Pomp and Pissiness – a Little Wedding Etiquette

23 05 2018

Last week, with tens of millions of strangers watching, two people got married. While these two people happen to be a bona fide Brit prince and a beautiful American actress, the promises they made to each other are no different than those made by many other couples.

Sadly, the catty remarks and mean-spirited comments made about this couple and their ceremony are also not much different than those made about many other couples.

What makes people do that?

Envy, of course.

Envy should never attend weddings. Envy takes up a seat that should be occupied by Love or Hope or Optimism or Joy.

We should welcome shared happiness of a loving couple’s wedding into our hearts. If we can’t do that, we should just stay home with our ugly friend Envy. Envy should just RSVP Regrets – after all, isn’t that what she does best?

Congratulations to all the newlyweds in the world, including those who were newly wed decades ago! We celebrate with you!

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Out of Order

16 05 2018

Someone I know just lost his twenty-four-year-old son. It is a shocking, awful, unimaginable thing.

I am someone who has lost a child, so I know, with searing clarity, the horror of outliving your child.

What do you say to someone who has lost a child?

You should probably NOT say the first six thoughts that come into your brain. Don’t mouth the empty platitudes. Don’t babble to fill the silence. You should probably not say anything for a while. Try to just BE with the person. Let their suffering flow out of them, absorb it, and neutralize some of it simply by giving your quiet support.

After the shock of the reality subsides, and you’ll feel when the time is right, you can offer heartfelt encouragement. Hearing this simple, but important truth made an enormous difference in my healing and continues to light a path through grief.

You lost someone you loved more than anyone in the world, but there are others here who love you and you love, so you must keep going for us.

I wish peace to the wounded heart of my colleague.

I wish compassion, patience, and perseverance to his friends.

Be kind. Keep being kind.





Color Me Happy

9 05 2018

I used to cling to a grudge the way a barnacle clings to the hull of a boat, like a baby possum clings to its mother’s back, like a wad of gum to a shoe sole .  .  .

Yeah, not attractive.

My life’s a lot prettier, however (though I am the same on the outside), since I decided to stop wearing my ancient history of rue and rancor like battle scars.  I’m not sure exactly when I decided to let go; I suppose it was when I realized I was boring myself with my own peculiar and unpleasant combination of nastiness and whining that I snapped out of it.  I’d like to say I’d been a quicker study, but there it is.

There are perfectly valid reasons to feel anger, grief, or regret, but I try to save those energy-eating emotions for special – truly warranted – occasions. To live in a constant low buzz of discontent is a sure way to drain all the color from life. I want to use every crayon in the box!

Paper-piecing practice in one of my playrooms.

Vitreous enamel on copper, mounted to hand textured and painted background, this is from another of my playrooms – one with a kiln.

Wet-felted merino and silk vessel from – yes – another of my playrooms.





Pay Proper Attention

2 05 2018

“My skin is splotchy.”
“I hate my legs.”
“My hair is too thin.”
“I can’t grow nice fingernails.”

Woe are us, who grew up with Helen Gurley Brown (if you were born later than 1960, Google her). We were conditioned to pay attention to details – especially the ones that made us feel bad about ourselves. We were always inspecting, appraising, and finding ourselves wanting. It sold a lot of cosmetics and clothing and, probably, anti-depressants. We had a well-honed sense of detail, but we had no idea of the proper way to direct it.

Now that I am old enough to wish I was worried about a date-night pimple (If one were to even try to appear now, it would be so well-hidden in my wrinkles, no one would ever know!), it is obvious that my attention should be directed at all the details that make me happy.

My house is a wild mixture of cluttered mess, works of art, pet guinea pigs, and an undemanding husband. The cluttered mess gets some attention, but only when the husband is out, the piggies are asleep, and the art does not draw my eye . . . not often!

My landscape is about half beauty and half disaster area; guess where I focus my eyes. Even as I work to improve the ground-under-repair, my thoughts are of the spots of pure loveliness and I am glad to have work to do.

My self is wrinkled and chubby with ragged cuticles and unkempt hair. I am also unbelievably luckily healthy and comfortable with life. Self has learned that comfortable is the best possible condition.

By paying proper attention to the important details of life – those things, large and small, that bring a smile to the lips, a leap of the heart, or a sigh of satisfaction – we realize that we are surrounded by goodness and it’s there for us to enjoy. Take comfort in those details. They are the ones that deserve our attention.

 





Through The Lens Love

25 04 2018

I love my camera.

I understand that it is no longer fashionable to tote around a DSLR when smart phones are so sophisticated, but I LOVE MY CAMERA.

Mostly I love to shoot macro images of flowers.  It is a hobby that dovetails perfectly with my love for my yard. Have I told you I LOVE MY YARD?

Compulsive as I am, I limit my plant photos to stuff growing in my own yard. (Of course, that limit is really only the growing zone and size of my little property – I am not above buying and planting more stuff!) I think that flowers and plants are so naturally beautiful that to take photos of them without doing some work to grow them is just a little bit like stealing.

Given the long stretch of unpleasantly chilly weather, I hope these photographs will raise your spirits as they do mine.

It’s almost May!

Hang on, flowers and friends!





Well That Didn’t Work . . . or Did It?

18 04 2018

I love to cook.  I am really good at it. That does not mean that every single thing I attempt to make turns out like I thought it would.  Anyone who’s done more than open a box or a can will, I’ll bet, know just what I’m talking about. 

One of the things that makes me a good cook is my ability to handle these “how’d that happen” moments and turn out some delicious, if not as advertised, dish. A pie filling that refuses to thicken gets spooned into glasses and, with a few flourishes, becomes parfait. Potatoes that were to be parboiled to fold into a cream sauce fall apart, so become an extraordinarily rich mash.  As long as the ingredients are good, with careful mixing and a little inspiration, the result will be tasty.

Tomorrow, I will cook dinner for my husband and our friend  – well, others might call him my ex-husband, as we were, in fact, married for a short while, some almost forty years. You see, when we first met, the two of us thought we’d make a fine married couple, but the mixture was not quite right. We could have thrown the whole thing away, but we had good ingredients – mutual respect, shared ethics, and love for each other – so we made the most wonderful friendship, instead.

Sometimes when things don’t work out the way we thought they would, they turn out just fine.

 

 





Who Cares?

11 04 2018

How often have you heard someone who is blissfully happy described as having “not a care in the world?”

It does sound lovely, but I think it is a lie.

I guess you could say I am a worrier.

 I fret over whether or not my mother is eating enough good food (she is.)

 I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about how my friend’s medical treatment is working (it is.) 

I wonder whether my colleague’s partner is treating her well (he is.)

Hell, I even listen HARD to my guinea pigs, if I even suspect I detect a wheeze (they’re fine.)

I worry.

Or to put it another way, I care. 

What a desolate existence it would be to have not a care in the world.  How empty would my heart be if it did not ache a little when a friend is hurting, if it did not beat a little faster when one shares good news, if it did not swell with happiness just because these people are in my life?

How wonderful it is to have all these worries  cares in my world. Yes, I care and that makes me blissfully happy.

Now, call me when you get home, so I know you are safe!

You look a little thin. Are you sure you’re getting enough to eat? Here, have some more!