Green Tip Tuesday: Repair or Replace?

Yesterday I was talking with my friend Chellie and she was telling me the story of her camera falling off its hook and breaking.  I began immediately asking her questions about how she was going to replace it.  "We may replace it," she said "if we can get one on eBay for the same amount or cheaper than it costs to repair it."

Repair it?  I felt embarrassed because I hadn't even considered trying to repair it.  The fact is we live in a throw-away society where frequently, replacing something rather than repairing it, is cheaper, easier, and more exciting.  I can remember when my grandmother's vaccuum cleaner broke and I rode along with her to take it to get repaired.  I remember my mom had Sears come out to repair something gone awry with her Lady Kenmore washing machine and dryer that she had for nearly 20 years.  I am stunned to realize that I have gone through 4 vaccuum cleaners in the 20 years I've lived on my own and not once did I even consider repairing one when it stopped working.

I just bought something new.  Something better.  Something with bells, whistles, lights, and sounds.

My father-in-law has an entire cottage industry going in his garage: finding lawn mowers people put out in their trash, repairing them, and then selling them at the flea market.   He reduces, reuses, recycles, and makes money all in one.

So, as with all things I blog about, I decided to try out this phenomenom first.  I have a sewing maching that hasn't worked in years.  I have been seriously considering asking for a new sewing maching for Christmas but now I am going to try repairing this one first.

I went down to the basement.  Unboxed the broken machine, got out the manual and began following the maintenance instructions and troubleshooting guide.

I took it apart.  I oiled it.  I put it back together and tightened all the screws. 

I plugged it in and held my breath.  Maybe I'll have to call in a professional, I thought, but at least I'm trying.  I slid a remnant under the presser foot, turned on the machine, and voila!  It worked!  I have left that poor machine in a box for 4 years with the intention to replace it and all it needed was oil and its screws tightened!

Sometimes items need to be replaced.  Sometimes it's just time for something new and the old can be recycled.

But sometimes a little elbow grease will save money and reduce waste too.  Now that's what I call Green.

Green Tip Tuesday: Creating your own container garden

It has long been my dream to have an herb garden.  Two years ago my friend Chellie cultivated a little corner of her neighbor's garden and grew the herbs she used most commonly in cooking.  Every time we would be chatting on the phone and she'd casually say "I'm walking outside I'm going to cut some basil for dinner tonight." I reaffirmed that one day I too would have an herb garden.

This year is my year.  I'm not tilling up any soil, making any grandiose plans, or marking off rows in the backyard, I am merely purchasing 3 large planter pots that hook on the railing of my deck.

This planter is designed to fit over the deck railing.

Now all I have to do is fill these planters with herbs.  To make the most of the small planting space I am going to plant some herbs together.  Some herbs grow better together than others so I researched a little to see what will work best.

Pot 1: Sage, rosemary, and thyme

Pot 2: Cilantro, oregano,and parsley

Pot 3: Basil and mint

Mint grows very well in a planter environment because it has a tendency to take over gardens if not contained.  I plan to grow a lot of Basil because I love pesto and it takes a lot of Basil to make a small amount of pesto.

There are a lot of different ways to grow herbs in small spaces

I have only ever tried to grow tomatoes and I had pretty good success so I am feeling a little more adventurous.  I like that I can grow these herbs organically.  I like that I reduce my dependency on grocery stores by creating a garden.

Have you ever had an herb garden or done container gardening?  I would love any tips or hints you may have!

Speed Bathing

  This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I will not be featured as an Olympic athlete in the 2010 Winter Games.  I should be though, because my friends, I could take the Gold in Speed Bathing.

I have been training for 11 years.  Ever since my darling infant baby girl first began going into apoplectic shock the second I stepped foot into the shower, I took up the art of Speed Bathing.  And I'm finding that it's a hard habit to break.

What began as a sanity-saving-get-in-and-get-out-before-that-child-bursts-a-blood-vessel necessity has morphed into a reckless-do-I-really-need-to-shave-those-legs-today race that is fueled primarily by procrastination with a healthy dose of poor planning thrown in for good measure.

I don't tend to leisurely enjoy my toilette.

I intend to.  I really do.  I have purchased fluffy towels, yummy-smelling-soaps, a PVC-free shower curtain liner, decadent shampoos, and expensive razors.  I have my Burt's Bees Royal Jelly Body Lotion strategically positioned on the counter so after my shower I can take a moment and moisturize.  I have my razor blade suction-cupped to the shower stall where it won't get wet.  I even bought the girlie shaving cream.  I go into the shower with all good intentions to pamper, primp, exfoliate, shave, and condition.  That is, I go into the shower with those intentions oh, about once a week.  The problem is that the rest of the week I go into the shower with T minus 31 minutes until I have to: 1. pick up my daughter from school or 2.  be at an appointment that why I didn't just schedule it 15 minutes later I don't know, but that's poor planning for you or 3.  Steve is about to burst a blood vessel because instead of showering (like he thought I was doing) I was reading blogs and/or searching for Google Images, so now I have to get showered, blown dry, and dressed before he finishes eating toast.

Here is how it usually happens: I get home from the gym.  I intend to immediately shower so my back doesn't break out from contact with my sweaty sports bra.  I turn on the water.  The phone rings.  I have to look to see who is calling because it could be my daughter's school and therefore an emergency.  It's Debbie.  Or Chellie.  I decide to talk for a minute while the water heats up.  (These are very interesting women and if you talked to them you wouldn't be able to talk for a minute either, so no judging please).  I realize bathroom is filled with steam.  I feel guilty and turn water off.  I decide to unload/reload dishwasher while chatting, thus being productive.  I fold laundry.  I make beds.  I hang up coats.  I straighten cushions and throw pillows.  Conversation ends.  I really need to shower but look, there is my computer!  I'll just quickly check to see if I have any comments on my blog then I'll take my shower.  Hey, someone commented!  I'll write back so they know I appreciate them.  Oh look, one of the blogs I follow has a new entry. I read.  I follow links.  I find funny youtube video.  I email funny youtube video to friends and family.  I remember I haven't sent any e-cards lately.  I begin perusing e-cards.  I send some out.  Wait, don't I have a new bill in my email?  I read emails.  I pay bills.  I glance at clock on computer: 2:15!!!  I have to pick up my daughter at 2:45!!!  I race upstairs, turn on water while pulling off now-stiff-with-dried-sweat sports bra.  I jump in shower with water still cold.  I shampoo quickly.  No time to rinse and repeat!!  I mash some conditioner around and soap up.  Yes I really need to shave my legs but I don't have time!!!  I dry off.  Yes I really need to moisturize my alligator skin but I don't have time!!!  I blast my hair with a blow dryer while brushing my teeth.  I slap mineral make-up on with one hand while pulling out clean clothes with the other.  I throw on clothes, grab keys, phone, and coat and run out the door with 2 minutes to spare.

Gold medal caliber I tell you, Gold medal...

Green Tip Tuesday: Using Vinegar in the Laundry

I really like doing the laundry.  I like sorting the clothing by colors, it appeals to my sense of order.  I like remembering to rescue all of my favorite fitted T's or comfy sweaters from the dryer because it makes me feel like I am top of my chores.  I love the warm, clean smell of clothes fresh from the dryer.  My laundry "room" is really just a closet in my daughter's bathroom.  I don't have any fancy shelving or cabinets.  My washer and dryer are serviceable 11 year old Maytags.  I have absolutely no lighting in the closet, and almost no storage.  I always say that someday my laundry room will look this one, but right now, not so much.  I even love putting away all the fresh laundry because we (finally) bought a dresser last year and there is enough room to put everything away properly.

I began investigating "greener" laundry detergents about  5 years ago when my friend Chellie bought her new front-load washer and dryer.  The purchase came with a few years of free servicing and Chellie, who is good at remembering that kind of stuff, scheduled the visits.  The woman (!) who came to service the appliances complimented her on how clean her machine was after a year of constant usage.  The technician attributed the condition of the appliances to Chellie's commitment to not using petroleum-based detergents.  I am embarrassed to say that I honestly didn't realize that my old favorite Tide was a petroleum-based detergent!  I like to reduce our exposure to (and dependency upon) petroleum so I started using the Seventh Generation line of laundry products.   I still do use the laundry detergent, but let's face it, those products are

expensive and not always widely available, so I searched for something else to use as a fabric softener.  That's when I discovered vinegar. 

Vinegar is the perfect fabric softener.  It removes soap residue, freshens the load, brightens colors, whitens whites, and causes no harm to the environment.  My washing machine has a large center cup for adding fabric softener so I add 1/2 cup of white vinegar and about 8-10 drops of lavendar essential oil to each load.   The clothes smell great, they are soft (even the towels and jeans) and it costs about half of what Downy costs.  I buy Heinz white vinegar at the warehouse club in a 1.32 gallon jug for $3.99 and it lasts about 36 loads of laundry. 

The great thing about vinegar is it's versatility.  I can spray it directly on my workout clothes to remove sweat stains and odors.  I can run it through my machine with hot water to remove any musty smells in the washer.  I can spray it on stains to help them dissolve.  I can combine it with baking soda and really whiten socks. 

Perhaps if you have some vinegar in your pantry you could try adding it to just one rinse cycle, just to see if you like it?  Or put some in a small spray bottle and very lightly mist shirts you are about to iron.   I like using products with which I can create dressing for salad, scour my coffee pot, and clean my clothes.

Be green, your socks will get whiter.

Things are bad and It's Deb and Chellie's fault

My house is in chaos. I have mostly taken down the Christmas decorations (though there is one big box in the living room that is too heavy for me to carry...hint hint Steve) and a few miscellaneous items that I forgot about when I did the major taking down. My laundry still needs to be folded. My bathroom still needs to be cleaned. My bed is unmade.

Basically my chores aren't done.

Hey, don't blame me, blame Deb and Chellie. You see I do my chores while talking on the phone. Housework is boring and lonely so I depend on my girls to get me through. Frankly they haven't been holding up their end of the deal lately, citing things like work, studying, work, hair appointments, and work as excuses to not distract me from the drudgery, the work, the sheer annoyingness of making the dirty clean over and over again.

Usually when Deb or Chellie are not available I listen to my iPod or a book on CD. However, it is Deb's fault that I can't listen to a book on CD because she got me into this Jen Lancaster fixation and my local library didn't have any Jen on CD and I can't contaminate Jen's musings with another author, now can I? It's Chellie's fault I can't listen to my iPod because after years of listening to Chellie's devotion to the Bare Naked Ladies (and other adult bands) I actually listened to them and now I'm finding my musical tastes are perhaps moving beyond Wham!, Madonna, and the soundtrack to the Lion King so my iPod songs don't really feel like a fit right now. (Though I am still preeeetty happy with Abba selection).

If nothing else is available I will sometimes (in desperation) entertain myself by creating blog posts in my head while doing the mindless task of cleaning. I can't do this anymore because (Deb's fault) Deb suggested I actually write down some of these ideas instead of letting my brilliant posts drift away with the minutia in my mind and I can't possibly write down a blog idea while scrubbing a toilet, right?

Finally when I am absolutely desperate for something to think of while cleaning I mentally re-decorate the room I'm cleaning. This is a last resort because all-too-frequently those kinds of thoughts lead to dissatisfaction with the room, a compelling urge to put my ideas into reality, and an expensive (financially) and conflicted (maritally) result all because I can't make a bed without a buddy. Even this not-perfect solution isn't available to me because (Chellie's fault) Chellie agreed with me when I said I would call American Express and get my statement closing date changed which led American Express to extend this billing cycle by 13 days which threw the budget into meltdown and thus any redecorating on my part would result in us having to eat the cat's food because we couldn't afford groceries.

See? My friends have some 'splainin to do, yes?

Diary of a Sugar Free Life (Volume 1)

I am addicted to sugar. I have admitted it, danced around it, justified it, resisted it, accepted it, and fought against it. I am finally doing something about it. I have gone "off sugar" before but never truly cold turkey. I have resisted cookies but still eaten yogurt (my Stonyfield Farm organic yogurt has an astounding 26 grams of sugar in a 6oz. serving!). I have refused cake and candy but still put jelly on my toast. And peanut butter sandwich. And bagel. And anything else that would hold jelly. I have been diligent in refusing soda but still used maple syrup on my pancakes. And waffles. And French toast. And oatmeal. And anything else that would hold maple syrup.

In other words I wasn't really ever "off sugar" before in my life. I have changed the source of my sugar but I never really gave it up. The food log that follows is exactly what I've eaten for 2 days. It's clearly not a diet plan or even very good nutrition but it's a realistic account of how much effort it's been to avoid sugar. It's been 2 days of eating foods that contain no more sugar than 4g/serving, here's how things are going:

Day One
Time to eat breakfast and I'm not even sure what to eat. I think about not even having fruit because of the fructose but decide that since my frozen blueberries are unsweetened and my smoothie contains almost every important vitamin, mineral, roughage, and supplement I get all day that I'd better not drop it yet. I have the smoothie: 4oz. plain soy milk, 4oz water, 1/2 scoop whey protein(unflavored), 1 scoop psyllium husk, 1 Omega 3 supplement packet, 1 vitamin E capsule (broken open), 1 royal jelly capsule (broken open), 1 banana, 1/2 c. blueberries. Blend. Drink.

Lunch was very difficult. I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich almost every day because I love peanut butter and jelly and I am lazy about cooking, especially for myself. If pb&j seems like too much trouble I have cold cereal. If even that is beyond me I have yogurt. If I'm going to be running errands I have a protein bar (Balance bar, cookie dough flavor: 17 grams sugar). I stood in the kitchen for a long time contemplating eating a pb&j without j. Could it be done? Would I survive? Would it be palatable? I decided to go ahead and try it and if I simply couldn't stomach it I would heat up some tomato soup. I was extremely surprised to find that I liked it! I put natural peanut butter on both pieces of whole grain bread and amazed myself by not really missing the jelly like I thought I would.

Snack: no snack. Unable to figure out what to eat I simply gave up.

Dinner: Steve wasn't home so my daughter talked me into macaroni & cheese and carrot sticks.

Dessert: sigh. No dessert. I did have a single sip of the pomegranate martini Steve made when he got home. The sip was very small and since I don't like martinis, was not satifsying.

Day Two:
Snow day, everyone home, I made oatmeal for breakfast and nearly wept as I sprinkled 2 bowls with brown sugar and one bowl with nothing. No brown sugar for me but I surprised myself again by not missing it because I had cooked the oats with cinnamon, nutmeg, and a pinch of cloves. The resulting spices (combined with the butter I did put on the oatmeal) made the taste really good without being sweet. I didn't know food could be good without being sweet!

Lunchtime was easy because I had planned ahead and started thinking about lunch before I was really hungry and tempted to eat 'whatever.' I reheated leftover ravioli with tomato sauce (canned sauce, Organic Arrabiata, 4g sugar).

Snacktime was easy too because I once again had a plan: I had a few carrot sticks, a few walnuts, and a piece of Cracker Barrel sharp cheddar cheese. I don't usually eat the dairy but I can't be vegan, sugar free, and sane all at the same time.

Dinner was hamburgers and french fries but I made it all myself and only the bun contained sugar (Organic whole grain bun, 3g of sugar).

So that's where I am so far. I have been inspired by Chellie who for some reason continues to believe in me despite the fact that she has seen me off the wagon more than on. I am inspired by my neighbor who is healing from breast cancer and is looking to me to support her effort to not eat sugar. Mostly I am motivated by the fact that I don't have headaches, I don't have PMS, and my eye doesn't twitch when I don't' eat sugar. Coincidence?

I'm blogging this journey to keep me motivated, keep me honest, and remind me of my victories and maybe even my defeats. I can't believe I am embarking on this journey 3 weeks before Christmas but when is there really a good time to quit an addiction? I've put it off so many times for so many good reasons that even I don't believe myself anymore.

Do or do not, there is no try - Yoda

Well, she ain't Martha Stewart...

We just had house guests. Just saying those words can strike fear into hearts. Just about everybody has a fantastically funny/horrific story about house guests. I am no exception. I have a love/hate relationship with having guests to stay: on the love side I love being with family and friends. I love entertaining. I love sharing my space with those I love and who love me. I love sharing my new spot in the world. I love having casual chats, eating together, sharing unexpected laughs, and learning new things about the people in my life. On the hate side I hate my tendency to worry that everything is not perfect. I hate my struggles to let go of the Martha Stewart Entertaining Guide that runs like a ticker tape through my head as I measure my dinners up against impossible standards. I hate that I care about things that aren't important and then hate that I worry that I spent so much time caring about unimportant stuff that I missed important stuff along the way. Let's face it, I'm no Martha Stewart.
Sigh.

My BF Chellie and her family just left this morning. They were only with us a short time: barely 3 days. I felt like it was a really great visit. That is, I felt that way until they left, then I began to worry:
should I have stayed up later chatting instead of sticking to my routine? Why didn't I make it a priority to make Sangrias? Did I spend too much time hurrying the kids from activity to activity thus killing the natural-vacation-timeless-quality that inspires wonderful memories? Why didn't I pull my daughter out of school for 2 days, what's the big deal? Why didn't I make an apple pie like I'd originally planned? Why didn't I plan crock-pot meals so I didn't have to rush off to cook dinner? Did I spend enough one-on-one time with the kids? Why didn't we plan when we'd get together again?


Okay, (breathe), I feel better now. That's the ticker tape that starts to play for me. I don't think I'm the only one who has thoughts like these, thoughts that are a mixture of insecurity, guilt, regret, worry, and underneath it all: love. I love this family and I want their visit to be perfect. I want their visit to feel like a vacation. I want them to want to come back. I want their children to shout for joy at the prospect of spending 14 hours in a car if it means they get to stay at my house. I want Chellie's husband to beg to vacation each year in Massachusetts.

I recognize the truth in my desire to be a good hostess for my guests. I also recognize the narcissm. I want to be the hostest with the mostest. I want visits to my home to enter family lore as dream vacation destinations. I am not entirely confidant in my roles as chef, entertainment director, maitre'd, concierge, and tour guide. Really the only role in which I feel totally comfortable is that of friend. Perhaps that is the lesson I should take away from this experience: concentrate on being a good friend and let everything else fall into place.

Being a good friend...hmm...being open, honest, caring, loving, altruistic, kind, and patient. That sounds to me like everything I could ever want in a host.

So thank you for coming to my home Chel. Thank you for getting a pet sitter, packing up the house, the car, the kids, and the husband and hauling everyone 850 miles northeast. Thank you for understanding my limits as hostess and as a friend and for loving me anyway. I miss you already.

Come back soon.

Grace #14 Our Adopted Families

I have heard various versions of an expression that goes something like "Sisters are the friends you're born with but friends are the sisters you find along the way." I like expressions like that because they link me to like-minded individuals who have experienced that sometimes, regardless of how much you may want things to be different, your family members may not be your best friends.

My relationship with my family members is distant: geography, age differences, and personality differences have taken their tolls over the years and left me with a slightly nostalgic, benign, and comfortable relationship, but not a close one.

I am, however, blessed with adopted families. Entire families with whom I have connected, Steve has connected (enough) and with whom our daughter feels a cousin-ship. Not having a lot of blood-relation cousins, these adopted cousins are invaluable to us.

It seems I have picked up an adopted family in each city/state in which I have lived. Not unlike people who collect a treasured souvenir of their travels, my adopted families serve to help ground me with the past, nourish me in the present and shepherd me into my future.

You know who you are. I know who you are. And you are all Graces.

Is that Neosporin supposed to make you look sexy?

I have been debating the to-bikini-wax-or-not-to-bikini-wax question all winter. Finally, with my waxing appointment more than a week away and my bikini area looking a little too unkempt for my taste, I decided just to shave. I have not had a lot of shaving success stories in this area, which is why the bikini wax question became a question in the first place. I have asked friends for advice, but frankly my friends are not as hirsute as I am and really cannot understand the depth of the problem. Debbie, who to my knowledge has not bikini waxed, told me to go for the waxing. Chellie, who to my knowledge has absolutely no unsightly hairs anywhere on her body, suggested that if I shave I use Neosporin afterward to reduce the red bumps and lesions.

I shaved. I Neosporined.

I am a mass of red bumps, welts, lesions, chicken skin and stubble.

Is this really the sexy, smooth look for which I was aiming??

Now where do I go from here? Do I wait a few weeks to get the required 1/4" stubble to be able to wax? Do I try shaving again? Do I just give it all up and wear swim shorts? And it's not just about swimming: frankly I do not wish to slink into the bedroom, toss a naughty look at Steve, bare all, and have him swoon from the Bactine fumes as my Neosporined thighs glisten in the moonlight. Surely I am not forced to painful and expensive sessions with electrolysis just to keep my Eastern-European-Women's-Wrestling-Team genes at bay?

I don't know what to do. Perhaps I can train Steve to get excited when he smells Neosporin. Perhaps I can try using a man's razor with the patented lift-and-cut blades. Perhaps I can make peace with the fact that I am a hairy beast and that is how God made me.

Perhaps I can purchase skirted lingerie, wear boy shorts, buy swim shorts, and just never, ever look down again.

Sex, it's what's for dinner

I have been thinking about sex a lot lately. My 10 year old daughter has not yet asked where babies come from and I am beginning to wonder if I should be broaching the subject, my friend Deb sent me a really hot book to read, hormonally my body just seems to be in one of 'those phases', and we recently watched a Bond movie with Daniel Craig (and who is hotter than Daniel Craig? No one!).

My friend Chellie told me that Oprah (who has been banned from my TiVO for having too much political and pop culture stuff) (though I secretly still like her) had a segment about talking to your kids about sex. There are diagrams and guides you can download from her website, there are .wmv clips you can watch about talking to your kids about sex, there are even books you can buy to help you introduce the subject. I don't feel like I need any of these props, I simply need to have an interested audience and right now my daughter doesn't appear all that interested. I wish the subject of sex wasn't so taboo among so many people so I could interview them and ask when they started having 'the talks' so I would know if I should be talking, even if she isn't interested in listening. I think I have laid the groundwork pretty well: using the anatomically correct names for body parts, having no embarrassment about normal body functions that occur down there, being open to and answering any questions about my period, or which bras I like best, or why I am a fan of cotton underpants. I have even asked her "hey, have you ever wondered how babies are made?" and she very nonchalantly answered "not really." Well, I guess that answers that question. I know she'll get the information when she's ready. I just hope she gets the information from me!

As for the really hot book I've been reading, well, since my daughter is at that age I have taken to acting like any self-respecting-teenage-boy and hiding my porn under my mattress!

Pity Party or Mardi Gras?

Last week I had no posts. No weekly wellbeing. No grace. Nada. What was I doing, you may ask? Well I was wallowing in self pity of course! I couldn't take time away from my own personal pity party to write, I had to concentrate on financial ruin! Single car-dom! Homelessness!

But like all parties, this one had to end, the house had to be cleaned up, and life had to go on.

I was recently telling my husband that I'm the one you want in a crisis. I'm the calm, cool, collected character who can stop the bleeding, pack up the house, bake the 4 dozen cupcakes, or pay the bill. It's after the crisis that I fall apart. Sometimes it's so long since the crisis has taken place that even I don't immediately understand why I am falling apart. In this case, it has taken me 5.5 months to really feel the move from Ohio to Massachusetts. Last week, I felt it. Usually in these situations where I might have uncomfortable feelings I like to self-medicate with sugar. Enough chocolatey-goodness and I can't remember ever having had a bad feeling. This year I've decided that I'm just going to see what life would be like without sugar.

Well, it's not good, I can tell you that much.

I haven't returned to sugar, but like any recovering addict I can tell you that I am taking it day by day, hour by hour and Dear Lord do I need a sponsor! And how did I get through, you may be wondering? Well, I'm glad you asked: I bitched. Almost nonstop. I bitched to Chellie. I bitched to Debbie. I bitched to Steve. I would have bitched to more people if I hadn't gotten their voicemail (perhaps the tone of my voice gave my intended topic away...). I sang the blues 'til even I couldn't stand the sound of my voice anymore. Steve had to spend so much time "talking" to me that he has had to play violent war games on the Wii every night for three days running just to recover. I feel a lot better though and I discovered that one way to ensure my own wellbeing is to occasionally have a little-bitch-fest, so I guess I did have a weekly wellbeing last week even without knowing it. AND I discovered how grateful I am for 2 friends and a husband who will by-god-listen-to-the-endless-litany and not hang up/leave the room. So I even discovered a hidden Grace during the week.

Still, I did begin to wonder how long I could keep the pity party up, I mean if it had gone on any longer I was going to have to hand out purple and green beads, flash my boobs, and call it Mardi Gras!

52 Weeks of Wellbeing

I really enjoy Julie's 52 Graces and the subsequent inspiration it has given to Deb and Chellie as they count their own graces. The things I really noticed that were missing from my life after I started focusing on the things for which I am grateful were the little things I do for myself to keep/encourage my mental/physical wellbeing. There are so many times when I could do something nice for myself and I simply forget to do it. Occassionally in the past I have tried keeping a journal or writing things down on a calendar to remember to include a nicety for myself but the writings and the reminders have always ended up going by the wayside for one reason or another.

Yesterday it occurred to me that I could be accountable to myself if I included a goal each week in my blog. Something I do just for me: could be large, probably will be small, but a nicety, just the same. Something to pamper myself. Add comfort to my life. A small indulgence perhaps. I'm starting small: just one thing I'll try for one day just once a week. I'd like to just see where this leads.

So..today, immediately after this post, I am going to sit down and do my nails. My hands are dry and chapped, my nails are too long, and one of my cuticles is looking ragged. I have laundry to do and food to prepare for a party we are having tonight, and a house to clean. That's okay, all those things can get done after I take a moment for me.

52 Weeks of Wellbeing. How different could all our lives feel if each week, just for moment, we concentrated on our own wellbeing? I, for one, am going to find out!

Home is where the heart is

We just returned from an 8 day whirlwind visit to Ohio. Ohio has been home to me for about 37 years. I have lived all over Ohio, but almost always in Ohio. Ohio is home, right? I guess it's true that you can never go back, because being in Ohio felt familiar, but not homey. We went first to Toledo, our most recent home for the past 4 years. I loved driving on the smooth pavement, seeing the clearly marked streets and knowing where every street went, and how to get all the places I needed to be, but mostly I just loved seeing Deb and all my friends. I loved being in Deb's kitchen. I loved sitting in her den. I loved riding around in her van. Mostly I just loved the people - the place had little meaning to me.

After Toledo we went to Cincinnati. Cincinnati was once my most favorite place in the world. I loved my house there, my friends, the city, the shopping, the weather, everything. Now, Cincinnati is just where Chellie lives. Once again, the place has lost its meaning to me. I love being at Chellie's house. I love the natural light, the tall ceilings, the food she cooks. I love the ease I feel from our long-standing friendship. I love how settled she is in her home.

Final stop on the tour was my mom's house. I was done. I wanted to go home. I honestly didn't want to stop, but I'm glad we did. I love my mom's house too. I love her yellow walls and bright red furniture. I love how her belongings, decorating, and even the way her house smells are slowly morphing into one of my all time favorite places in the world: my grandmother's house. I know my mom will not see this as a complement.

Then, finally, we were home. The house smelled old, musty, like wood and damp. It's not our house, but right now it is our home. It felt so good to be home. We took this trip for many reasons not the least of which was to help our daughter feel more at home in Massachusetts by feeling not at home in Ohio. It worked. She couldn't wait to get home. She wanted to stay in all day on Sunday and just enjoy being home. I had gotten so used to thinking about how much I don't know in Massachusetts that I had lost track of how I much I do know. I do know which grocery store is my favorite. I do have a favorite dry cleaner, library, post office, and bookstore. I am creating a life here and it took leaving it for awhile to make me see that.

Ohio is a nice place to visit...but I wouldn't want to live there.

Happy New Year!

After a long hiatus I am back to blogging. It feels good to return to writing, kind of like putting on a comfortable pair of pajamas and rereading a favorite book. Our family spent the past 8 days visiting family and friends in Ohio. Whilst there I came clean about my blogging pasttime with Chellie and my mom. I was self conscious when I found out that Steve was reading my blog. I am self conscious knowing that Chellie or my mom may be reading my blog, but I couldn't hold the knowledge in any longer. I think I'd like to be a writer. I think I'd like to entertain, inform, and encourage people with my words. Debbie encourage me to identify myself as a freelance writer this year. Steve laughed saying that right now the emphasis is all on the "free" part. That's okay. Do what you love and the money will come.

I have so much energy for this new year: I will kick the sugar addiction, make all my own cleaning and beauty products, find a new house, decorate my new house in an eco-friendly manner, become a paid writer, buy only amazing quality organic sheets, and hand make all of the gifts I give. Sound ambitious? Well, it is. I am. I am ready. I am energized. I have been slumbering away the past 4 months, conserving my mental energy, building up my reserves, and learning what is most important to me. Now is the time for action!

I frequently feel this way at the beginning of a new year. I'd like to say that this feeling has historically lasted through December, but generally it has given way to apathy, despair, boredeom, disillusionment, and laziness sometime around Valentine's Day. This year will be different because I am different. I had never blogged before. I had never taken this much time to find a new home. I had never lived in Massachusetts. I had never regularly and thoughtfully explored what is important to me and why it is important. This blog helps me to do that.

So, onward and upward, Happy New Year, I am woman, hear me roar, and Get Ready, Get Set...

...I am Ready to Go!