I am going on day 15 out here in seclusion. The outside world is still jostling along at a very fast pace, and our days are drifting. Time seems to slow here. I look out the window at the water and leaves falling and I feel relaxed and quieted.
I am also ready to crawl back into my nest and settle in. It is difficult to be displaced with small children. We have had a few casualties while here: a broken picture frame, some lamps falling over, drinks spilling, and I feel more anxious than normal since these are not my things.
The stillness and solitude is startling. I realize how loud life can be and it brings me back to my core to have nothing to do and no one to talk to. My cell phone doesn't work out here and I feel bad to make long distance calls. So aside from emergencies, my social life, however small it is, is put on hold.
Could I live out here permanently? I don't know. If I had a cottage to do as I wanted and a girlfriend nearby to visit with and hang with, craft with and school with, I think I could. But I am a talker and with no one over 6 years old, days can become quite lonely. However, I have enjoyed the escape and retreat from normal life and feel ready to tackle the chaos when we return home.
I feel very out of touch with almost everyone. It's been a strange and busy Fall season for our family. My trip to Scotland, homeschooling, teaching art classes, and preparing for craft shows has eaten spare time and sucked away my usual visiting hours and time set aside for hospitality. We rarely make it to church, don't meet with our small group, sleep very little, and still, have a to do list a mile long.
I am looking for ways to simplify, to scale down, to organize my time and build routine. We are a family of sponteneaty and I think that's why I feel out of control so much of the time which leads to feelings of anxiety and being overwhelmed. I am trying to be better at cutting myself some slack. I am working on realizing I do a lot of unnecessary things. So now I need to move into days of structure where I feel a sense of accomplishment, having found time for things that are important.
ideas anyone??
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Nashville Star
Here is a huge shout out to my awesome sister, Brooke, who was just named "Best of Nashville" in the children's cake division. She is an incredibly talented artist, extremely hard worker, and devoted mother to a fiesty two-year old, who is teaching snotty-nosed three year olds by day and slaving in the kitchen at night, whipping out amazing and delicious creations unlike any I've seen before.
I always make the mistake of calling her the night before one of the kid's birthdays and asking her for ideas for their cake. She easily tosses out 5 million suggestions and I always end up crying. It is so interesting how some things come naturally to some and so totally disastrous to others.... My kids all beg for Aunt Brooke's cakes and it's difficult to explain why she just can't swing by the party, cake in hand. Oh how I wish she could!
I copied the review/article written about her cakes in the Nashville Scene Magazine:
Best Kids' Birthday-Cake Designer
Brooke O'Dell, Ice This
If you ever have a child in school with Brooke O'Dell's kid, heed this warning: Never, ever go head-to-head with Brooke over a homemade birthday cake. No matter what double-chocolate Diego or red velvet Spiderman you bake, it will not be as delicious or as creative as hers, and will just waste time and egg yolks on something that comes so naturally and happily to Brooke that you should have asked her to make your cake in the first place. Buttercream, fondant and whimsy are the tools of her decadent trade, and the end result is an edible work of art. —CARRINGTON FOX
I can't find the picture of the cake, but you'll know it when you see it. It's a Matisse... yea, that Matisse. The famous French artist who's works sell for millions. Too bad Brooke's cakes aren't selling for millions.... yet.
I love you little sis. Proud of you! Remember me when you are famous!
http://www.nashvillescene.com/bestof/2008/award/best-kids-birthday-cake-designer-87630/
I always make the mistake of calling her the night before one of the kid's birthdays and asking her for ideas for their cake. She easily tosses out 5 million suggestions and I always end up crying. It is so interesting how some things come naturally to some and so totally disastrous to others.... My kids all beg for Aunt Brooke's cakes and it's difficult to explain why she just can't swing by the party, cake in hand. Oh how I wish she could!
I copied the review/article written about her cakes in the Nashville Scene Magazine:
Best Kids' Birthday-Cake Designer
Brooke O'Dell, Ice This
If you ever have a child in school with Brooke O'Dell's kid, heed this warning: Never, ever go head-to-head with Brooke over a homemade birthday cake. No matter what double-chocolate Diego or red velvet Spiderman you bake, it will not be as delicious or as creative as hers, and will just waste time and egg yolks on something that comes so naturally and happily to Brooke that you should have asked her to make your cake in the first place. Buttercream, fondant and whimsy are the tools of her decadent trade, and the end result is an edible work of art. —CARRINGTON FOX
I can't find the picture of the cake, but you'll know it when you see it. It's a Matisse... yea, that Matisse. The famous French artist who's works sell for millions. Too bad Brooke's cakes aren't selling for millions.... yet.
I love you little sis. Proud of you! Remember me when you are famous!
http://www.nashvillescene.com/bestof/2008/award/best-kids-birthday-cake-designer-87630/
Thursday, October 16, 2008
homemade
I am queen of homemade gifts. I enjoy giving gifts and when I can delight someone with something made by my own hands, it is extremely satisfying.
I recently read a friend's blog who was pushing for a "$100 Holiday", or something similar. It gave me the idea to blog about what I make, or have made, for friends and family through the years. God knows we live on a tight budget. Our gifts are simple and inexpensive, more out of necessity than desire. God also knows the tantrums I have when I wait until the last minute to make everyone in the family a tree skirt... it's not pretty.
So here are a few ideas to "cheap out" your Christmas giving. I hand over these ideas a bit unwillingly. Selfishly, I like to think I am the only one who has had these great ideas. I also like the illusion that I came up with all of them alone. But my good friends know that I am a follower of Martha, an avid reader of craft books and magazines (so much that I actually take photos of pictures in books), a lover of retro things, and shameless copier.
most of these ideas are relatively inexpensive, but require time. I will try to give a ROUGH estimated cost for materials... assuming you have to buy everything.
$2-3 love sacs (9x7 fabric bags filled with rice, rosemary, and lavendar and sown closed. You can freeze them or heat them in the microwave to warm toes or beds.)
$.50 mini love sacs (same as above except much smaller to fit inside coat pockets to warm up little hands)
$4 bean bag game (fabric bag holding 10 small bean bags- 5 in one fabric and 5 in another)
$3 crayon holders (fabric rolls or aprons to keep crayons organized)
$6 Tutus- little tulle ballerina skirts
$1-2.50 magic wands- dowel rod with a decoration on top or even ribbon attached- decorated however you choose
$10-12 tree skirts- I have done patchwork (great use offabric scraps or felt)
$5-6 table runners- felt with holiday scene- my sister gave me one and I love it!
$2-10 (make a bunch at a time) hair clips, bows, neclaces
$3-12 Books read aloud and burn to cd- give them both. I buy a bunch of books for not much at our local goodwill. Most of them are near perfect shape.
$4-7 paper mache or wooden boxes from hobby lobby- paint them or modge podge them.
$2-3 recycled formula, pringles, peanut cardboard tins... get three coordinating papers, but them to fit three diffent size tins, hot glue them on and label them as "save, spend, and share", cut a small slit in the lid and voila! a great money management lesson for small chldren.
picture blocks- no details on this one as many will get them this year. I will take pictures later of the finished products
$.50 tooth fairy pillows
$2 embroidered tea towels
varies homemade jams, salsas, breads, treats, cookies, breads... anything!
$3-4 bookmarks- pretty ribbons with a silver charm attached.
$5-6 aprons- choose a fabulous fabric and get to cutting. attache ribbon for neck and waist ties.
$2 snow globes- recycled glass jars, small ornaments, water, glycerin, and glitter...
that's all I can think of for now... I know the list sounds overwhelming for those of you who are none-sewers. But, I rarely use anything other than a straight stitch and have never installed a zipper or button hole. More people than you think have a sewing machine sitting idle somewhere in their catch-all rooms and probably wouldn't mind your borrowing it. And most of us have someone in our lives who sews or quilts... raid their fabric scraps and save even more money.
If you don't paint, don't sew, don't worry. You can still use a glue gun and that will allow you to do a ton!
I will try to upload pics of some of these soon. Until then, please share your ideas too. I love a good craft. Felt is my friend- and chocolate too.
update
so many things have happened in the last month. Back from Scotland. wonderful.
completed my first craft show. exhausting. and now I am out at my in-laws house as they have left the country and we are the hired house sitters. very official.
I have been crafting and crafting and as I work, my mind spins. lots to say. my spirit is weary, but in a good way. I have been creating and working and while my fingers are busy, my back aching, I am thinking through what my spirit is whispering in my heart.
I have been brought to my knees many times this last month, over joy and sadness. There is a lot of both out there, swirling and sloshing about. I think of my own sorrows and how it is rooted itself in my thoughts and moods. There are many dark days, filled with unknowns and doubts. I think of what prayers have been offered and what tears have spilled down my cheeks and I wonder where God is when I need Him. So many people have so many opinions: foods to avoid, supplements to take, scriptures to post all through my house and say aloud over Jack; prayers to pray and saints to hang in his room. Thanks for all the advice. But really, I am weary of it. It just adds to my frustration and feelings of guilt. What have I done or not done that would have brought healing to my baby? I know people mean well, but it seems absurd to me to offer advice like this to a mother who has prayed the prayers and read the scriptures and already wonders why I don't hear answers and see wholeness. There are times I wonder if his troubles and God's lack of intervention in the way I request is a test for me, or a punishment. My sins have fallen on my child, unfairly.
This situation recalls the feelings I had growing up. I heard that that my salvation isn't a result of my good works, yet I lived in mortal fear of damnation because of my imperfections. As if my salvation would be yanked from me because I ran a stop sign or called my sister a name. That because I made a screw up, God was just waiting to pounce and throw me into the fire. That I would be punished, even today, for my sins committed yesterday. And if I could pull myself together and live blamelessly, I would be granted favor and rewards.
enough of this for now.
Jack is doing better. He is walking. He is running and he is jumping. He tires on long walks and his feet are stiff in the evenings. He is still highly medicated. He still needs prayers, reminding God of a precious, blonde-headed pistol who needs his body freed from arthritis.
completed my first craft show. exhausting. and now I am out at my in-laws house as they have left the country and we are the hired house sitters. very official.
I have been crafting and crafting and as I work, my mind spins. lots to say. my spirit is weary, but in a good way. I have been creating and working and while my fingers are busy, my back aching, I am thinking through what my spirit is whispering in my heart.
I have been brought to my knees many times this last month, over joy and sadness. There is a lot of both out there, swirling and sloshing about. I think of my own sorrows and how it is rooted itself in my thoughts and moods. There are many dark days, filled with unknowns and doubts. I think of what prayers have been offered and what tears have spilled down my cheeks and I wonder where God is when I need Him. So many people have so many opinions: foods to avoid, supplements to take, scriptures to post all through my house and say aloud over Jack; prayers to pray and saints to hang in his room. Thanks for all the advice. But really, I am weary of it. It just adds to my frustration and feelings of guilt. What have I done or not done that would have brought healing to my baby? I know people mean well, but it seems absurd to me to offer advice like this to a mother who has prayed the prayers and read the scriptures and already wonders why I don't hear answers and see wholeness. There are times I wonder if his troubles and God's lack of intervention in the way I request is a test for me, or a punishment. My sins have fallen on my child, unfairly.
This situation recalls the feelings I had growing up. I heard that that my salvation isn't a result of my good works, yet I lived in mortal fear of damnation because of my imperfections. As if my salvation would be yanked from me because I ran a stop sign or called my sister a name. That because I made a screw up, God was just waiting to pounce and throw me into the fire. That I would be punished, even today, for my sins committed yesterday. And if I could pull myself together and live blamelessly, I would be granted favor and rewards.
enough of this for now.
Jack is doing better. He is walking. He is running and he is jumping. He tires on long walks and his feet are stiff in the evenings. He is still highly medicated. He still needs prayers, reminding God of a precious, blonde-headed pistol who needs his body freed from arthritis.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
day o' beauty
the days have flown by...
I began the day with a drink made by my new favorite barista. Of course it helps that it is brought to me at bedside, made to order. I have been waking each morning to daylight peering through the blinds and breakfast in bed. And sweet baby Lewis to greet me with good morning romps and begs for food.
This morning we took off quite early for a bit of relaxation time. We headed north to Peterhead, Scotland, just on the northeastern coastline. We passed through acres of farmland, sprawling green landscape with ancient stone houses littering the fields. It was a wet, foggy morning and it took me by surprise when we rounded a bend and saw the North Sea rolling in. R grew up in Peterhead. I caught my breath as we pulled in and were greeted by an old, brilliant lighthouse just a stone's throw from his doorstep. It was magnificent.
We dropped off sweet Lewis with grandmother and raced back to spa we had passed on the way up. R and I each had a massage, facial, and pedicure, a quick swim in the pool and yummy lunch.
I had warned R that I always, always cry during or just following a massage. And to put if off, I had the facial first and then the massage. But, surprisingly, I lost it following the facial and before the massage...
here's how it went:
I had made it up in mind to take full advantage of this rare treat. I wanted to pay particular attention to my breathing and body. A few minutes into the treatment, I began long, deep breaths. Gradually I put a mantra with each intake and exhalation.
IN relax
OUT goodbye tension
IN relax
OUT goodbye sadness
IN peace and happiness
OUT tightness
IN joy
OUT anxiety
IN grace
OUT failure
IN thanksgiving
OUT loneliness
IN healing and wholeness
OUT regrets
IN friendship and love
OUT grief and pain
IN grace
IN peace
IN love
IN freedom
IN freedom
IN freedom
...and soon these words in my mind became like a fountain, welling from deep in my gut and bursting up out of my head and running down my face and hands. It was like I was a child joyously caught in an unexpected shower and all I could do was smile and close my eyes and live in it, spin in it, dance in it, washing me, cleansing me, filling me. With the exhale I watched from my mind's eye the banners of sadness, guilt, worry, regret, being caught in a fierce wind, pulled from the pole and blown away. I would whisper 'goodbye' to each of the words and return to the fountain.
Bless the poor therapist who walked in on the wreck I had become within a matter of 4 minutes. She left me tranquil and I hit my emotional tantrum. I think I was quick to recover though which I think she appreciated very much.
What a glorious and complex thing our mind is. I was thinking as I lay on the table how she must have thought I was in a coma... so evenly breathing, the hint of smile crossing my lips, so relaxed and still. Serene by all appearances. And yet, inside, a battle was calmly and silently raging. Opposing sides attempting to stake claim on open territory. The dirty and evil threatening a hostile take over verses the sweet and holy seedlings of life, struggling to send roots into our heart's rich, yet uncultivated soil.
I was reminded during the massage that the most relaxing massage motion is the opposing movement of two hands: moving towards tailbone and neck or outward, toward shoulder blades. Likewise, between the warring sides of the heart, in the middle, where you stand and listen or you stand and cover your ears and hum, there is clarity and stillness. There is light. There is healing.
I began the day with a drink made by my new favorite barista. Of course it helps that it is brought to me at bedside, made to order. I have been waking each morning to daylight peering through the blinds and breakfast in bed. And sweet baby Lewis to greet me with good morning romps and begs for food.
This morning we took off quite early for a bit of relaxation time. We headed north to Peterhead, Scotland, just on the northeastern coastline. We passed through acres of farmland, sprawling green landscape with ancient stone houses littering the fields. It was a wet, foggy morning and it took me by surprise when we rounded a bend and saw the North Sea rolling in. R grew up in Peterhead. I caught my breath as we pulled in and were greeted by an old, brilliant lighthouse just a stone's throw from his doorstep. It was magnificent.
We dropped off sweet Lewis with grandmother and raced back to spa we had passed on the way up. R and I each had a massage, facial, and pedicure, a quick swim in the pool and yummy lunch.
I had warned R that I always, always cry during or just following a massage. And to put if off, I had the facial first and then the massage. But, surprisingly, I lost it following the facial and before the massage...
here's how it went:
I had made it up in mind to take full advantage of this rare treat. I wanted to pay particular attention to my breathing and body. A few minutes into the treatment, I began long, deep breaths. Gradually I put a mantra with each intake and exhalation.
IN relax
OUT goodbye tension
IN relax
OUT goodbye sadness
IN peace and happiness
OUT tightness
IN joy
OUT anxiety
IN grace
OUT failure
IN thanksgiving
OUT loneliness
IN healing and wholeness
OUT regrets
IN friendship and love
OUT grief and pain
IN grace
IN peace
IN love
IN freedom
IN freedom
IN freedom
...and soon these words in my mind became like a fountain, welling from deep in my gut and bursting up out of my head and running down my face and hands. It was like I was a child joyously caught in an unexpected shower and all I could do was smile and close my eyes and live in it, spin in it, dance in it, washing me, cleansing me, filling me. With the exhale I watched from my mind's eye the banners of sadness, guilt, worry, regret, being caught in a fierce wind, pulled from the pole and blown away. I would whisper 'goodbye' to each of the words and return to the fountain.
Bless the poor therapist who walked in on the wreck I had become within a matter of 4 minutes. She left me tranquil and I hit my emotional tantrum. I think I was quick to recover though which I think she appreciated very much.
What a glorious and complex thing our mind is. I was thinking as I lay on the table how she must have thought I was in a coma... so evenly breathing, the hint of smile crossing my lips, so relaxed and still. Serene by all appearances. And yet, inside, a battle was calmly and silently raging. Opposing sides attempting to stake claim on open territory. The dirty and evil threatening a hostile take over verses the sweet and holy seedlings of life, struggling to send roots into our heart's rich, yet uncultivated soil.
I was reminded during the massage that the most relaxing massage motion is the opposing movement of two hands: moving towards tailbone and neck or outward, toward shoulder blades. Likewise, between the warring sides of the heart, in the middle, where you stand and listen or you stand and cover your ears and hum, there is clarity and stillness. There is light. There is healing.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
unreachable
Hey all.
my email is not working properly here so I am using an alternate address... if you want to email me directly try gingeramyteague@gmail.com and I will get it. Since I can't access my email I don't have anyone's individual addresses either. So, KATHY, email me there. OK?
love
A
my email is not working properly here so I am using an alternate address... if you want to email me directly try gingeramyteague@gmail.com and I will get it. Since I can't access my email I don't have anyone's individual addresses either. So, KATHY, email me there. OK?
love
A
Saturday, September 13, 2008
take me away
i'm here. i'm safe. i am warm and cozy and gaining weight by the minute.
besides a quick dash to the airport at the last minute and a minor run-in with immigration, i am here, safe and warm. To beat the arrival of Hurricane Ike in Houston, I left a day earlier than planned. Which means I left a whole lot of stuff at home. Thankfully, I made it with clean unmentionables, books, sweaters, and whatever else that didn't make it, can be borrowed from R and R.
Today I slept until 10am (which never happens, but keep in mind it was 4am to my body so it doesn't sound that indulgent, does it?) I had a leisurely breakfast of buttery crumpets and tea, showered, read, cooked, and then had a fabulous espresso and chocolate biscuit.
We are going to the movie tonight. And tomorrow, we are going to a nearby castle for a 'Festival of Pipes'- no silly, not those pipes... bag pipes. kilts. moors. friends. heaven...
I will post regularly and hopefully with pictures. miss you Mr T and wish you were here with a kilt on too.
besides a quick dash to the airport at the last minute and a minor run-in with immigration, i am here, safe and warm. To beat the arrival of Hurricane Ike in Houston, I left a day earlier than planned. Which means I left a whole lot of stuff at home. Thankfully, I made it with clean unmentionables, books, sweaters, and whatever else that didn't make it, can be borrowed from R and R.
Today I slept until 10am (which never happens, but keep in mind it was 4am to my body so it doesn't sound that indulgent, does it?) I had a leisurely breakfast of buttery crumpets and tea, showered, read, cooked, and then had a fabulous espresso and chocolate biscuit.
We are going to the movie tonight. And tomorrow, we are going to a nearby castle for a 'Festival of Pipes'- no silly, not those pipes... bag pipes. kilts. moors. friends. heaven...
I will post regularly and hopefully with pictures. miss you Mr T and wish you were here with a kilt on too.
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