat freak, this has been rather disturbing.

All-in-all I've handled it pretty well I think. I haven't murdered anyone, or had any major breakdowns (at least not since I spent a week painting the cabinet boxes). We even had some guests stay for the weekend. But as we get closer and closer to outdoor painting weather I've been itching to see my dishes and food stuffs hidden behind freshly painted white doors. And kitchen drawers! Remember self, when we had kitchen drawers to store stuff in? Oh, the luxury!

In a way, I guess I could take this experience as a great exercise in learning what we really need for day-to-day living. There is a rather large blue IKEA tarp bag hidden in the basement full of kitchen stuff from the drawers and cabinets that we've lived without quite easily for the past six months. I went from one drawer of cutlery and a second for utensils to a single drawer of both, and yet we were still able to cook. As I think about it, I'm not even sure what all is in that bag besides extra dish towels and the remains of the junk drawer.

Another thing the "great open cabinet winter of 2013" has confirmed is something I've long suspected. The trend of open shelving and open cabinetry is absolutely, positively, not for me! When the boyfriend's mother came to stay, she kindly remarked that she liked the open cabinets so much she thought I should leave them that way. While I'm glad that not everyone thinks the current state of my kitchen is as hideous as I do, there's no way I would choose this look on purpose.

Please don't misunderstand, I've seen pictures of some absolutely gorgeous kitchens that feature open shelving  and open cabinetry. What I question is the practicality of this trend. Perhaps if one lives without pets, hair, and has only beautiful dishes and kitchen items, then it's a lot less hassle. But for us, with three cats, one boyfriend, and my long hair, it's a disaster. I've been vacuuming the shelves because there is some hair, and a lot of dust everywhere. Do people dust their shelves and cabinets every week? Because more cleaning and maintenance is not my idea of fun.

I've also had two open shelves ever since I've lived in this house. I use them to store my decorative-only collection of vintage Pyrex. And they are purely decorative in part because you would need to to scrub them before every use due to the dust and sometimes bits of grease that find them. They look nice from far away, but I always hope visitors don't get too close and wonder if all my dishes are so sketchy. (They're not, pinky swear).

Readers, I'm curious, what do you think of this trend? And if you have open shelving in your home, how has the maintenance issue been? Do we just live in a freakishly dusty and furry house?

The Weighting Game

Making resolutions is a rare thing for me, and it's even more rare for me to do so around the new year. Thinking about what I want to accomplish for the next year is something I naturally do around my birthday instead. But there is something about the new year that makes is a good time to make a fresh start on being healthier, and so that's my big goal for 2013. Again. Getting healthier and finally finishing the freaking kitchen renovation, which has become rather embarrassing anytime anyone asks about it. The answer to that one is no, it's still not done, and yes, my kitchen cabinet doors are still sitting in the garage waiting for more spray-paint-friendly weather. To say I can't wait for spring is an understatement.

By setting only two big goals, I hope that it's easier to successfully accomplish both. But making a change to my usual routine and habits is never easy for me.

Now when I say I want to get healthier, what I really mean is, I want to lose some friggin' weight. And lots of it. Unfortunately this isn't my first rodeo. I've been unhappy with my weight for, oh, decades. When I was much younger, I wasn't actually overweight (looking back now I realize that at times I was darned skinny). Since college, however I've struggled to stay within my healthy weight range and have floated just above or under it. 

The Problem
Why I'm currently overweight is no secret of course. I like to eat. A lot. Unfortunately, I also like to eat crap. A lot. I don't love to exercise and I hate, hate going to the gym. But for several months of the year that's of the best options I have to get a decent workout. I will never be one of those people who enjoys working out (bike rides in the great outdoors, yes, everything else, hell no). The feeling I get after a workout is superb. But before and during? It's always a struggle. 

The Fix

How to lose the weight isn't a secret either. We all know the facts, eat less (and better), move more, repeat for the rest of your life. Doing that all the time, every single day, can be downright tricky however. 

The first time I really, seriously stuck to a healthy diet and exercise routine was 2009. Starting January 1 that year I used the free tracking tools at sparkpeople.com, ate better, exercised 3-6 times per week (burning around 2000 calories) and lost 35 pounds. I was so proud of myself. I kept it off until 2011 and then begin the much quicker slide back up. I gained that 35 pounds right back plus another 18 for bad behavior. A new medication may have contributed to that, but once again I had gone back into my old routine of eating lots of crap and never exercising.

So now I'm trying again, hopefully for good this time. I started on January 9 and am down 7 pounds as of today. Overall that's not bad, but it feels slower this time. And harder. I know I can do it, but I also know it's going to take a long time and that I can never stop trying.

One of the many annoying things about trying to lose weight is that I find myself more obsessed about food than ever. I'm constantly thinking about what I can or can't eat. Or trying to fight off a craving. Or adding up how many calories I have left. Or thinking about the next meal and whether I have a few extra calories to indulge a little, or not. It's exhausting. But it is getting easier.

One meal at a time, one day at a time. It's the key to everything, right?

On Worrying

I wish I could declutter worrying.

If worrying was an event in the Olympics, I'm pretty sure I would medal, if not take the gold. I've always been a worrier, at least as far back as I can recall. I worry about issues under my control and those that are not. I worry about issues big and small. I remember being completely worried about the environment in high school. Or worrying that I might die in my sleep before going to bed when I was younger than 10.

Sometimes the worries are manageable, and somewhat rational and I can shake them off, or distract myself from them, or at least cope with them. Other times they are all-consuming, like the last three days when my favorite (shh! don't tell the others!) cat Alex appeared to be having an issue with his teeth and I made a vet appointment for him for this morning.

See, Alex is 15, with kidney disease and diabetes, oh, and bad teeth. Trips to the vet with him for the past four or five years have usually meant bad news and a big vet bill. Plus, being a cat, he gets pretty stressed out, which in turn stresses me out. Basically, it's not a fun time and I dread it each time we must go.

This time I was already worried about the possibility of him having a tooth issue and needing a dental (which for cats means going under general anesthesia – something that isn't great for kidney disease or older cats), and then the receptionist said he needed a rabies shot before they would see him. That completely threw me into another level of tizzy, because it was yet another thing that could put his overtaxed system over the edge.

Though I knew it was irrational, I became convinced that this vet appointment pretty much spelled doom for my cat. The worry went into overdrive. I took a million videos and photos of him. I went to the pet store and bought his favorite, and more expensive, food and a new catnip mouse on Thursday and let him indulge all by himself as much as he wanted. I cried myself to sleep that night and almost called off work on Friday to spend more time with him.

Today, v-day, when I woke up I was so nervous that I felt physically sick. I can't tell you who was more nervous on the drive to the vet's office – me or the cat. Luckily, the visit went about as well as possible. First, they didn't even mention a rabies shot, and while his teeth aren't great and have a lot of plaque, the vet didn't see any signs of an acute issue that would require a dental. She is great and doesn't want to put him under unless she absolutely has to any more than I do. We got some antibiotics and he had some blood drawn, and came home 30 minutes later.

I know these kinds of worries are irrational. I completely understand that while it's happening, but that doesn't seem to help me not do it.

Some of my worry-coping strategies are:

1. Distraction – I try to distract myself  with movies, books, surfing the net, even work, anything that will take my mind off the issue for awhile. Tackling a video-editing project at work on Friday definitely kept my mind fully-occupied on Friday.
2. Exercise – A nice, exhausting exercise session really helps. Although I admit, I didn't do this this week, because I wanted to spend my extra time with Alex, rather than at the gym.
3. Writing – Writing about my worries in my journal (which is really a file on my computer because I prefer it these days to the clutter of a physical journal) really helps me express my feelings without boring others with them and surprisingly makes me feel better.

But at times when I'm at a level-ten on the worry Richter scale, these strategies don't quite cut it.

Am I the only one who gets like this? Are you a worrier, and if so what do you do to cope?

How to Fall in Love with Your Home Again

I've had some extensive time off during the holidays and one of the things I've been doing too much of is watching TV, namely HGTV. It doesn't take many episode of House Hunters and the like before I want to smack someone upside the head and show them that their current home, or the smaller home they dismissed out of hand, could be perfectly fine with just a few small adjustments.

I shouldn't be so hard on those poor House Hunters participants; falling out of love with your home happens to most of us at one time or another. Remember when you first saw your current home? When you first fell in love with, or were at least perfectly satisfied, with your home? Remember when it was new (to you at least), exciting and full of possibilities? But eventually that newness wears off and we begin to take our homes for granted. Maybe they put on a few pounds, perhaps they haven't kept themselves up like they used to, perhaps old age is taking its toll. Eventually homes can begin to seem a bit sad, cluttered and neglected and the siren song of moving up to a bigger, newer, shinier, better home might begin to appeal to you. But before you start packing, you might want to try a few easy tips to fall in love with your home again.

1. Clean up - Sounds too simple to work? Perhaps, but a clean, tidy home is much easier to love. Whenever I'm feeling especially down on my house I give it a good scrubbing and inevitably it always looks vastly improved afterwards.
   
   
2. Declutter - You've heard it before and you'll hear it again, because it's true. Decluttered spaces feel and look larger. So put your house on a diet and get rid of some of the crap you no longer use or love, and see what a difference it can make in your home. Visit the clutter busters category of this blog for more decluttering inspiration.
   
   
   

   

   this corner cabinet is one of my favorite areas to rearrange

3. Rearrange - I'm not a serial rearranger, but I am always impressed with how happy rearranging things in my home can make me feel about the space. First we get used to our surroundings and then we get bored with them. By simply rearranging some of your trinkets and decor, you can make your space feel fresh and new again. You can go hard-core and rearrange the furniture (if you have the space), but even changing out pictures or changing a shelf arrangement can make a big impact.
   
   
4. Fix it! - Most homes having something that needs fixing. Whether it's a nail hole that needs patching (ahem, like in my living room), a messy space that needs an intervention (hello, basement!), fixing something that has been bugging you not only gets a nagging item off the to-do list, it can make you feel better about your home as well.
   
   
5. Add a little something - If you've completed the first three tips and your home still doesn't make you smile buying one or more new, strategic pieces can make a big difference. Whether it's new pillows that really pop for your couch, or a new throw for your bed, the right small touch can make a big difference. You don't have to spend a lot of money to achieve a new look either, shop a sale, use a coupon, buy used (via thrift stores, garage sales, Craigslist, etc.) or make something.
   
   
6. Paint - I am continually amazed at what a big difference a new coat of paint can make (example 1, ex. 2, ex.3, ex. 4, ex. 5). Compared to most remodeling jobs, painting a piece of furniture, room, trim, etc. can make a big difference in how you feel about your home. Paint can also help you live with something that is less than ideal while you save up for what you really want (I'm looking a you, fake tile walls).
   

What tips and tricks help make you fall back in love with your home?

Review: 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

I was surprised when I picked up Jen Hatmaker's 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess from the hold shelf at the library. Surprised, that is, that I requested it in the first place. If you check out the other reviews I've done you'll see that the idea certainly fits within my usual genre of interest. The basic idea is that in order to simplify her life after being called rich by a poor young hurricane victim who is staying in her  home, Hatmaker decided to simplify seven areas of her life. She resolves to spend one month on each of the areas--food, clothes, spending, media, possessions, waste and stress--boiling it down to the number seven by only eating seven foods, wear seven articles of clothing, spend money in seven places, etc.

My first problem with the book, and the reason I was surprised that I picked it up in the first place, is that religion is very front and center throughout the book. Since I'm not religious, this is a turnoff. I can't say this was hidden, however, if I'd clicked on "read more" in the Amazon description, or even read a bit about the author, who is active in the running of some new-agey church in Austin and is on the Christian author/speaker circuit. In other words, I should known, but I missed that little snippet.

Intrigued by the book's premise, I decided to read it anyway. And if you're a heathen like me who is turned off by a bunch of religious talk, let me warn you, it's sprinkled pretty liberally throughout the book as Hatmaker views her foray into simplicity as a way to get closer to God. There were several paragraphs and pages I skimmed right over cause, no offense to the believers out there, that stuff resonates with me about as much as tales of Santy Claus. Once you get past the first chapter or two though it does die down a bit.

The second problem, however, invades the entire book, and that's the core concept itself. Sure, it's intriguing to read about someone choosing to simplify their life by sticking to a severe limit, in this case, eating the same seven foods, wearing the same seven items of clothing (stick that in your craw you less-than-100-thing- wannabes). Could you do that? Could I? But more importantly, why bother? Because in the end it just feels like a giant gimmick, ahem, another giant gimmick, for a book that doesn't make a whole lot of sense in reality. Let's face it, the simplicity genre does love a good gimmick, and a lot of the books I've read employ them. Though, in retrospect those are the books I tend to enjoy least with the exclusion of the Moneyless Man, but the whole gimmick for a book thing isn't really working for me anymore. What does sticking to seven foods really teach someone that sticking to a budget limit, or a healthy-eating plan, etc, would not? In fact the latter ideas seem more edifying to me, but to each their own. And wearing only seven items of clothing? Well that was just silly really, especially where she shuns wearing a coat during a freak Texas cold snap because it's not on the list, and instead complains frequently about it. Just go get your freaking coat already!

It's not all bad of course. Hatmaker is a good and humorous writer. She manages to make even telling the mundane details of the book entertaining, and unlike some simplicity books I've read, the quality of her writing only enhances the tale. While any way of spreading the simplicity message is a good thing to me if it resonates with readers, this one just didn't resonate with me. Sadly, I can't say Hatmaker's book has inspired me to make any additional changes toward simplicity and isn't one I'd recommend.