That's something I find myself thinking often, "We're going to need a bigger boat." I DID NOT like that movie, but it gave me one of the best lines of my life. It applies equally to things, cubic space, strength, available time... Pretty much anything you can imagine, I need a larger vessel to contain as much of it as possible... Except potty training. I could live a content life without another day of potty training.
Proper use of toilet paper aside, I admit freely that I am a consumer. I love to have things. I love to surround myself with good, smart, loving people. I love to make lists of ideas and projects. I love a fridge full of blueberries and a pantry shelf of Pop Tarts....*sip* Coffee mugs! I love to have as many appropriate artsy items as my cabinet will hold. I love creating lists of videos on YouTube. I love building the Island of Sodor with Zee Boy -- it's never the same island twice. And yet...
And yet, even with so many blessings -- so much stuff, so much freedom of space and thought -- I always want "just a little bit more."
There are never enough specialized pieces of track, bridges, high rises, just-one-more-freaking-curve track for the island.
There are never enough teeny tiny friggin Lego pieces to walk on in the middle of the night.
There's always a need for a shade of ink/paint/glitter/mist/marker (Oh, the Tim Holtz markers that make me choke on a price tag!).
There's always a thought that a project needs this fabulous stamped image residing in my mind, or another stencil for the bacground, or another Cricut cartridge (where I again choke on the price tag).
There's always a need for that perfect "boy" paper -- and I'm grateful I use up what I have on hand in the process of pining for more, but....
Cups of coffee end too soon. I'm thinking of hooking up a restauraunt caraffe in my bedroom -- with a timer to start brewing at 5 AM.
Summer's great for playing outside, but bed time rears up all too fast.
Book shelves are meant to be filled! Zee Boy has learned (because I've told him) that I will always allow him to pick at least one book if we swing by Barnes & Noble; but I'll hold off on trains and Legos and Power Rangers Samurai Megazords till the cows come home.
You probably got the idea half a mile ago, when I started this post. There's always room, in my heart and imagination for MORE. It's a beautiful and frustrating concept to accept. I think it's on my mind a lot right now simply because I'm actively trying to NOT consume. It's a lot like trying to NOT think of the elephant in the room; but it's there all the same.
The paper is still pretty and sooooooo many different patterns and means to use it.... I have plenty on hand.
The paints and stencils are increasingly on my radar... but not necessary for daily survival.
And stamps! I don't even stamp, but I "think" I need to amass a baker's dozen right now.
Pop Tarts are carbo goodness, but not actually food. I don't know what they are, but my body recognizes them less and less as "edible" anyway.
Etsy has some amazing rings and bobbles, but it's a chore to don my wedding ring each day.
There are enough Legos under foot.
There is enough train track.
Zee boy has enough socks.... and underwear... for three weeks at least.
We have our health.... Okay, we all woke up this morning and are able to function as humans were designed.
We have a strong roof over our heads.
Even with the cupboards resembling Old Mother Hubbard's ... we have more than other families. We are spare.
*exhale*
We are blessed to float in the boat we've been given.
Perhaps, I should spend a little more time being consumed with gratitude instead.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Ugh! *blink blink*
When you fight cancer long enough, you make some very meaningful friends. For most of us "Day 1" of each cycle is a long day to be sitting around, doing nothing and feeling sorry for yourself. I'm actually quite blessed to be surrounded so often by extremely positive people; all fighters as well. None of us want to endulge in self pity; so we talk instead. We've gotten to know each other pretty well. We've even exchanged phone numbers and talked about getting together for coffee.
That was the big plan for one of the women I absolutely adore. Her name is Carol. She's a grandmother with spirit and determination to spare. I admit, I didn't know what to make of her at first. She had the same cancer as I do; same stage; but was always ready to head out for lunch or shopping once she was done getting chemo that day. At first, I thought she was just nuts; but I came to admire her and look forward to seeing her every couple of weeks. When our schedules stopped meshing, I'd ask the nurses and other mutual friends if they had seen her and what she was up to, now.
She and her sister would often make muffins to share with the group. It took a long time for me to try one -- simple matter of finding the right anti-nausea meds -- but when I did, I could tell you easily how glorious they were. The last batch I got to try had apples, I remember that. It will be one of my favorite memories of her.
She hated that she had to stop working -- loved to stay busy and independent!
She must have been crafty because she was always telling her sister they needed to go to JoAnn's later that day.
She loathed her walker and was extra peppy on the days she drove herself anywhere.
LOL! She hated pants; especially those with elastic waist bands.
I learned yesterday that she passed away a few weeks ago.
I don't know the exact details. I don't think I need to. My heart breaks for her family right now. They, and the world, lost a powerhouse of strength and courage.
.....
When you fight cancer long enough, you make some very meaningful friends. For most of us "Day 1" of each cycle is a long day to be sitting around, doing nothing and feeling sorry for yourself. I'm actually quite blessed to be surrounded so often by extremely positive people; all fighters as well. None of us want to endulge in self pity; so we talk instead. We've gotten to know each other pretty well. We've even exchanged phone numbers and talked about getting together for coffee.
That was the big plan for one of the women I absolutely adore. Her name is Carol. She's a grandmother with spirit and determination to spare. I admit, I didn't know what to make of her at first. She had the same cancer as I do; same stage; but was always ready to head out for lunch or shopping once she was done getting chemo that day. At first, I thought she was just nuts; but I came to admire her and look forward to seeing her every couple of weeks. When our schedules stopped meshing, I'd ask the nurses and other mutual friends if they had seen her and what she was up to, now.
She and her sister would often make muffins to share with the group. It took a long time for me to try one -- simple matter of finding the right anti-nausea meds -- but when I did, I could tell you easily how glorious they were. The last batch I got to try had apples, I remember that. It will be one of my favorite memories of her.
She hated that she had to stop working -- loved to stay busy and independent!
She must have been crafty because she was always telling her sister they needed to go to JoAnn's later that day.
She loathed her walker and was extra peppy on the days she drove herself anywhere.
LOL! She hated pants; especially those with elastic waist bands.
I learned yesterday that she passed away a few weeks ago.
I don't know the exact details. I don't think I need to. My heart breaks for her family right now. They, and the world, lost a powerhouse of strength and courage.
.....
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Up and Down the Rabbit Hole
Hello! Hi! Howareya?
Okay, it's been many moons since I've made a post. Wanna know how I can tell? Yes, besides checking the date of my last post.... This here new Blogger setup has my eyes wanting to screw up and around. I can rub my forehead and ask "WHY?!" or I can get over it.
I really did mean it when I last wrote of how badly I wanted to get back to blogging in general. I'm just trying to figure out HOW to incorporate it into my everyday life. It seems I've figured it out a bit today. We can all thank this site and this site.
Why can we thank Scrapbook.com? They hosted a kick-keester National Scrapbook Day on May 5th. I was blessed by a good husband and loving MIL (who nabbed m'boy at the first syllable) so that I could participate in the day's activities. And, I won a VERY awesome package. It arrived on my doorstep this past Monday:
If you're a lover of crafty goodness, you probably know exactly how awesome this quick pic is. In the bottom left is an art journal. I was geeked because, two night prior to touching all this delight, I went down a rabbit hole of artsy/inky/painty/stencily wonder. I decided I wanted to try this concept of art journaling. I'm thinking that book was a sign that surely, I must!
And so I have!
This is one of the blank calendar pages in the album. Initially, I used it to fill in important doctor's appointments, m'boy's school events, etc. Then, the month progressed, but my cancer treatments did not.
For anyone who is just joining this blog in progress, here's the breakdown:
April 1, 2011, I learned I had stage four cancer. Donkey balls, I know.
April 8, 2011, I had a plan of attack -- turned out to be about eight months of wicked chemo.
February 24, 2012, I got a brand new purty scar (named her Irene), as they removed the main tumor.
April 23, 2012, I returned to battle the remaining cancer with recommended radiation and chemo.
See that cute lil playing card with the seven? That's how many treatments of radiation I've received so far. I'm supposed to have 28. Had the door never broken for two days; a flood not have wiped out the roads; and my whites and platelets stayed up, I would have received treatment number...seventeen today.
*sigh* I feel frustrated; but my doctor's don't. That's what this page is mostly about. With the prompt from A Year in the Life an Art Journal; I am trying to remember to bloom where I am planted. I may have hit a brick wall in my progress. I may have been told A LOT lately to Regressa, Ud. Manana (Come Back Tomorrow). Damnit all if I'm not trying to bloom. Monday, I helped my mother plant flowers around the house -- though not the ones on the page -- pretty salmon geraniums and impatients that glimmer in the sun. Since then, I've been trying my hand at art.
And now, it is time to get m'boy from school and see what adventures he'd like to take on today.
As always, if you did, thanks for reading.
How will you bloom today?
Okay, it's been many moons since I've made a post. Wanna know how I can tell? Yes, besides checking the date of my last post.... This here new Blogger setup has my eyes wanting to screw up and around. I can rub my forehead and ask "WHY?!" or I can get over it.
I really did mean it when I last wrote of how badly I wanted to get back to blogging in general. I'm just trying to figure out HOW to incorporate it into my everyday life. It seems I've figured it out a bit today. We can all thank this site and this site.
Why can we thank Scrapbook.com? They hosted a kick-keester National Scrapbook Day on May 5th. I was blessed by a good husband and loving MIL (who nabbed m'boy at the first syllable) so that I could participate in the day's activities. And, I won a VERY awesome package. It arrived on my doorstep this past Monday:
If you're a lover of crafty goodness, you probably know exactly how awesome this quick pic is. In the bottom left is an art journal. I was geeked because, two night prior to touching all this delight, I went down a rabbit hole of artsy/inky/painty/stencily wonder. I decided I wanted to try this concept of art journaling. I'm thinking that book was a sign that surely, I must!
And so I have!
This is one of the blank calendar pages in the album. Initially, I used it to fill in important doctor's appointments, m'boy's school events, etc. Then, the month progressed, but my cancer treatments did not.
For anyone who is just joining this blog in progress, here's the breakdown:
April 1, 2011, I learned I had stage four cancer. Donkey balls, I know.
April 8, 2011, I had a plan of attack -- turned out to be about eight months of wicked chemo.
February 24, 2012, I got a brand new purty scar (named her Irene), as they removed the main tumor.
April 23, 2012, I returned to battle the remaining cancer with recommended radiation and chemo.
See that cute lil playing card with the seven? That's how many treatments of radiation I've received so far. I'm supposed to have 28. Had the door never broken for two days; a flood not have wiped out the roads; and my whites and platelets stayed up, I would have received treatment number...seventeen today.
*sigh* I feel frustrated; but my doctor's don't. That's what this page is mostly about. With the prompt from A Year in the Life an Art Journal; I am trying to remember to bloom where I am planted. I may have hit a brick wall in my progress. I may have been told A LOT lately to Regressa, Ud. Manana (Come Back Tomorrow). Damnit all if I'm not trying to bloom. Monday, I helped my mother plant flowers around the house -- though not the ones on the page -- pretty salmon geraniums and impatients that glimmer in the sun. Since then, I've been trying my hand at art.
And now, it is time to get m'boy from school and see what adventures he'd like to take on today.
As always, if you did, thanks for reading.
How will you bloom today?
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