Blessed? Oh yeah.

Took a bit of an adventure this week to the Home Show in Indianapolis.  Walked around, looked at some ideas for countertops and the like and listened to an HGTV celeb present on yard renovation.  Had a great time, fun with a special niece and got to see some of my kids and grandkids, her college daughter and boyfriend and had a nice dinner.  Headed home the next morning after making a couple stops at some favorite stores, and missing my turn, twice.
 

My niece received a text from her hubs that a skating party was being held at my house, three o’clock and see you there.  She looked at me, I looked at her..what?  My hubs making chili, her hubs making guacamole and clearing the ice and what?  How could this be happening? How did we lose control over party planning?

We weren’t going to be home until three o’clock!  My brain whirled around the condition of my bathrooms and kitchen when I left the day before … okay, they were in good shape.  Hubs was at work until noon, how was this going to happen? How was he making chili? Who was coming? What was needed? Should I make a phone call?

I decided against making a phone call and just crossed my fingers that these two men had everything under control.  They love people getting together as much as we do, and the fact that the skating was built in, well, they were super happy.

I walked in to a clean kitchen, no mess from the chili prep which simmered in my grandmother’s roaster, enough to feed an army, on the stove.  Check.  A quick review of the bathrooms and they were also in good shape.  Check.   Bowls, spoons, napkins…check.  Looked out the window to see the two men, shovels in hand clearing the ice into a nice rectangle, perfect for the hockey they envisioned. Who is coming? Less than 20, more than 10.  We got this.

The frozen lake was near perfect ice, the bonfire was slow to start but soon was in full flame. The full moon rose over the lake while in the opposing sky the sunset created blazing pink.   It was about the best winter day one could ask for.   It was magical.

Sunday brought a bit of cleaning up and some ibuprofen for the creaking hubs ~ then a text “Hey, we’re coming out to skate again today…heads up” 

Round 2.  Yes, please!

 

 

Break out the bubbly, we have something to shout about!
 

After months, no make that years, of discussion and sketches, setbacks and “not now”s, we have agreed upon a remodeling plan for our small, and intentionally small, home.  We are not adding on a huge amount of space, just comfort space really, and updating our kitchen.  What’s taken so long? Life, I guess.

This called for a celebration one night last week as we put a stamp on the kitchen plan, after reviewing what could easily be a hundred ideas.  Agreed upon counter materials and the glass doors for which I have been fighting.  Had a kitchen designer out to offer ideas and came back full circle with an understanding that our first plan, or a slight variation, was really the best idea for us, and how we are, how we live. 

When hubs came in from work, I had an appetizer plate ready, steaks coming up to room temperature and two well-chilled Manhattans waiting.  Neither of us are what you would call whiskey drinkers, but the Manhattan is family trademark drink and seemed right.  It is not often we truly take a moment and toast ourselves, but, we deserved it.   Getting to a point of agreement is, for us anyway, monumental.

You will likely be hearing a bit about the remodeling as we go through the next few months.  I am on a checklist of sorts to address every other room that isn’t being touched by the remodeling, so that isn’t left to do afterwards.  This includes the two biggest problem areas…the bedrooms upstairs, one of which is also my office.  No small feat.

So we’ve added shelves to the laundry room, swept out all the corners and washed down the floor trim.  Cleared the foyer and went through the closet, donating or tossing things not needed or used.  Gave the hall bath a fresh coat of paint, from ceiling to floor.  Next up is the master bedroom closet, which, I have tried to keep a managing hand in, at least my clothes and shoes, for a while now, but, have not gotten to the shelf and hubs clothes…his many, many shirts.  But, although it has been threatened, not scheduled to date.   I just read an article that said the best way to clean out a closet is to take everything, every last thing, out of it and make a decision as you go.  Sounds right, and imposing, but it’s gonna happen, people.

We had such a great summer on the lake last year that I don’t want to lose much time this spring and summer to this project, but, I also know its going to take some time to be completed.  I wish we had been excavating all through these warm days in January! Now that its 5 degrees I see less likelihood of this moving along as fast as I’d like.   I want to get going on it, probably faster than hubs does as I see his growing list of “to do” before the remodeling even begins, too.   It is crazy to think we are taking this on, but, will be so happy to have it done.  We’re keeping it small and manageable but more open and roomy.  We often say we still have to pay the property taxes, which have gone up in recent years, so we don’t want to price ourselves right out of here with anything more grand than what we need.

I am excited, nervous and above all, grateful.

Magic.

Last night was like many nights when I woke up having fallen asleep on the couch and then unable to get back to sleep.  Sometimes it takes watching something dumb on television to lull me back to sleep, sometimes it is working on the computer or just reading some fluff.  So, I found myself mindlessly deciding on something to do to “get tired” enough to stumble into the bedroom, try not to wake hubs, and go back to sleep.
 

Last night, I reviewed pictures from my trip to Disney with grandkids, particularly when the oldest grandgirl, now seven, visited the “salon” at Disney and was transformed into a princess for the day.  Well, she already was a princess, but, they helped her prove it.

From the moment she entered the dressing room and saw her gown laid out under a bright spotlight until her little pink clad feet hit the street walking up to the palace, and then the rest of the week, was a magical time for her, and for me.  I looked through those pictures and was taken back to that day, one of the best days of her life so far and certainly one of the best days for me.

I have another princess now, a new grandgirl, who will get her day at the castle, too.  Not sure when that will happen but I do know, it WILL happen.  It’s funny as I know not everyone feels the Magic Kingdom is a necessity for childhood, and I guess that is true.  Certainly many kids survive quite nicely without that experience, but, boy, there is nothing like it. Too expensive? Certainly.  Kind of lame? At times.   But, I am telling you, there is nothing like it.

I have a goal, a dream, to get all the grandkids to Disney at one time, with me there.  I want that joy, that excitement, that craziness, the tired grumpiness and the sticky gumminess, too.  I want to see their little faces and see that world through their eyes and their smiles, oh my, their smiles.

Tears were all over my face as I reviewed those pictures in the wee hours of the morning.  How can a then four-year-old turn a cranky old lady into a sniveling blob at three in the morning? Magic.

Chunk that.

Last week I wrote a little about organizing some stuff that has been accumulating around in my closet for quite a while.  It was followed up by a recommendation from one of the readers, who happens to also be my daughter, on a blog post several of her friends were following about a 40 bags in 40 days regimen, which happens to be timed with Lent.  Rather than looking at organizing the whole house, it breaks down the organizing by room.  Keep it, throw it out or donate it.  Do it and walk away.  A handy schedule was posted as a suggestion by the writer and listed some space as simple as Bathroom Vanity, and I thought this made sense.  She got that area done, by golly and bravo.  A small thing perhaps but something I don’t get to as often as I should.  

Back in the day, we use to call this chunking and it was a business buzz phrase as well.  Chunk it up into smaller projects, be satisfied with what you accomplished by chunks rather than beating yourself up over what you did not get done, resulting in getting more done.   It’s been a while since I thought about this method, but, I believe it to be a fairly solid practice.  There are so many times I put things off because I feel I can’t get it done, so I am right…I don’t get it done.  You know the saying you get what you expect? My point is, if I had chunked it, I would have at least gotten started and accomplished something! If I considered Night Stands, for example, instead of Bedroom as the goal, it is more manageable, and at least the Night Stands would be clean.  In the 40 bags method, having a garbage bag with you at all times is KEY, as well as some cleaning supplies.  I admit I am no good at taking cleaning supplies around with me, and seldom have a garbage bag, which means I am holding what I need to throw away in my hand, and don’t have a free hand to use that cleaning supply even if I did bring it along. 

Last year, when hubs started working on the basement space, I was promised shelves for storing some big items from the kitchen that are seldom used, and for some seasonal items.  He built big shelves, impressive shelves, and my plan was to make sure items were placed in clear totes so that I could see and retrieve what I needed easily.  The problem is, the shelves have been taken up by items he wished to organize as well and my shelf space never really materialized. I have a few things down there, the beach towels in a tote, for example, but my section of shelves? Not so much. 

This weekend, however, we made progress.  Some items were cleared from the shelves so I might be able to get some of the storage after all, but we also added two additional shelves in the laundry room and chunked that small room.  I vowed never to buy paper towels at Costco again.  I probably will buy toilet paper at Costco, however.  Just sayin’.

Lessons in a closet.

Over the last year I have performed a brutal, cutthroat clearing of my closet and donated piles of nearly-new, gently-worn and, in some cases, unworn clothing.  When I go in to the closet I am stunned there are still so many items there because I feel like I have practically cleared it.  The shoes alone are mind boggling, and what remains of the hanging “office” clothes could stock a store.  Especially in black, from my most recent job.  When I was working full-time years ago, I remember proudly wearing something different to work every day in December in red, for the holidays you see. 

I ventured in to my closet this morning in search of a particular article of clothing.  While there I discovered two pairs of new “yoga” pants that I had given up on finding on previous excursions.  Always the last place you look, as the saying goes.  I felt I must have accidentally donated those pants, and yet, here they were, stuck at the end of the closet rod, near my husband’s suits. I still must own way too much, was my first thought, if I couldn’t find these pants for six months.  But, yippee!

I do own a lot, but too much? How does one gauge too much?  I could wear something different every day for two weeks maybe.  Is that too much? I do have many different versions of the same “uniform”, the same long sleeve t-shirt in different colors and neck styles, also available in short sleeve, the same cardigan-type sweater in a few colors and lets not forget the knit yoga pants.  I typically will swap out the yoga pants for jeans if I leave the house.  I have two pairs of jeans for just this purpose. But, this wardrobe has replaced my work wardrobe.  

When I worked outside the home I had much more.  Many skirts, many slacks and jackets.  Those have all been donated and I hope are in circulation for someone who needed a pretty nice skirt for work or an interview.  I have cleaned out my side of the closet many times, and I am looking forward to doing so again this week, as I saw many items in there that I no longer need.   I have talked with husband a few times about his many shirts and the need to purge.  Someone could use those, I argue, if you aren’t wearing any longer.  I’m gutsy, but I won’t decide for him. 

I still wish I had that black lace skirt I went on a hunt for this morning…the one I wore to my daughter’s wedding in 2008 and never since…but I also recognize we do have much, and it hit me in the face this morning as I looked at my clothes and shoes.  Everything from food on the table and clean water to drink, to too many clothes ~ a warm house, a healthy family, cars to drive, friends and places to visit.  Lessons are everywhere, aren’t they? Even in closets, teachings are heard.  I am grateful this December day for all I have received.  I close out 2015 with a listening, joy-filled and grateful heart.         

Meloncholiday

It won’t come as a surprise to anyone, as I am sure you feel the same, but, I want my family together all the time. Always.  I woke up to a great day a few mornings ago when my three kids, their lovely spouses and all my grandchildren were in one spot, at one time, all at my table and all happy.   It happens rarely since son and his bride are many states away, but, even when living closer, it is hard to get them all here at once. 

So I relished my day and a half but only after a little melt-down first.  My emotions ran away with me for a 10-minute episode or so, completely out of the blue and overwhelming.  Something was said, can’t even tell you what, and it set me into a bit of a spin, excusing myself to sit alone in my bedroom for a bit.  Talking to myself (sure, I do it) to get over it.  I did not want to lose this day to THAT, whatever it was ~ I think we will call it Meloncholiday. 

Memories flooded my ol’ grey head…my kids as children, me as a child, my parents, my granddaughter’s first Christmas, little boys under Christmas trees with delight in their eyes, one dressed his first year in Elf pajamas and looking as sweet as could be, my nephew calling every Christmas morning to talk with my son, even though they would see each other in a half-hour.   There were also hopes for the future that raced through my mind as we anticipated a big reveal of our 2016 grandchild’s gender, too.   A new baby in the spring, building a small addition to our home, planning and remodeling, landscaping thoughts.   Will we travel, too? Will we enjoy continued good health? Will the kids visit? When will they see each other again?

So, it overtook me for a second.  Hearing the Seattle couple discuss the rest of their week and knowing that I wouldn’t be a part of it, that they won’t be a part of our week, and then they’ll be gone again.  It was tough on this old bird but, by heaven, I was not going to sit on my bed and cry away the afternoon.  Snap out of it, go enjoy your family, I said sternly to myself.  Blow your nose.  Meloncholiday is not today.

Revisit.

This winter is already a drag.  Brown and gray, boring and gloomy.  It’s not even truly “winter” yet as we haven’t arrived at that solstice, that magical day on the December calendar and I’m wishing for spring.  I’ve got a long row to hoe as they say. 

Which, gets me to wondering ~ what sayings will be out of fashion in another 10 years? Facetime me? I already talk to kids about something from an old TV show and they look at me, perplexed, smile through mumbled “I have no idea what you are talking about”.  No one is better at this than my 4 year-old grandson, who has a way of saying “I do not know.” that is at once mature and hysterical.  His second best saying is “Sure.” which he provides as a regular response instead of yes.  Spending time with him always reveals a unique side to his character and his curiosity.  He asked me several times over the weekend “Did you know I am not three anymore, but I am four?” Why yes, yes I did.  I was at that Chuck E. Cheese party. 

When my kids were little, my son, who is dark haired and dark eyed and his not quite a brother, slightly younger, blonde and blue eyed cousin were best friends.  My two grandsons are a repeat of this dynamic and I love watching them together, hear them negotiate, even if it does sometimes come to referee responsibilities just like 30 years ago.  I had to pull the “Hey! I just saw Santa looking in the window!” on the younger grandson, who wiped his face, looked surprised and quizzical as to how that could possibly be, but I’m his GiGi so it must be true.  I love that trick.  Although I never felt it as a mother, as his grandmother, I was moved by his sorrowful expression, his wiping his tears with his fat little hands, smearing and sniffling and checking my face to make sure I meant it.  If a grandmother’s heart could melt, that would have done it.   Those boys warm me to my toes, just like 30 years ago.

Now that I have had the time to think about it, I guess this isn’t such a gloomy time.  I have presents to purchase, wrap, bake, cook, stir.  My son and his wife are due in a few days from Seattle and my family will be all in one place for a brief and beautiful time.  There will be laughter and drama, no doubt, acceptance and excitement.  I’ll say something outdated and dumb, causing my daughters to shake their heads.  My grandkids will giggle, run and “tussle”.  My husband will undoubtedly do something wrong in the kitchen. 

This isn’t such a bad time, after all.  The joy of December cannot be found in the color of the ground, when there isn’t snow, or the sky, when there isn’t sun, but there is joy in December, for sure.