to wreck, and then...

Today's quote from last week since I wrote this a week ago and didn't have time to click "post":

"Thank you for not leaving me when I was intolerable." 

It works for almost every scenario, including remodels with the one you love and the sort of exhaustion that only intense, months-long renovations can incur.

We're not out of the woods, yet. We've barely got walls, let alone floors, sinks, toilets or a shower. We do have windows, and the drywall is up. We're working on ductwork and someone else is working on mudding, taping, sanding and priming. And it's only a few days before we move in. I think we'll be sleeping in a corner of the basement and showering at the gym. 

It's like one of those funny stories from college, except that we're not in college. We're working professionals who have to shower and dress for work Monday through Friday and walk the dog twice a day. We're more than tired and it's not summer and it's soaking wet outside. We're worried about the basement flooding, the exposed insulation, and the fact that we haven't put gutters on the eaves.

At least there's heat and we can always pull out the camp stove (if we had time to cook). I keep reminding myself it will all be over soon and our little house will be a home. I'll have time to read and make things (like dinner), and visit with friends and regale them with stories about this one time with the ladder and almost falling backward down the stairs. Either that, or I'll just point toward [what will be] the beautiful kitchen and say, "We chose that."

In the meantime, I'll enjoy my last few days in a rental where someone else is responsible for when the roof leaks and when we need a new washer. (Psssssst: Babe-eh-loo: We need a washer and dryer.)


One week later:

It's freezing outside (almost literally) but dry. The ductwork is done, the drywall has been mudded, taped, sanded and primed. We packed and stored all of our stuff over the weekend and our cabinets were delivered today. Which means we should probably order our counter tops. And probably the tile for the bathroom.

We bought a new washer and dryer. And a refrigerator, stove, microwave, and dishwasher but we haven't installed a toilet. It's not even close to done, but it's closer than it was last week. And that is all we can hope for, really.

check out schoolhouse electric because it's fun

and restoration hardware these days is amazing.

the deep

I thought, "Sure, I'll post updates weekly as we renovate. We can share before and after and during photos and laugh and hang out and chat about our remodel adventure."

That was before, when we had free time and friends. When we cooked at home and vacuumed. When we could find time for movies and reading, laundry and grocery shopping.

Now we're nearly five months in, demolition is over, we've excavated and resealed the foundation (nearly done with backfilling). We're in the midst of wiring outlets and lights. I insulated the water pipes over the weekend, we have a new porch. And we haven't seen our friends in months (not totally literally, but just about literally). One friend even said, "Oh no, you don't understand. You won't see them [meaning us] unless you go to The House to see them." And they're right. We're completely consumed. Every detail needs a decision, a measurement, a product ordered.

There's no time for photos, for updates, for reminiscing or pondering just where that pretty painting will go. There are only decisions and labor. Manual labor. I remember the day I said, "That's the one thing I don't do: Dig." One week later I was covered in dirt, my hands had actual digging callouses, and I had sealing tar in my hair as I sat at the bottom of a 6 foot trench wrapping a footing drain.

Adam told the neighbors as they walked by, "We're building a moat!"

We are exhausted. Working 15+ hours a day, seven days a week, and it has been months now. Everyone (I mean it) says, "Oh, I know, it's hard but it's totally worth it, right?" And we smile and say, "Yes yes yes" whilst growling inside and wondering when the end result will happen. We're not to the "It was hard, but it was totally worth it" zone. It's just hard, and stressful, and we have no idea if what we've conceived as the perfect, adorable, cozy, inviting place will be what we pictured as Home.

But really, we love it. The house will be wonderful. It will be ours, exactly as we designed it after 37+ floor plans and countless revisions and questions.

This took me two days to write, and I'm sorry but there are no photos of the house. Just a photo of us in Scotland in August, when we had a full week to ourselves poking around in castles. Before we were in so deep. Before I became a champion digger. Or at least before I picked up a shovel.

even when

Sometimes it's hard to be cute. Not everyone has the ability to say things that are totally delightful or can walk around blinking like a baby owl (as you know: the epitome of cuteness). I like the ones who surprise you and catch you off guard. Like the little guy in the middle on the far right. He's pretty cute. And oops! Looks totally surprised; just trying to look like a Panda.

I am not cute today. I woke up before Mister Important made the Earth (like, very early) and didn't bother to shower. I did shower last night, but that only meant my hair looked nice before I went to bed. Once I slept on it (partially wet as it was) it looked a little awkward.

We have a mirror by the door to our office and it's job is pretty simple: To mock you each time you walk by and make snide remarks like, "Oh, what, woke up early today?" And, "You look tired."

Which, by the way, is a terrible thing to say to somebody. I try and pre-empt it with over-zealous protective commentaries about myself looking tired. "I know, I look totally awful. " Or, "Ugh, I feel like a zombie, and probably look like one, too." It's not like I'm fishing for compliments or that I have a low self esteem. I just don't want someone to tell me I look tired. Even when I look really really tired.

what the world is made of

Here are some words from a mother who's teenage daughter had a major stroke recently. I keep reading them with awe at her sense of gratefulness in response to something that most of us would tremble to even think about. If I can take anything from this, it is the aspiration to step into life with this sense of grace and appreciation. As a wise friend said, "The greatest part of our happiness depends on our dispositions, not our circumstances."

I wish I could spin my moments of unhappiness into something so beautiful. The least I can do is wonder at a mother who is watching her child relearn everything she once knew, from language to walking and hopefully one day to singing and dancing. The most I can do is learn to reframe the not-so-special times into something I can learn from, and hopefully look upon those times as a gift. If not, there's always a chance to laugh at my own silliness.

"Between watching this beautiful and amazing creature courageously rebuild her body and her vocabulary, and these people I have called my best friends for decades move heaven and earth to help her, I am quite overcome most of the day, everyday. I feel as if someone said, "Sit. Watch. This is what the world is really made of. There's more beauty and love and joy here than you could possibly imagine. Remember this and nothing that could ever happen will shake you again." I am forever changed."
                                              -m.b.q.




[photo courtesy of lavender and dash]

floor plans

It's not every day you look around at 20 houses or so and pick the one that is not inhabitable. It may have a huge yard and loads of potential, it may even have a garage and a full basement. But it does not have safe floors, there are pieces missing, and there is rot. Also, someone decided it would be fun to see how much water a basement can hold.

Truth be told, this isn't our first rodeo. We've successfully moved into two old, dirty, paint-flaky, stinky houses that had lots of potential that we were willing to paint, clean, deodorize and live in. And we did paint, clean, deodorize and live in them, and they turned out great. Nice, even. We just haven't bought one before.

As it turns out we kinda like this sort of thing, and here we are on the verge of something a little bit crazy. We have no idea (really) what we're getting ourselves into. Neither one of us are carpenters (or plumbers or smithies or window replacers or basement fixer-uppers). We've never sanded our own wood floors or tried to replace a door frame. We've painted (a lot) and we have drawn up 37+ floor plans and even created them in SolidWorks in 3D. We've studied hundreds of kitchens and bathrooms and asked questions and put the kitchen where the bathroom is and the bedroom where the other bedroom was.

And we've signed papers. Lots and lots of papers. And it's nearly ours (but not quite yet).

You know what that means: You're about to the join the adventure, too. Because I have a feeling I won't be able to hold back when I get oh-so-excited about finding a salvaged glass door knob to fit the pint-size door upstairs, and I know I'll probably go hog-wild when things get too crazy and the total bill is waaaay more than we expected (it always is).

But  it's nearly ours.

And we have help.




Pretty kitchen photo courtesy of House Beautiful, the others: that's what we're working with. yep. There is the before.... and the wishes for the after.

Shiny

I am distracted by these sparkles that are dancing around on the keyboard as I type. Lovely and perfect, they embody a million different thoughts and emotions that bounce against each other like spheres of rubber (aka bouncy balls) when I look at it. It's fancy. It's old. It's antique, created by some talented craftsman in 1925. I'll never know the story, but I can tell you mine.

We went hiking over a river and through the woods to a Lake. The weather was amazing for May, and I started calling Pup "The Lone Ranger" as he darted out ahead on the trail and disappeared and then darted back to check on us. He was leaping over streams and we were sort of slipping and jumping after him. I wouldn't describe my moves as graceful, but we were having a blast and the day was full of jokes and laughter and admiration for the beautiful woods, the blue sky, and the brief glimpses of a glassy lake through the trees.

It was a bit farther than we had expected, and I have a little blister to prove it. (Far is not so bad when you're with someone wonderful and the day is beautiful and the Pup is happy.)

Once we arrived at the Lake, (it was a perfect reflection of the snowy mountains), we sat and were sweet to each other. We talked of our new house, and how stressed out we've been and how we don't want to do that anymore (stress, I mean). We held hands and talked about our future, about the plans for the house, and building a Home. He said he loved me, and he wanted to grow old with me, and then he knelt down...

This is where you're thinking: Oh my goodness!! He's going to propose!! And I have to tell you that I was not thinking this. I was noticing his hand in his pocket, and I was thinking, "Oh, no. He's trying to cup those snotty tissues I gave him away from his leg." (I'd had a bit of a runny nose on our hike and had nowhere to put them so I had handed them over.) I was feeling bad about the tissues, and overjoyed at his sweetness and caught off guard by this talk of that far-off future of growing old together. 

But he did propose. He knelt down in the rocks and the drift wood and said that he loved me and would I marry him? I said, "Are you serious?" and could not for the life of me figure out what was going on. After three years of anticipating this very moment (we've been dating for six) I had boasted that I would definitely know when this was coming and there was no way he'd surprise me.

But he did.

He surprised me on a day which was perfect from beginning to end. He had waited for weeks for the perfect moment, he had asked my parents for their blessing months ago. We hiked back, we sipped wine, we discussed a someday wedding, and he told me what my Papa had said, and what my Mum had said. He looked at me with such love in his eyes, and I felt such joy. 

Do you need to know what comes next? Do I? My cheeks hurt from smiling. My heart is full. I think that's enough.

all the things

Perhaps you've heard of this thing called Pinterest? As someone who gathers photos of all sorts of things (art, fashion, shoes, sparkles, wedding ideas, party cakes... the list goes on and on) and who used to add those photos to random files on my computer, this site is like a giant inspiration board.

I love being able to scroll through friends' and strangers' boards, and you can even "pin" other people's pretties to your own unique board. I highly recommend it, if you are a saver of images as I am.

And yes, you're already in danger if you are even considering it. It took me a few months of urging before I tried it.

And then I pinned all the things.

walter

Today is for silliness and ridicule of the kinds of silliness that we just don't like. That means I have a rant in my head but I'm going to leave it at that and move on to Gotye:

Great music, interesting lyrics, and I like his music video (see below). I also saw him live-ish on Saturday Night Live and thought he was damn good for being on a tiny stage on a late night comedy show. His new album 'Making Mirrors' is out now, and if you want to know a little more go here. For some more: fun details.

Now that we've covered Gotye/Gaultier/Wouter/Walter, let me say just a little something about people who are condescending or who question your integrity and treat you as a young thoughtless person (when you clearly are not). Surprisingly, I am not speaking about anyone's treatment of myself, but treatment of another. It can be more irritating sometimes.

I suppose life would not be nearly as interesting without thoughtless people who have no skills in the "how to treat others" department. And so I pose the question: Who doesn't know the Golden Rules?

I'm pretty sure I can sum them up quickly; I've known them for a long time. I think most everyone should know them by about the time they, oh, learn to stick a fork in their own mouth without poking an eye out. Difficult, yes. Impossible, no.

Because you asked, and because I am more than prepared to share, here are the Golden Rules as I understand them:

Share when you're in the sand box, don't throw toys at other kids' heads, and don't pee on people.

It's pretty straightforward.

photos courtesy of soundslikerl

the waiting

Oh, the waiting.

I've been trained to act like I'm patient, but secretly (or perhaps not secretly at all) I am not. Especially when it's something really really exciting like chocolate, or date night, or buying a house. And this is where the waiting becomes almost unbearable and I walk around dancing a little bit trying to shake out the anticipation.

We started looking recently, and weren't exactly in any kind of rush. But then we met with a contractor. And an agent. And a mortgage guy. And then we put the estimate together (it includes a total renovation from the ground up). And then we put in the offer.

And now we wait.

When it comes down to it, I'm not sure I'm cut out for this sort of thing. The excitement mixed with stress and planning and all of the possibilities of a future life in this one-day-will-be-pretty house scribble all over my brain and make me a little bit of a nutcase. I wake up in the middle of the night planning out the garden and thinking about adding a tiny window to that one Southeast wall for morning light.

eeeeeep!

I have been crossing my fingers but trying to remind myself that if it doesn't happen there is something better out there. I hope I will remember that if/when they come back and say, "Sorry we sold it to someone else" I won't curse them. And then cry.

photo courtesy of trendir.com

under/over

There's nothing like a little inspiration from someone who's out in the world doing kind things for humanity to get you thinking.

Or me, rather.

I'm thinking about a friend's mom who is painting schoolhouses in Thailand. She's been to Africa several times, too. She's an artist, a designer, and a pretty amazing, kind person.

I'm pretty nice most days, but I have to admit my time helping others has been more limited than it should be (although my goals are lofty). I have volunteered here and there, and even spent my 31st birthday with a group of friends picking up garbage in a park near my house. We found a laptop, used syringes and condoms, and some beach balls. We wore gloves and drank beer, and followed it up with birthday cake served out of the back of a truck. I was proud of the several large trash bags of junk we picked up.

We once volunteered to help a water sports company spend a morning helping blind kids and teens learn to water ski (and boat and float). Pretty amazing how fearless they were!

And now to the point: I often think of these words from The Lupine Lady "Miss Rumphius" (from the wonderful children's book) and her directive to "do something to make the world more beautiful."

There is so much we can do; are we doing it?

To quote the lovely lady painter in Thailand, "The young Thai women involved in the project are some of the most lovely in spirit I have ever met. Culturally they are deeply respectful and affectionate. I am held tightly in thanks for each small thing I do - and they skip up to me and laughingly grab my hand to hold. These are not children. They are in their early- to mid-twenties. If I try to cross a street, invariably one of them will put an arm in front of me, protecting me from any harm that may come my way. I am actually stunned by the sweetness of it all."

Does it count just being nice to people? Smiling at your neighbor and saying hello to people on the bus? What about digging in your garden and picking up old beer cans in the alley? I'd like to think that kindness in little ways helps, too, but I know there are a million more ways to affect the world and to make it more beautiful.

I'm not sure if redecorating or sewing a pretty dress helps much, but I'm going to keep on trying (while I quietly create a list of other helpful things I can do).

Miss Rumphius

Color Gypsy

two feet and a fist

Our health industry is "interesting." I've never really had to take part in it except for that one time I had a concussion, the other time with having my wisdom teeth removed, and a pretty consistent "lady checkup."

Maybe my upbringing had something to do with it. We didn't visit the doctor's office when we had a cold, or when we sprained an ankle. Our parents seemed to know enough to take us in when they thought we might have a broken arm or when we seemed to need stitches (which means there was actually something the doctors could do).

You could argue they just got lucky.

Far be it for me to judge as I've only been visiting my new doctor for two years. But I will. (You knew that was coming.)

I am frustrated. Beyond frustrated actually, as here I sit another month into a grueling "what the what is wrong with me?" adventure.

With the help of a nutritionist and some serious online sleuthing, I finally got my doctor to take me seriously and do a series of blood tests. It just so happens that my thyroid was not in awesome working order, also my Vitamin D levels were super low (duh, considering I live in Seattle).

The thyroid issue can happen for a variety of reasons, and a pretty ridiculous percentage of people (women and men) have thyroid problems. Lots more probably undiagnosed. My numbers weren't outrageous compared to some, but for me they meant: not sleeping through the night, feeling exhausted (like my limbs were filled with lead) no matter how much sleep I got, feeling cold ALL of the time, hoarse voice, lack of creativity (and I'm a designer in every aspect of my life), low excitement and grumpy/sad/moody. If you know me, then you'll know that is not normal. The list goes on and on, but those are some of the big ones.

As for the Vitamin D, I take a 2,000 IU capsule every day and I haven't gotten a cold all winter (except for that one time when I forgot to take my Vitamin D for a week).

So I'm on a low dose of thyroid hormone for the rest of my life. It has helped a lot in a lot of ways, but I'm having episodes every month or two that include:

Feeling like I've-been-hit-by-a-truck tired (regardless of 'sleeping' 9-10 hours a night).

Not able to sleep through the night.

Nauseated to the point of hovering over the toilet.

I stop cooking (which I love, and do typically every day).

I don't want to see anyone (and I live for my friend visits and catching up time).

This makes me unbelievably sad. The thought of seeing someone and having them ask, "Hey, how's it going?" makes me cry.

Literally.

This is not normal. I know it's not normal. And yet, when I visit my doctor or call to make an appointment for a blood test they say, "Well, you are getting older. Try drinking a lot of water for a week and see what happens."

I've been drinking 5 or more 22 ounce bottles of water a day. That's 110 ounces of H20!!! I only weigh 20-odd pounds more than that! I'm nearly drinking my weight in water every day and I feel awful. I don't drink coffee, I don't drink alcohol more than once or twice a week (yay for Saturdays!). I've been working out. I don't work long hours. I eat mostly home-cooked meals. My breakfast is yogurt and granola with blueberries. I think I could do with some more salads but I don't drink soda and I don't smoke. I watch my salt intake. I am not pregnant.

It comes in waves for a week every month or two. I've been back to the doctor three times to ask about this, as I read it could be side effects from the medication. She responded, "I really don't think so."

And here's where the judgment comes in: If you only have 15 mins with a patient once a year (unless they're a total irritation like me and come back four or five times) you are bound to make assumptions regardless of knowing next to nothing about them. These are most likely pulled from lots of reading, and lots of people who need a doctor to give them drugs. I don't want drugs. I don't even want the ones I'm supposed to take. I just want a definitive answer to figure out why I'm swinging like a pendulum from feeling pretty good to feeling totally, unbearably awful, on what is becoming a regular basis. I want the person who paid outrageous amounts of money and spent long, intense hours studying to help me.

Apparently it may take more than fifteen minutes. I'd like a second opinion, and perhaps you could refer me to a specialist. Or at least understand that I'm not making this up and that after 34 years of life lived in a pretty clear-about-myself state, I might actually know a little something about how I am feeling and that it's not a lack of hydration.

It's just a thought.

photo courtesy of savvy patient

nearly there

Winters in the Northwest invite you to hibernate for about.... oh, four to six months. It's not exactly required, and you may feel enthusiastic enough to go out and play in the mountains, take a couple of trips, and perhaps even take long walks every single day (your dog may require it of you, and you may oblige). But compared to the energy and enthusiasm of Spring, Summer and Fall... Well, let's just say things are a bit different in Winter.

The cherry trees, crocus, and daffodils are blooming now. Buds are emerging on branches everywhere, and I walk around feeling pretty darn delighted. I find myself coming up with projects (when two weeks ago I was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have any projects and couldn't think of any). I painted the trim in our hallway. I painted our bathroom. I reorganized the basement and rearranged my design studio. It's like the fog and sleepiness of winter has thinned and dispersed, and suddenly I notice all sorts of things to do! Pretty exciting, really.

Today is heavy with torrents of rain and wind. The streets are deserted as we watch from our office windows hoping to see the action of someone caught in this monsoon. Just as the day seems as if it is about to go dark, the clouds break a little and the room lights up.

I'm pretty sure I've yawned about 4,387 times today, but I swear I'm feeling perky. It's only a matter of time before Spring really is here (no more snow, like on Tuesday!) and then Summer is sure to follow. I look forward to BBQ's and boating, long evening walks and perhaps a couple of camping trips.

In the meantime I will busy myself with household thrills like mopping the floor and dusting out the cupboards. And maybe some more painting...

Irish seaside courtesy of this is glamorous

Oregon cherry blossoms

Spring cherry tree

piano

My fingers meet the ivory keys only once or twice a year but when they do, they dance. It feels like twirling, falling, flying, and the weight of the keys on my childhood upright grand is a familiar balancing act. A few of the lowest keys are off, and the felt has worn away, but the sound is lovely.

My hope is that we'll have room in our new house for my piano. It takes up the space of two dressers and is as deep as a refrigerator but I want to start playing again. This new house doesn't exist for us yet, but it will someday and I plan on taking more lessons. I'd like to sit down on my piano bench with some new sheet music. I'll arrange the pages just so, and try a few measures with my right hand. Then I'll play a few with my left. Once I feel I understand a bit, I'll try both hands together.

I learned to carefully keep my palms curved, knuckles up (for good form), and to keep my back straight. Once I'm ready, I'll let my fingers dance.

all of this inspired by MCS's song on Radio Paradise

Matthew C Shuman - Chasing the Wind

fit

My recent investment of time, energy, and attention is CrossFit. You may have heard about it from someone oddly excited about it. Maybe you've never heard about it, but the words Cross and Fit seem familiar. No worries, I'll fill you in.

CrossFit is "constantly varied, functional movement performed at high intensity.... CrossFit contends that a person is as fit as they are proficient in each of ten general skills: cardiovascular/respiratory endurance, stamina, strength, flexibility, power, speed, agility, balance, coordination and accuracy." I got that from wikipedia.

What is CrossFit to me? 3 times a week of fun, intense, upbeat workout followed by a feeling of total exhaustion yet at the same time super charged and pretty darn proud of myself.

I'm not in terrible shape, but I haven't felt really great/svelte/lithe/fit in a while and this feels pretty fantastic. I'm not even there yet, I just feel like I'm on my way.

There's nothing like having a friend who's been doing CrossFit for six months with fabulous results to inspire you to give it a try. Last night I did 120 full sit ups even tapping the floor in front of my feet after each one. Sadly this wore the skin off my tail bone but I didn't notice until showering was painful. Oddly enough, it just made me feel tough and inspired.

I'm learning pull ups and all sorts of funny-sounding moves like Burpees, Inch Worms, and Clean Press something-or-others. I'm only three weeks in, but I can tell I'm gonna like it.

CrossFit girls are...

tracks

Some days you feel kinda like a tiger with very sharp claws. Other days you may be a little slow and awkward, and wish you'd just held your tongue.

I'm just saying.

Last night I watched part of a documentary about HIV and AIDS in Zambia, Africa. It was heartbreaking. So many children and wives, mothers and husbands, grandmothers, babies... Lost.

If you've ever seen someone frail and thin from disease, their bones delicate within the casing of their skin and wondered how they could still be alive.... That's what it is. If you've ever wondered what advances in medicine can do for the world, and what sex education can do for people.... It can do a lot. It can save babies.

I'm a fairly well-read person who likes to keep somewhat up to date on the affairs of the world but I have to admit that I feel totally and completely unable to comprehend the scope of savagery that is the effect of the HIV and AIDS viruses. There are millions of people affected, and thousands of people dying every day.

I'm not sure what I can do about it, but if nothing else I can recommend watching The Lazarus Affect. Although this short documentary is completely focused on how to keep these viruses from killing people (through the administering of medications), I'd like to mention that there is a lot of work being done to help keep people from being infected in the first place. Knowledge is power. Education is key.

And that is all for this week's episode of Friday Thoughts! Enjoy your weekend, relax, and change the world.

Zambia map courtesy of nationsonline.org (I have not checked out this website)

Zambian woman courtesy of OffTheBeatenTrack

Zambia Dancer courtesy of TheStateDepartment

sleepy time

I have a bit of a cold. It's just enough to make me feel sleepy and a little squinty-eyed, but not enough to keep me home in bed. It is, however, enough to make me dream of being home in bed and wondering how this day can drag so!

On that note, I'd like to curl up in this bed. It looks soft and quiet and warm, and I can almost feel the curtains being drawn and twilight tucking me in. I love this whole room, but I am particularly happy with the walls. I love the texture, the color, and how the shadows make the corner look cozy.

I am curious about the little bedside curio table (who needs a clock when a collection of skulls will do?). I love the contrast of rustic dark wood against a soft, pale wall.

Okay, in I go. It's too tempting.

Sorry, I've lost the photo credit.

at last

It's Friday!

I don't have much to say after a very exhausting five days, but I wanted to mention how tasty my enchiladas were on Tuesday. I shared them with an office buddy for Valentine's Day. I also shared a few of the chocolate truffles I made. I now know how to roll funny-looking little ganache morsels and dip and twist them to create fantastically delicious yet not-stunning truffle bites.

Now back to these enchiladas. I believe I may have mentioned before how at one point some years ago I realized that rolling enchiladas (although creative and pretty-looking) was basically a wild waste of time. Thus began my Enchilada Casserole years. Delicious, not as time consuming, and did I mention delicious?

You may be surprised that I am willing to share my recipe, but I'm pretty sure they're important enough to share. Also, I've never been one to think mine better than the original chef's so I feel that makes intellectual property pretty special and utterly sharable.

Layer upon layer, until you come out just right:

Corn tortillas

A round casserole dish that the tortillas almost fill

Rosarita vegetarian refried beans (you can add your own non-canned meat at will)

1/4 teaspoon ground cumin (add to beans, stir until hot)

1/4 teaspoon chile powder (add to beans and cumin)

A sprinkling of garlic powder if needed (I don't use it anymore)

Sharp cheddar cheese, grated

Monterey jack cheese, grated (if desired/optional)

Mild diced green chiles (one small 3oz can)

Mild/medium/hot green OR red enchilada sauce (your choice of brand, but I like Hatch)

The following are optional additions:

Black olives, chopped

Cilantro, washed and chopped

Chicken breast chopped small, sauteed in tamari, ginger powder, garlic powder, thyme

Corn (add ancho chile powder for some added flavor)

Rice (add sauteed onions, pepper, chile powder, garlic powder for flavor)

Pre-heat the oven to 350F (expect 45 minutes to bake)

Add a thin layer of sauce to bottom of casserole dish

Add one tortilla

Add 1/4" layer of beans

Add sprinkling of cheese (not much needed)

Add chicken/olives/cilantro

Top with a few spoonfuls of sauce (not enough to be really wet)

Repeat until pan is nearing full.*

Top layer: cheese, sauce, olives (pretty) finish with more sauce

*Make eating your enchilada casserole more interesting by varying the amount in between each layer. I've noticed adding chicken to one but beans to another keeps the texture interesting.

Bake for 45 minutes at 350F. Your enchilada casserole is finished when the cheese is bubbly on top and sauce is bubbling.

Let sit for five minutes (if you can) and add small scoop of sour cream or plain yogurt.

This photo is from Monday night. I accidentally used Hot sauce, which made it more interesting but not in a super good way.

parentheses

This photo says Happy Friday, and since my Monday was not exactly awesome (think red flashing lights on computer thingies, and tiny irritations buzzing around the office) I've decided to flash back to my Friday when I had the whole weekend before me.

My weekend was lovely and far too short (as weekends often are). I made two folders of recipes (full color, two sided that I had pulled from "Five Easy Meals" in Real Simple). I watched my new favorite television addiction, Downton Abbey. I went skiing with two pros who were kind enough to wait on me as I skied in a non-pro fashion all over the mountain (we even did a black diamond run!).

This evening invites a bath and some couch time. I'll walk the dog a little farther in the pattering rain, and think ahead to next weekend. I hope it feels longer, but it prolly* won't.

*yes, I mis-spelled probably on purpose. don't worry.

photo courtesy DesignLoveFest

come true

"You never know who has the power to make your dreams come true."

So be nice.

And enjoy some beautiful moments today. It is another stunning day in Seattle, and I am going to leave work and prance and prance. It's not every day I feel like prancing, so I have to take these moments as they come. I'm looking forward to the weekend, but still a little unsure of what happened to the week. Weren't we just waking up on a Monday? Didn't I have all week to get this list of Things to Do accomplished?

By tomorrow, as I'm playing on a mountainside in the snow, I'll have forgotten about the list, and won't give it another thought until Monday.

inspired by this

photo courtesy of Michele M. Waite Photography

some days

Some days are like this: Grey and clear, mountains in the background and a whole lot of chatter in your mind. This and that and the other unimportant-and-yet-ever-nagging thing clamoring for focus. Some days are like that: Less cluttered and your mind feels clear.

I like to utilize photos and visual props. For instance, a fantastic moment for this woman's hair. She's another one of those ladies who sits around looking amazing, irregardless of the fact that she is quite possibly wearing her boyfriend's clothing from the mid-90's.

I also wanted to put to use this really fabulous moment for the weather. This was caught as snow was falling outside my window, and after a few hours the weather visual seemed to decide, "Snow is fun, but what I'd rather be doing is plip-plopping."

Some day are like that.

a moment for silly things

Favorite look of the day: fabulous red shoes take a cute outfit from chic and comfy to fabulous! I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to recreate this. Possibly tomorrow.

Ever feel like you need to try really really hard to feel fabulous? I've been stepping it up a notch this week, actually wearing heels to work (shocking, I know). I have to admit to being quite lax in my style when winter rolls around for its 8-10 month visit. It's time for fabulous coats and scarves, beautiful sweaters, and pretty layers. As you may imagine, there are a few things about the Northwest that make wearing heels a bit tricky in winter:

• It rains a lot
• Our driveway is on the other side of the garden
• It is cold
• It rains a lot

This winter has actually been drier than normal, which is fantastic and allows for more freedom of footwear. When we first moved to Seattle, I realized my collection of shoes was almost exclusively cloth or sandal of some sort. No rugged rain-proof shoes, no snow boots, nothing that could withstand water. That has changed, and now it's a battle to try and wear the pretty ones I so delight prancing around in.

My February resolution: Wear as many pretty shoes as possible (and bright red lipstick at least once).

I'd like to add that I do have loftier goals in my life, but sometimes it's the little ones that make the bigger ones possible. It's hard with all the busy that takes up our time, to take a moment for silly things that do nothing more than bring us brief, happy moments. I like to look down and see bright red shoes on my feet. I also like to recycle and replace the tops of neighbors' trash cans that have blown off in the wind.

photo courtesy of pinterest

creative universe

I came across these photos of fashion designer Erin Fetherston's lovely New York apartment, and her description on Vogue.com of the design and moving-in process:

After living in Paris for five years, "Erin Fetherston moved to New York in 2007 and immediately launched the search for a new space that possessed the same old-world charm as her apartment in France. After looking for more than a year ("It was so much harder than I had expected," she says), she finally found the perfect spot: a recently converted loft in Tribeca with high ceilings and massive windows that overlook the Hudson River. She took to the task of decorating immediately - a process greatly slowed by the fact that is took several months for her beloved antique and vintage furniture to make the slow boat trip across the ocean.

..."I see it as a reflection of my creative universe," she says. "It's romantic and chic, but clean and modern."

I love the thought of living in a space that is "a reflection of my creative universe." And, I'd like to request a closet like hers. If possible, filled with her clothing because it looks amazing and I want to run my fingers over the piles of silk and ribbons and finery.

In other news, our hunt for a new home has begun. We have loads of time, but I can't help getting excited and it's a task not to get attached to places just from seeing the outside. Who knows what's inside and what adventures we'll have as we create our own creative universe within?

One last quote from the designer: "I like everything to be a little magical, a little whimsical."

(And so do I.)

- photos by Claiborne Swanson Frank via Vogue

love monster

Someone dear to me (who sends random, delightful things my way) sent this picture. I opened a message at lunch (mid-bite, because I was sadly sitting in front of my computer while I ate). She said, "Why does this make me think of you? Strange.... but it does."

And I almost choked.

Because it makes me think of me, too.

I can't stop looking at it. It's like a perfect portrait. Obviously representational and not realist, but I love it and I am giggling a little bit at the outright excitement and over-the-top loving that this little love monster is emanating. Plus, I have a lot of teeth.

tattoo girls

A part of me really likes tattoos, tough girls, motorcycles, wild "punk" hair; girls with a little edge. I delight in characters like Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapachi & Rooney Mara) in 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo', with her jet-black hair and her tough walk. I like a little wild, a touch of tough, a fighter who won't back down, and the mystery of a woman who doesn't just talk to anybody about anything.

Other parts of me are a bit more old fashioned; such as my face, my hair, my utter lack of tattoos, and the fact that I can pretty much strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. And I do. I like sharing tidbits, and getting small insights to other people's lives.

I am always on the verge of shaving the side of my head and getting a tattoo. But in 34 years, I've only ever cut my hair super short once (it was more pixie than punk) and I *gasp* pierced my nose. Not exactly your super rebel. Just when I feel on the verge of getting a black mohawk or a tattoo of a dragonfly on my wrist, I see a girl in a pretty dress with her hair in long waves. And I change my mind (and put on some heels).

So my question for today, is: In these very modern times when women are working full time and having kids, when we expect the door held open but we don't get married "just" to secure our financial futures (we can secure our own mortgage, thanks...)

Does it matter if we're a little torn between tough and traditional?

And what is the difference, anyway?

Photos courtesy wmagazine

Ng

It's an anagram for Nanogram, and a Cantonese word that means....?

Due to a very interesting turn of events, I can't look this lovely word up on Wikipedia. But I find it lovely and thought I'd share it all the same.

If you don't know about the internet Blackout, you should look it up. I can't tell which side I'm on, which means I should read more about it. We in the United States are able (as many people are not) to voice our opinions about our laws and lawmakers. It's pretty special. And it's not often that our voices rise up together, showing that we really do care.

And now I'm going to make a big cup of hot cocoa and watch a silly television show while I wait for more snow to fall. Our world is white and cold, crunchy and delightful. We only get one or two days of this each year, and I am soaking it up.

I'll leave you with a few photos from A.T.S., who has liked me a lot for a long time, and loved me a lot for quite a while. (That's pretty special, too.)

sky promises

It is supposed to snow today, or tonight, or possibly tomorrow. Or so they tell me. We've had a few flurries here and there, the road is icy, but I'm not seeing much snow activity and that seems... Well, a bit unacceptable.

I'm not asking for Minnesota snow drifts or an Antarctic freeze. I would just like to humbly request that we get at least one snow day (or a snow week, that's really up to the snowmakers; I won't judge). I'd like to open all the shades, and drink a cup of hot chocolate whilst watching the snow come down. I'd take the Pup out romping, and hold my hands out to watch the snowflakes gather.

There's a book I'm reading which refers to studies about people and their behavior and how they're not as likely to watch a big soccer or other sports game after the fact, because the outcome has already been decided. We inherently feel a sense of control over the world and the things in it (like whether it will snow) and feel that by our rowdy cheering, or by closing our eyes and wishing really hard... We can affect the outcome.

I'm all for it, really.

And so I am now sitting at my desk (at work, yes) and closing my eyes every few minutes and hoping, urging, willing, and wishing really hard...

For snow.

Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of snow.

PS If it doesn't snow, I will be forced to transmogrify you and all of your non-snowmaking friends.

*google snow + forest for the photo

don't test me

I am not, by nature or by persuasion, a bad person. I still feel guilty for the two 50¢ pieces I stole when I was a teenager, and for lying to my mother when she asked me how much toilet paper I was using (she was trying to teach us to be sparing and not wasteful). I told her three squares, but I had really used five. I was 14.

Since my teens, I have felt pride in my work ethic and my honor system. White fibs aside, ("I'm sorry, I missed your call even though the phone was in my pocket") I like to be straight with people; I don't lie, cheat or steal. And I am sensitive. I may or may not cry when I get too hungry, or when someone says something really sweet, or when someone is a little bit mean to me.

If you're a person who applies "badness" to people, don't test my reflexes. I've learned that you can usually tell a lot about people by the way they anticipate others or what they expect from others. I am quick to judge when I feel uneasy with someone, and that feeling is often (although not always) proven true. Which makes the following statement feel mean and honest at the same time: If you make me nervous to be around, and I feel like I should watch what I say and keep most of myself to myself when I'm around you....

Our time together will be limited.

I cherish my friendships, and while I fault myself and some of my dear ones for being literally ridiculous in our supportiveness ("You acted crazy and he didn't like it? Bastard!") knowing they know me, and that they understand what motivates my actions is comforting. I don't worry (too often) that I've been misunderstood or misread.

Of course, when I say something idiotic I may stay up all night worrying about it and later have a very awkward conversation trying to explain myself. This happens from time to time; I never said I'm free from foot-in-mouth disease.

A rather genius Garden Shed via Wolf Eyebrows