In honor of the generations of creative women who came before me~
It started with vintage fabric, trims and sewing supplies handed down and gifted to me from both my own and my partner’s mothers, grandmothers and even great-grandmothers.
Some of these materials had been waiting to be made into something since before I was born.
I was inspired to combine them with things I had in my studio, and see what I could bring to life.
It was a lot of fun playing and experimenting, and I learned a lot in the process.
Both sewing and patience are hard.
The women who came before me probably would not have considered themselves artists, or even creatives, but they most certainly were.
Their talent, skills and hard work turned fabric into clothing for people they loved. Since this was common and taught in the times they lived, they might not have even realized it was a gift.
Now, these are lost arts~
And I mentioned that sewing is harder than it looks, right?
Cheers to the gifted craftswomen of the past who knew how to make it work with what they had on hand~ and they managed to dress fabulously while doing it!
PS. My models ROCKED IT!
September is here! I was recently enlightened that this marks the official start of the “ber” months~ although I’m not feeling much in the way of “Brrrr” in my toasty triple-digit corner of Northern California.
But change is in the wind, whether I’m feeling it or not.
Truth be told, I haven’t been feeling much at all lately. Or, I have, but just a lot more bleak and blah than I’d like to be feeling.
Despite my myriad of blessings, I’ve been finding myself in quite a funk of late. I don’t particularly care for labels and I personally try to avoid seeking them in any and all healthcare settings (this is not a recommendation, just my tendency).
I have no doubt that I could get labeled if I were to seek such a thing, but the mere thought of it has my brow furrowed, eyes narrowed and jaw locked. It puts my whole body in a defensive stance ready to strike back with some sort of, “I don’t have problems~ YOU have problems!!” to anyone foolish enough to try to help with a diagnosis
Clearly, that’s a ridiculous response that lacks any sort of wit or intelligence, so I just avoid the situation.
But, if I were to give a label or two to what I’ve been feeling in the last few weeks, I might guess it would fall somewhere in the categories of depression and or anxiety.
Everything, ok maybe not every single thing, but so many things just seemed so. Freaking. Hard. Not only was the effort required exhausting, but a good deal of the time, it all felt somewhat pointless as well.
I tried hard to hang on to my smile and see the light, but truth be told, it was feeling pretty dang dark.
Whatever you call it, it really sucked and was kicking my arse for more than a couple of days.
I’m what some people would consider a woman of extreme moods, and I do feel things intensely~ whatever it is, joy or grief, I’m typically all in.
So, this wasn’t an entirely new experience for me, and I tried throwing all the things that I know might help at it~ time in nature, moving my body, vitamins, rest, laughter in the form of mindless comedy, talking with friends, etc.
One thing that came to me as semi-ironic, but in a sad way, is that we’re told that when we’re feeling really down, we should tell someone.
There’s been a big shift in focus to remove the stigma around mental health in recent years, which is great because if we’re being honest, we’re all at least a little crazy.
But the thing you need to be prepared for is that when you tell someone, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to feel any better.
You might even feel worse because our friends are probably not trained in how to deal with our wacko emotions. There might be an awkward silence or wide-eyed stares of what looks a bit like horror~ and it’s aimed at you.
If you just opened up some vulnerable part of yourself, you might feel awfully exposed and then think you need to start explaining to make it so you don’t look or sound like such a nut job. That might not make it better at all, but could feel like you’re digging a hole, which you’re at the bottom of, too weak to get out, while everyone who now knows can peer down at you in sadness.
You can’t fault anyone for not knowing what to do with you when you don’t even know what to do with yourself, and I agree it's better to tell someone than to hold it all in.
But, it’s also good to know that it might not be the quick fix you’re hoping for. We humans are more complex than that.
A few times, I looked up from my own wallowing, and saw friends dealing with waaaaaaaay heavier stuff than what I was juggling, much of which was quite frankly in my own head, although that didn’t make it feel any less sucky. This both put my own situation in perspective, as well as made me feel a bit more like a whiner~ good with the not so good, I guess.
Anywhoo, I’m very grateful for the friends who did hear my rambling “Whoa is me with my first world problems” and ate, drank and / or lamented life with me.
Now that I’m on the upside of the extreme funk, I’m also starting to more clearly see the things that actually were the most helpful in pointing me back towards the light. It’s more than I can pull together at the moment so I’ll be sharing them in a post later this month.
I know that extreme blues are something a lot of us deal with from time to time, so it's worth talking about.
For today though, I’ll be enjoying this Labor Day being grateful for paid holidays and floating in the pool while it still feels good, because eventually, it actually will be feeling too “Brrrr” around here for that, and I’ll be lamenting the lack of sun.
I'm turning my towards thoughts of autumn and harvest, which at this moment includes a whole lotta tomatoes growing in the raised garden beds I put over my suburban front lawn. Most of them were mystery volunteers that popped up from past plantings and have thankfully asked very little of me in return for their fruit. Harvesting blessings, indeed.
And when it’s too oppressive to be in the sun, I’ll be inside sewing like a madwoman to finish the details on my collection for the Redding Fashion Week Gala coming up this Friday.
I’m going with a Vintage inspired theme based on several generations of fabrics and trims I was gifted earlier this year.
Let me tell you~ sewing is hard! I have such an appreciation for how very hard fine tailoring techniques are ~ and so much gratitude that my pieces will be seen on a runway and not getting inspected up close under the seams.
There’s a whole lotta yikes in the finishing details of these garments, but I’m proud that I’m actually doing it and learning as I go. I know what the seams should look like, and I know that I haven’t quite achieved the skill level to make it happen, but I am pulling off a collection nonetheless.
If you’re in this part of NorCal, come see the show! Tickets are available here, and there’s a bunch of other events around town throughout the following week.
And Also Mark Your Calendar~ I’m hosting the last in my series of Moonlight Art Nights at California Street Labs in Redding on Saturday, September 14th! It’s a fun way to experiment with creativity and connection in a great venue. Tickets will be on sale soon!
That’s all for today~
I hope you’re all in a good place and seeing the light! If you’re able to spread the light, even better~ please love and support each other wherever you can.
I'd love to hear what helps you find the light when you're in a dark place, so please share in the comments below, or drop me a personal message.
Best wishes for a blessed harvest season!
Hello My Friend and Happy August!
It’s hotter than heck where I live right now, and even though the children in my neighborhood will be sad eyed as their school vacation ends any minute, I’m still feeling full on summer mode myself.
While it’s a bummer for them to end their freedom fest, I’m grateful myself that I’ll soon be able to visit public places with less of the actual public in them soon.
For now though, I’m feeling like it’s a good time for some serious lounging. The oppressive heat turns me into a semi nocturnal creature who can only venture out near or after dark, except to submerge myself in large bodies of water.
Swimming is by far one of my favorite forms of movement as there is zero sweating involved, and in my mind, I can actually feel graceful and buoyant floating in the water.
(I realize I may not actually look graceful in the least, but that’s why there are no mirrors at the lake~ so I can live in the illusion of my mind that tells me I look exactly like a solo synchronized swimmer or aqua ballerina rather than a full grown woman flailing joyfully in the middle of the lake in a life vest.)
Speaking of the lake, last summer, I had only gone there one time before everything surrounding my beloved and favorite place caught on fire. Even after the fire was out, the skies were so smoky the health department warned to stay inside. Everything was covered in ash. The hills, the trees, homes, pets, wildlife and even people were in that ash.
I drive by the burnt land at least once a month for my work, and I’ve watched the land trying to heal. People will try to tell you that nature is resilient, and it is, but it doesn’t really make me feel any better.
A year later, there is some green amongst the black and brown, but what I see is brush and poison oak~ not trees that will give shade or relief from the scorching sun anytime soon.
While my heart aches to look at the land, and probably will for some time, getting in the water reminds me that I love this lake just the same. She’s still beautiful, scars and all, and I’m so grateful that she makes summer in this place a bazillion times more bearable than it would be without her. (She offers beauty and wonders in all the seasons, but it feels like we need her the most in the summer heat)
Hopefully, I’ll get lots more lounging time with her this August as I recover from all the vacationing of July.
We’ve had a house full of various combinations of our kids for much of the summer so far, and it’s been the busy kind of wonderful where you go, go, go.
Since the kids were on their vacations, and I believe fiercely in the importance of vacationing, we crammed in a ridiculous amount of lakes, mountains, waterfalls, hikes, swims, kayaking and even a few days of big trees and coastline.
The only thing is that we adults weren’t actually on vacation, so we did all that vacationing on top of working. It was great to explore with everyone- and now we’re exhausted and ready for a vacation from all the vacationing.
Oh, I also held my first Moonlight Art Circle Night last month, and it was loads of fun! 10 women under a big moon at a great venue getting creative with watercolors and words~ and chocolate and wine too.
It was one of those get an idea, jump in and fly by the seat of your pants things and I learned a ton. I'll be hosting 2 more in the next few months, so if you're in Upstate California and are interested, I'd love to have you join us!
Heading into August, I’m envisioning days in relaxi-taxi mode. I can work immersed in water or floating on my giant inflatable unicorn with my SweetHeart, and an icy beverage. Some books, a journal and sketchbook and snacks would be good for when my work is done too. Oh and stargazing too, which is what hot August nights are for.
Which reminds me...it was a hot August weekend 6 years ago when I unsuspectingly met this cute guy at a Homeschool Conference. I never, ever, ever could have predicted the twists and turns of the life that followed.
It’s been a wild and wonderful ride and I’m hugely grateful for all he’s brought into my life and my kids’ lives as well. There’s no one I’d rather have in my expansive nest than that guy.
I suppose the moral of that story is to be open to receiving and that you never know what you’ll find. Even when you aren’t looking, and are in an unlikely and even ridiculous place, sometimes life will send something, or someone, your way and change things forever.
Hoping you’re open to the wonders of the rest of summer and that life brings you lots of amazing things that make you smile.
Off to lounge while I can~ Pamela
It's my birthday month, and last week I celebrated my 48th trip around the sun! Whoohoo!
I'm late in writing about it because I've been busy actually enjoying it~ which is kind of the whole point!
The beauty of the day, this year, and this stage in my life is that for the first time in my life, I pretty much just focused on following joy.
I mean, it's not like I've been chasing money or power up until this point or anything~
I've always been pretty keen on pointing towards what makes me happy,
BUT, there's this expansive sense of freedom now in knowing that I'm not actually responsible for anyone else.
I know I never actually was, but having kids can give one the illusion that you're supposed to somehow be in control~
We all know the reality is you're only in control of yourself, and in all honesty, that's a struggle in itself sometimes.
Still, the delusions of misplaced responsibility sometimes spread and you start thinking you're somehow responsible for all kinds of things, which can be frustrating, depressing and downright futile.
While my logical mind has understood that I can't control everything for years, the depths of my psyche still continued to fill with countless hours of stressing over things that I had zero control over.
Now that the kiddos have flown the coop, there's this much bigger and more obvious understanding of it on a cellular level that I can feel in my bones.
I'm Only in Charge of ME!
Coupling that with having fewer effs than ever to give about what other people think (another amazing bonus of growing) can leave a Grown Arse Woman feeling downright giddy!
I literally spent the day walking around with relieved sighs and a full toothy smile just following the joy.
I took the day off work and headed to the mountains with my SweetHeart to avoid the oppressive heat.
We browsed cute shops, and when trying on clothes, I had an epiphany-
Even though I'm physically bigger than I've ever been in my life,
I'm happier with myself and care more about my body now than I ever have in the past.
In other words, I was nice to myself as I grabbed a bigger size!!!
This is revolutionary stuff, folks!
Next, we went for not one but two hikes, and spotted dozens of late blooming wildflowers.
We not only ate cheese and chocolate, but we delighted in them.
We lounged on a beach and read and I had wine and we would have gone kayaking, but thunderstorms closed the rental shop.
I was OK avoiding electrocution, and besides, we realized the beautiful snowy mountain on the horizon was less than 20 minutes away.
So, we went up there to play too.
I've never had a beach and snow in the same birthday before, so that was pretty awesome!
As the day wound down, I realized I didn't actually want to go out to dinner, even if it was my birthday.
I wanted to watch the sun go down over water and go home to eat lobster ravioli made by my Love and with my furry friends at my feet.
And so, I did.
And it was wonderful.
Within a few days of me feeling all free from worrying about other people though, both of my kiddos texted about navigating upcoming housing changes and issues they'll be dealing with.
And I pretty much forgot that I was no longer stressing about things I couldn't control.
The good news is, I only came up with less than a half dozen "Oh NOOOOO!" scenarios before I remembered that I'm supposed to be in my new chill phase, and realized they were already asking for what they needed and figuring out the rest.
I'm definitely learning all the time, and the best I can strive for is progress, not perfection, right?
Anyhoo...Back to my Birthday~
I'm only 2 years from 50 and there's so much I'm scheming.
Society acts like growing older is supposed to suck, but for me, it's been pretty freaking awesome!
Life is Great at 48!
Here's to another year of living and learning, growing and loving, and exploring this big beautiful world!
If you enjoyed my photos and ramblings, and would like to stay in touch, sign up here:
I'd love to send goodies your way!
And wherever you are, I hope you're chasing Joy, too!
Last week, a good man was buried.
I suppose that around the world as a whole, many people were probably buried, but the one that my heart is thinking of spent more years than I know coaching kids, including my Boy Child for 4 years of basketball.
We didn’t even know Coach was sick until we found out that he’d died.
From what I understand, he didn’t have much warning either. He was diagnosed with cancer, started treatment and was dead in just a little over a month.
JUST OVER A MONTH.
And he’s gone.
Just like that.
I still haven’t really wrapped my mind around the brutal speed and sudden ending, but I can easily share how much I appreciated that man’s influence on my Boy Child.
I never would have guessed that I would have a kid who liked sports.
We’re not in the least bit athletic or sporty people. We don’t watch, play or really give the smallest bit of care towards any of them.
Except, of course, if my kids are playing. Both of my kids participated in low key community leagues as little kids, mostly so they could burn off some of their crazy wild child energy, or because a friend was playing, but by the time he reached junior high, my son wanted to play in competitive ways with the big boys.
I don’t know why or what happened. Maybe my kid got some long lost recessive genes involving muscle and speed along with some inexplicable desire to compete? I don't think it came from me, that's for sure.
I never figured it out, but like a good deal of parenting, I just tried to point them in the right direction.
We were free ranging homeschoolers at the time, and while local charters could help with classes and books and such, none offered competitive sports.
Spending life energy and time equivalent to a full-time job in a classroom for a chance to play ball didn’t seem like a worthwhile proposition when we had an otherwise good thing going.
Thankfully, through our homeschool community, we came across a small private school that opened the door by allowing other homeschoolers to participate in their team sports program.
My Boy spent the next 4 years - spanning 9th through 12th grade - as a part of the basketball team. I was continually amazed by the dedication of the other parents, but most of all, the Coach.
We went to countless games, many of them hours away on winding mountain roads to towns in the middle of nowhere on long and stormy winter nights. Coach never made a big deal or made me feel like a loser if I couldn’t drive because of work and had to send my kid with him or another family.
I found out that Coach actually lived over an hour from where the kids practiced, and in the mountains where it snowed, so he was doing many times as much driving as any of the rest of us and often in unpleasant conditions.
But he was always there. Even in the offseason, he had open gym nights so the kids could still gather and work on their skills.
I can’t imagine he was getting rich off of this endeavor, as our fees were really reasonable, even for a single mom. All I could figure was that kids getting to play sports really mattered to him.
He apparently had been doing it for decades, and from what I saw, he was unique and different from a lot of other coaches out there.
He yelled, of course, but not in a berating way like I saw other coaches do.
He was actually a good sport, which I noticed is often missing in organized athletics. I never saw him throw a giant man fit or encourage dirty play, which I witnessed more than once from other men coaching other teams.
I sometimes took the opportunity to mom-style shame those bad sport / awful role model coaches because it seemed like someone needed to point out their awful behavior, and I’m OK being that person. But, that’s another story.
Our coach treated the kids, refs, and parents with respect. He called the boys out on nonsense, had high expectations and consistently pointed them towards the importance of having a positive character. I guess those are all the things you'd want in a coach.
While he also wanted to win, you could feel the focus on the boys growing into good men.
And, grow they did- both as players who won enough of the time to make it entertaining and as young men who were refreshingly nice to be around.
We watched the team develop from being so polite they practically handed the ball to the other team and moved out the way so they could shoot, to becoming a competitive force that went a ways into the finals by my son’s Senior year.
The first season was bizarre. I’d spent 13 years telling my son to be gentle, and I suddenly found myself screaming, “Take the freaking ball!!!!”
The time when the Coach came into our lives was right around the time of my divorce. My son was in full-on early teen boy mode, and his dad was out of the country, so I was especially grateful for the male role models we had.
The private school that sponsored the team was a really conservative religious one, and I wondered in the beginning if we'd be accepted at all or be deemed unworthy sinners and my son cast out because his mother is an “unmarried woman with children” who also happens to enjoy margaritas, occasional drops and F bomb and even though I consider my self a Christian, (or perhaps because) I had to alter the statement of faith before I could sign it so that it matched my actual beliefs.
While my personal understanding of Jesus is that he hung out with, supported and defended a lot of diverse people, encouraging us to be nice to each other, rather than judgey like Pharisees, I’m well aware that not everyone sees it that way. In some circles, not everyone is welcome.
For the first couple of years, in the back of my head, I felt maybe we’d somehow slipped through the cracks and would be outed from the team for not being appropriately religious (because that thing seems to happen) but my worry was for nothing.
The wonderful thing is that we never had any issues. The other families were kind and Coach seemed to stay focused on the thing at hand- playing basketball, with character.
Despite 4 years of games, I never really grasped all the rules and was often confused about what actually constituted a foul or why the refs were or were not blowing whistles, which often felt inconsistent to my untrained eyes.
I did learn that I was very wrong in thinking basketball is a non-contact sport, and that gangly boys will grow into giant-sized young men full of testosterone and bravado who smash into each other at high speeds.
I had to pop homeopathic calming tablets whenever I remembered to bring them and was thankful that I have naturally low blood pressure, because I may have otherwise had a heart attack watching the intensity of some games.
During the last game of the finals, a sweet old grandmother sitting next to me in the stands suggested that I might do better with Valium, which I found hilarious for several reasons. One, you can never tell who might recommend prescription sedatives, and two- maybe my relaxation methods weren’t working as well as I’d hoped.
Anyhoo, the main thing for me was that it was always a safe place where I felt like my kid could go and be with other young men being mentored by older men, and that’s something that’s missing for a lot of kids.
He got discipline in working his body and his character.
What Coach offered was something that I could not have provided for my son in other ways, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
I only knew him in the capacity of coach, so that's all I can really speak for, but he sure seemed to be the kind of man who actually acted like the Jesus he worshipped.
That in and of itself felt kind of revolutionary to me.
I don’t know what will happen with the sports program now, whether someone else will step up, or whether it will end with him.
I do know that we were really lucky to have had those 4 years with him.
Coach showed me a nice side of both sports and conservative religion.
I tried and can only hope I was able to express it while he was alive, but thanks, Coach! Your steadiness, dedication, and commitment to the kids made more of a difference than you could probably imagine and you will be missed.
Aside from the kids, you helped make my intro into being a sporty team mom as smooth as it could be for a rogue non-player like myself.
I can only hope more people get the kind of positive experience with sports and adolescence that we did.
I know your family and community have expressed their faith in what comes after death, and my wish is just that your heart is happy and that maybe you can play ball again.
Thanks Again Coach. You were a true mentor and a good man. I hope you know that the world is a better place for the work you did here.
For those of you who are alive to read this, if you happen to coach kids, thank you so much for that! Please be nice and focus on character too.
And, if you're a parent whose kids have a coach, please thank them. No matter what you do for your day job, coaching kids is work that matters.
Thank God for people like you!
Rest in Peace Coach Rust.
Last month, I had the most human-infested nature experience in my life.
It was amazing and awe inspiring~ full of ooohs and aaahs.
It was also full of more time sitting in traffic than I'd spent in 2019 altogether up to that point.
Anyone who has been to Yosemite... and also been to other places where you can actually experience the natural world without a bazillion other people next to you, well, you can probably understand what I'm talking about.
Yosemite is like one of the Disneylands of the National Parks.
Most of the time, nature is my retreat from peopling, but in going to Yosemite, I knew the two of them would be intertwined quite deeply.
I'd found a pre-season deal on Travel Zoo for a cabin just outside of the park and chosen the last weekend it was available, hoping that the weather wouldn't be freezing and that some combination of our combined offspring could join us.
We scored on beautiful weather and two out of six kids were available.
I'd only been through Yosemite once, my Partner hadn't been in years, and the kids had never gone.
I LOVE exploring new places, and was pleasantly surprised that the kids were excited to spend a weekend adventuring with us, despite the known likelihood of spotty wifi.
My previous trip went around the valley rather than into it, and while I thought that it was pretty and all, I live near beautiful mountains, so I didn't really grasp what the big deal was.
This time, I got it~ Holy Cow~ those valley views were spectacular.
I can only imagine how wondrous it must have been to gaze at all the granite and water before all the people and cars and buses invaded.
Speaking of which, if you hear that it's a good idea to go early in the day and take the shuttle buses, it's no joke.
For real- driving there was lame.
The number of cars trying to navigate the village area was absurd. We were literally stuck in traffic for probably 2 hours to go less than 5 miles. Thank Goodness my SweetHeart is a patient man and he was driving, so no one had to endure my Road Rage.
Also, we had snacks, and the views were lovely.
I got out several times to walk ahead and move my legs since my butt was falling asleep.
I've never really experienced "nature" in such a way where I could actually get around 10 times faster on foot because there were bumper to bumper cars.
But, being surrounded by gorgeousness made it better, at least
Had there been some sort of natural disaster where we needed to move quickly though,
say a wildfire or Zombie Apocalypse,
well, it would be mayhem and most people would be toast.
These scenarios in my mind always give me a moment of gratitude and hope that the early homeschooling years of playing with swords and bows & arrows all day instead of sitting in classrooms would give our pack an advantage, but who knows...
Anyhoo, seriously, if you go to Yosemite, for the love of all things holy,
take the freaking bus.
You'll be really glad you did.
This was at the end of April, so I can't even imagine how much more crowded and difficult to maneuver it would have been during summer.
Frankly, that sounds like it would kind of kill the joy in the whole thing for me.
It was a Saturday as well, and one of the first sunny and warmish weekends of the year, so we clearly weren't the only ones out enjoying it.
It made me look back fondly on the days when mid-week excursions were easier to pull off (and started causing me to scheme how to get back to more of that)Eventually, we made our way out of the madness and managed to park the car. We had to walk on a narrow road where cars had just gotten their speed back after being stuck at a standstill, so that was a little nerve-wracking, but thankfully no one was squished or maimed.
Our wet winter had made the waterfalls ginormous. Every direction there was another one, too, and they were all explosively flowing ~ no little trickles at all, just full force thousands of gallons of water raging over rock.
When you got close, it was like the waterfalls made their own climate zone with wind whipping and so much mist it was pretty much raining.
Despite my preference for being around fewer humans when I'm in the outdoors (or indoors, really, most of the time at least) I was in complete awe of the showy displays of the power, force, and beauty of nature.
So. Much. Wow.
We came back to our cabin tired and grateful for a real kitchen and a shower that we didn't have to share. Since it was such a short trip, we didn't get to play with all the amenities on the property, which was really an RV park with cabins and yurts, mini golf, volleyball and the like.
We did get to walk along the creek and enjoy a nice fire.
It was a big step up from camping, but a ways below glamping- a good fit for a fast trip with teens.
Also, all the tent sites I saw in the actual park were packed in tight, something like an apartment building with fabric walls. That kind of thing makes me feel like I'd need to be medicated to get anywhere near relaxed, which is not what I expect to need on a camping trip.
So, the next day we hit the road to check out the southern section of the park, which was delightfully less populated. At least in the morning.
But by the time we exited the southern entrance just around noon, we could see crowds forming lines there as well.
I pondered how many people in the crowds had only ever experienced this version of nature where you waited in line and contended with so many other people and cars and trash.
I imagine for some, this is as "wild" as they will ever get, which is sad in a way, but I'm glad they at least get that.
We all need nature.
It made me thankful for the whole National Parks system and the people who want to actually make sure there is still some nature for people to experience, because even if there are other humans everyplace the eye can see, it was still pretty magnificent.
Most of all, I was thankful to live in a place where I can see nature on a regular basis without so many people or cars or trash.
On the way home, we came across this random obelisk monument in a tired-seeming small town with farms and boarded up shops.
I just so happened to have read about it on Atlas Obscura while looking for oddities on the trip.
Basically, we learned that a wealthy man chose to spend a bunch of his money to have himself memorialized in this way when he died. Some locals asked if the money could go to the library in his honor, but the family apparently said, "Naaaah- what he wanted was a huge tower in the middle of nowhere." And so, he got it.
I know it was his money and his choice and all, but I'm pretty sure books and literacy would've been a more meaningful legacy...whatever...
Anyhoo, all in all, we had a lovely time exploring despite the 12 million other people who had the same idea.
These kids are getting to be great travelers and I'm looking forward to the next adventure.
This Mother’s Day will be my first one without having any offspring living at home!
That in and of itself it a strange thing to even contemplate.
I could stay home and lament, that I miss my kiddos, but instead, my SweetHeart and I are headed to a Massage Retreat in Ashland where I plan to relax and enjoy celebrating that I raised some awesome young adults.
In the parenting world, we talk a lot about raising kids, but the real goal is to raise grown ups. It helps, if we ourselves know how to be grownups in the process, but that's not always the case.
Holidays like Mother’s Day can open up all kinds of stuff, getting us thinking about and over evaluating how we were mothered and how we mothered our own kids.
Sometimes, there’s this sense of idolatry, especially when our mother’s are no longer with us, as though she was the Saintly Mother Mary whose every act was of charity and love.
Sometimes, families are estranged and there’s deep sadness and grief if we didn’t get what we felt we needed.
The thing that bugs me most, is that often, there’s this glorification of martyrdom coupled with a ridiculously high expectation of perfection when it comes to Motherhood.
I just have to laugh at that craziness.
Mother’s are humans, for the love of God. Where did we get the idea they’re supposed to be perfect?
Maybe the best Mother’s Day gift we could universally give each other is a break?
The one thing that I think is true, no matter what, is that we all mess up to some degree, at least some of the time.
Some are more patient, (not so much me) some are more nurturing (eh, sort of, maybe, sometimes) and some bring glittery crafts or carry healthy snacks (heck yeah! That's me!)
Sadly, some really didn’t really have the skills they needed to mother in the first place and so sometimes other people have to step in and other times people will have to figure out how to mother themselves in some ways because no one ever did.
I believe most of us are genuinely trying though, but none of us is going to be perfect.
If we’re going to be honest, all our moms messed up in some ways, and we messed up in others and if our kids become parents, well... they’ll likely do a bit of messing up as well.
Hopefully, we keep learning and growing as a species and are able to objectively look at what worked and didn’t work for us, and try to do better with that knowledge.
Hopefully, we can acknowledge our mess ups and say sorry.
And hopefully, we can forgive~ ourselves and our moms too.
Mostly, I hope we can say thanks to whoever helped mother us. If you haven't already, and you're able, just go hug your mom!
I hope your heart is full, the appreciation for you is abundant and someone brings you flowers and good food, and best yet, cleans up all the messes for you this weekend!
Happy Mother’s Day!
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Did I mention that while I was on my social media sabbatical, my Boy Child turned 19?!?!
He’s giant and funny and kind and running at life full speed ahead. He’s chasing all kinds of dreams, some of which make no sense to me at all, and I’m a super proud mama.
He came home at the last minute for his birthday, and it was great to hear him laughing and being a goof. My only complaint was that he (or one of his friends) put a Sprite bottle in the trash instead of the recycling. I mean, what were they, raised by beasts?
Kids these days….
Do they not know the plight of overburdened waste facilities and the awful mess made of God’s Green Earth by the last few generations of throw away consumer culture?!?!
Oh, they also left a cap off one of my Micron art pens. Sheesh…
As I capped my half dried out pen, I laughed and laughed like a madwoman. The lesson here is to count your blessings, my friend!
And also, if you're anything like me, you might occasionally need to laugh at yourself, pull the stick out of your butt, and quit rolling your snooty eyeballs.
If the only blatant misdoings of a 19 year old celebrating his birthday was a recycling faux pax and a dried out pen, I think things are going to be OK.
If any other mischief ensued, it was kept on the down low- making my life really easy, which I really appreciate. (But, of course, I'm sure the angelic youngsters did nothing)
Mostly, I appreciate these kids (even if they forgot to put the obviously recyclable bottle in the equally obvious recycling crate.)
I’m grateful that they like to come home and for mature conversations and late night laughter.
And I’m thankful that I get to see them head out to make their ways in the world while I cheer them on, offer flax seed infused brownies (because fiber is important and their colons will thank me later) and shout for all to hear “Make good choices!!!”
Earth Day came and went while I was on my Social Media Sabbatical for Lent, but I wanted to share some thoughts before the month is completely over.
The shirt on your back may not seem to be connected to the state of the planet, but really it is. I’m wearing a Wonder Woman pajama top as I type this, and as cute as it is, the process of getting it made and to a store where I could buy it for less than $15 probably wasn’t a good or healthy one for the people involved or God’s Green Earth as a whole.
Fashion is more than a way to express yourself or a way to try to fit in. It’s not typically thought of as something serious, but it’s actually a powerful economic force that has generated more money than top automakers some years.
It’s also, unfortunately, a major source of pollution, waste and human rights abuses. Cheap clothing that’s made by exploited people and falls apart is the norm, and when you stop to think about it, well, it feels kind of gross.
Check out this for a glimpse of the True Cost
I’m happy to say that there are people and companies who are trying to shift the polluted tides on the fashion industry and even if they’re baby steps, they have potential to grow into greater change for good.
Since I’m all about trying to focus my choices on how they make me feel, I’m looking for better options than the cheap, albeit cute, crap, which isn’t the easiest thing for a bargain hunter like me.
I don’t have a complete solution, but am definitely trying to be more conscious about where and how I spend my money because that after all is a vote. The more I’ve been open and paying attention, the more cool things I’ve discovered.
For the last 2 years, I've helped coordinate and hosted an Eco Fashion Show at the Whole Earth and Watershed Festival in Redding, California. We showcase both students and professionals designs including:
Trashion (making wearable art from things that were used and headed into a waste bin)
Upcycling (creating new one of a kind pieces using parts from existing used garments) and
Sustainable Fashion (made with fabrics, dyes or processes that are easier on the earth)
It’s both a lot of work and a really rewarding opportunity to share creativity and ingenuity in the community. People come up with and create so many fun things!
This year, I got more than I bargained for in terms of responsibility, and we had lots of last-minute issues, dropouts, weather forecasts threatening thunderstorms on our outdoor show and more. In all honesty, this led to a few minor meltdowns at home complete with wailing and gnashing of teeth and a desire to run off and call the whole thing quits.
Fortunately, the director of the entire festival is an awesome woman who doesn’t really let you bail on your responsibilities. I pulled myself together before going public, put on a big “on with the show” smile and managed to fool the people who participated into actually thinking I was calm and organized! Ha!
Seriously, the show was great in the end, and I appreciated all the contributions, from the hardworking kids and their parents, to the last minute models and designers who jumped in and shined.
Hopefully, we opened a few eyeballs and minds to considering different ways of creatively re-using things, avoiding fast fashion and supporting local artists. I know we had some proud and inspired kids, so that made all the work worth it.
It’s also great to see other companies (fashion and otherwise) making choices to do business in cleaner and less destructive ways.
Like this Dutch company that has come up with a way to dye fabrics without using water which could save millions of gallons of water and a whole lotta energy each year.
There’s also more technology being developed to recycle used fabrics in new ways~ like this project in Australia that repurposes used commercial textiles giving new life to old hotel sheets, towels and more by reducing them to their raw components and making them into new fabrics.
Zero Waste Daniel is a designer who makes one of a kind pieces using scraps from factories that would otherwise end up in the dump.
I also found this awesome creative re-use store in a rural Northern California town that is inspiring creativity and has diverted over 17 tons of usable materials from the waste stream last year! 17 tons!!!! That’s crazy huge! It's also a lot of fun, and I found goodies for hatmaking, trims and all kinds of fun stuff there for my own studio.
They’re all inspirational and the best part is, there’s so many more ideas, people and companies who’ve realized we don’t have to be so destructive just to get dressed.
I hope you’ll check them out and find a few things you can implement into your life. Whether you let your kids make costumes from your old clothes, shop at a thrift store, make yourself new skirt from an old tablecloth, buy something from a small handmade sewer, or, just buy less altogether, it all adds up, and it all feels pretty good too.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, and as always, please share with a friend!
Hope you had a Happy Earth Month. Until next time~
Wondering what six weeks off of social media feels like? Fan-freaking-tastic, that’s what.
If you happened to have noticed that I’ve been pretty quiet and absent for the last bit, that’s also why- I’ve been on a very satisfying social media sabbatical.
Every year, I’m in the practice of giving up something for Lent, and this year, it was going to be my habit of being judgy. While that’s a noble idea, and I could probably benefit from some variation, a few days before the season began, I started feeling like my judgy-ness is actually handy and useful for me in some ways right now.
At the same time, I started noticing that my tendency to check social media was feeling habitual and rarely if ever leaving me feeling happier or more productive.
One day, I’d popped on Facebook for “just a minute” as I was getting ready, and whoopsie- TWENTY SIX MINUTES LATER I noticed the time! I had to rush like a madwoman and found myself needing right about a half hour more time to do what I actually needed to do, but I had unfortunately wasted it on Facebook.
And it wasn’t even the least bit satisfying.
In fact, it was mostly annoying as I there was so much stuff that really didn’t matter to me in the least bit, yet I’d been somehow sucked in.
That was frustrating for sure, but then came the creepiness.
I was up late one night talking to someone about some relationship issues they were having. THE NEXT DAY, there was an ad in my Facebook feed about a program to help with relationship issues.
Hmmmm...I hadn’t done any searches on the topic, nor was I actually using my phone or laptop during the conversation, so this seemed a little weird, but I figured it could also have been coincidental.
Most people have relationship problems at some point or another, so it’s not like the topic was all that specific towards me. It felt “off” but I didn’t want to go all full force conspiracy theory about it.
A few weeks later though, I’m in the bath, and my SweetHeart brings me a glass of wine, and we chit chat a bit. He tells me about a really unusual medical condition affecting a kid we know. This isn’t your everyday run of the mill condition, but one I’ve never actually known anyone in my 47 years on the planet to have. I’ve only read about it in a novel once, And, my phone was IN THE NEXT ROOM.
So, the next morning, I’m scrolling through Instagram and bam, there’s an ad “Does your child have “Fill in the blank with the exact freaking unusual condition we had been talking about the night before?””
Coincidence? No freaking way. It was way too specific, and also way too creepy.
So, without even realizing it was the day before Lent began and without really telling anyone aside from a few close friends, I deleted the social media apps off my phone.
And so began my six-week sabbatical from social media.
I realized quickly that almost everyone I know over the age of 25 seems to have some sort of love/hate relationship with social media. Sometimes, it’s more of a hate/hate relationship, yet still, most of us still use it.
For the younger ones, many don’t even know a time without that dopamine hit of seeing who liked your selfie and some aren’t even the least bit creeped out by being listened to.
The first part makes me sad and concerned about what that does to the brain, communication skills, and relationships.
The second makes me wonder if they’ve never read or watched any futuristic sci-fi books or movies and how they could possibly NOT think this handy technology can and likely will be used against us?
This makes me want to yell “Resistance is NOT futile!!!!!” and to force a mass binge watching of the kind of movies that will activate the paranoid parts of their brains.
But, since that’s probably illegal, and makes me sound crazy, I’m focusing on my own relationship with technology first before I go freaking out on everyone else.
I am, however, immensely grateful that my kids grew up on the cusp of the smartphone era and got to be little kids and play with toys and run around and have a childhood of their own before the world came at them on a tiny screen in their teen years. It’s whole different world for younger kids and my hat’s off to the parents navigating how to use the technology wisely.
What I noticed myself right away in my time off social media was how often I would unconsciously pick up my phone on autopilot in the first few days and look for those little icons. But they were gone. My twitchy fingers and ping pong brain had to find something else to do. I was actually a little shocked and how much I distracted myself.
Standing in line, I was forced to just wait, or I could text a friend, or get out a notebook and make a random list or if I was really bored, I could talk to strangers. Eventually, I quit picking up my phone so often.
It reminded me of something my Girl Child observed on her gap year in Ecuador. Her iPhone was stolen fairly shortly into the trip and she didn’t have an international data plan anyway, so she was left to use a flip phone for emergencies. This forced her to go old school on her hour-long bus rides and just stare out the window. She commented more than once on how nice it was to just zone out AND how rarely that happened back in the US.
For me, having more time with my own thoughts rather than the random ramblings of everyone else was like an exhale. I felt less anxious and less rushed. Even though my responsibilities and routine hadn’t been reduced at all, I felt more peaceful.
Freeing up my brain space to focus on what I was actually wanting to accomplish was like some flashback to an earlier time, and I really liked it.
During the time, I took 3 coastal trips, and read books and wrote at night. I stared at the ocean and big trees rather than my phone. I did a lot of thinking, started a couple of new projects and did a whole lotta work on others. I also communicated directly with people a lot.
The downside was that also during the time, I was coordinating an event and 2 workshops leading up to it- you know....the kind of things that get promoted on social media. I did pop in 2 times to post a link and sent some messages to people I thought might be interested, but otherwise, I just left it up to others involved to get the word out.
That felt a bit weird and detached, but since my exodus wasn’t really planned out in advance, it was the best I could do. And in the end, it was enough. The show went on and was a success.
I did keep the messenger app as it’s the primary way I communicate with a few people, so the creepy mic listening has probably continued, but at least I wasn’t seeing ads targeted towards my conversations.
The evening of Easter came and went and even though Lent was over and so was my sabbatical, I found that I wasn’t really feeling that interested in social media. I opened Facebook and scrolled for about a minute, and found, for the most part, I just didn’t care.
Yes, it was nice to see a few faces I hadn’t seen in a while and to smile at their happy pictures and cute kids and vacations. Other things, like what people were having for lunch was still as uninteresting as it had been before and the bombarding of ads had a new feeling to it. Less frustration, and more, no thanks. I don’t need to scroll through all that. I don’t want to spend my life there.
I’m not under any illusion that I’ll be off social media for life because I do miss the sharing and connecting possibilities that can come through it. I’ll just be finding my way to get what I want and leave the rest behind so that I’m using the technology rather than it using me. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I do know I like the feel of my own thoughts.
How about you? How do you feel about your relationship with social media? Do you love it? Hate it? And how do you navigate it with your kids? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
If you liked this essay, please share it using the very social media that I just took a break from! Ha!
And in whatever capacity works for you, I’d encourage more time in real life and less on screens.
Enjoy the day!
Writer, Artist, Empowered Living Advocate, Wanna-be Organic Gardening Foodie, Travel Loving Life Explorer, FunSchooling Facilitator / Former Goat-Herding HeadMistress for our Mostly Happy Homeschool, Semi-Crazy Chicken Lady and Mamacita Extraordinaire to a couple of Cage Free Kids.