Showing posts with label getting to know me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label getting to know me. Show all posts

Monday, January 17, 2011

Blush

Today there is rain again, the morning is heavy with darkness, and we are out of cat food. Still...this morning there is good coffee, the ladies are laying again after a long egg-less spell, my family is safe, and I am happy.

Here in the first blush of a new year, I haven't yet found a moment to pause...to really consider the days that lay before me. There's a lot of living in the moment going on around here. I've been reading others words for the coming year, goals and resolutions that resonate with me in some way or another. As much as I love list making - oh I really do you know - I haven't made an actual 2011 list. I think I might just roll with it this year and make it up as I go along. I do know that I want to be brave.

It's funny what being brave used to mean to me, compared to what it means now. When I was young, being brave was driving cross country in a car barely held together with duct tape and radio wires - or a yearly solo wilderness camping trip - or moving to an unknown city at the drop of a hat - or jumping off of tall bridges into icy cold rivers - or first kisses. Being brave is something altogether different now, and harder too I think.

I can imagine you reading this, perhaps thinking that my reflections on life are all well and good but, 'didn't she say something about a secret?' You don't miss a trick do you?
Some of you have been visiting long enough to know that I have a passion for music, and that I indeed make music myself. My stitching has slowed down to make way for another sort of crafting. I've taken on a secret project (soon to be much less secret)...and I want to make sure that I say this in the coolest possible way...

This weekend we had the first rehearsal for the new album.

And by 'the new album', I mean the only album. In the spirit of bravery, and to truly live in the moment, I am going to be recording a bare bones album with the help of some wonderful musicians who are getting paid in homemade cookies and beer. All my own material - made to sound gobs better with the talent of afore mentioned musicians. I'm a bit a-flutter about it, excited and nervous, even though it may just end up gifties for unsuspecting family and friends. It is indeed a Brave New Year!

To the sweet reader who sent me a note guessing that I was pregnant, I do hope you are not too disappointed.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Well Hello

I'm back. After a number of issues with blogger, my camera, and a bit of overextending myself...I think I have put things to right again. I've gotten a little off track and so I'm starting fresh.

Remember my little "Self Portrait Challenge"? It's on again! These were taken in the first days of the new year. The first good look at myself of 2011.

I had just dyed my hair a shade called 'Egyptian Plum'. When I told the Engineer over the phone he thought I had said 'Egyptian Slum', to which he replied, "That sounds awful!" So, now I am the mom at school pick up wearing what may or may not be pajama pants, and hair the color of an exotic Slum...which, if you're curious, is vaguely purple.

How about you, wouldn't you like to capture yourself on the precipice of a new year?

I'm off to see what I've been missing out there in blogland. I'll be back next week, with crafty bits and possibly to share a little secret I've been keeping.

Have a grand weekend!

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses


It's only fair that I should tell you right up front, you should grab a sweet-salty snack and a cup of something thirst quenching...
For today, I am going to tell you a story. It is a true story that I have been working up to tell for some time. A story that started about 6 years ago, I reckon. It will take two whole posts to tell it. It's an odd kind of story because it only has a beginning, so far. There's no middle, or end, or tidy summary to bring it all back home.

It is a story about being a mama, a story about not 'hiding under a pile of coats' - but mostly, it is a story about a girl who loves wild horses.

Long ago, but not so long ago that I don't remember it perfectly... The Engineer and I, happily ensconced in our little green cottage, had a conversation and made a decision. We weren't going to "try" so to speak, we were going to just stop trying not to. Little did we know that someone had already got the memo a couple of weeks before us. I do think the engineer was a hoping there would be more 'work' involved in the getting there but, we were both thrilled.

It was a hard pregnancy. I was very tired and very sick. I couldn't even drink water, I had to have water with bubbles and lemon to get my recommended daily intake. There was one week where all I could get down were chocolate milk shakes, ok, that wasn't the worst week. It's all a bit of a blur now though, I mean, it's heavy work, I was making a person. That's how I thought of her from the beginning, as a person. Of course I imagined a baby, a bit of fluff and deliciousness; still, there was a person there, of us - but wholly herself.

The morning/afternoon/night/morning she finally made her debut, the most beautiful daughter in the entire world arrived. We held our breath until we got home.

It is probably best if we jump forward a bit, otherwise I could easily regale you with endless scrumptious baby stories, sleepless nights, how every time we went to market people would approach us and tell me what a remarkable child I had - 'Like a sunflower!' 'That one will change the world!' Oh, see how I managed to slip that in?

This fearless tree hugger, climber of slippery slopes, determined escaper of fortresses, super star unparalleled, rock n' roller, mover and shaker, leap before looking dynamo, full of gusto, stubborn ingenious wild child, laughing love bug, force to be reckoned with, complex little person ... was my kid!

When she bumped into walls and furniture, I attributed it to her leap before looking credo. When she ran into the street after many warnings against it, I thought her fearlessness was to blame. When she discovered how to unlock the door and make it a block away before I could catch up with her at 2 and a half years old, I was terrified and we installed a safety lock on the front door. Tenacious and determined, she was a child that needed constant vigilant supervision to keep her from tumbling down the rabbit hole or hopping a plane to Mexico.

She hated the vacuum cleaner as if it were a fire breathing dragon. Bright lights bothered her. She loved water like she was a fish. She could not ever resist dipping her hands in her dish of yogurt and rubbing it all around like lotion. To get her attention, I often had to hold her shoulders while I talked to her, even then she would have a hard time focusing on me. Looking back, I can see many things more clearly than I could at the time.

I started to notice that one of her eyes seemed to wander or not focus along with the other eye. When I brought this up to our new pediatrician, he told me not to worry about it, that everything seemed fine. Of course that is what a mother wants to hear but, 'Dr. Handsome's' cavalier attitude didn't quite sit right with me. When I brought up some other concerns, he told me not to overreact. Now, hold on a minute. I am not one to overreact, I don't rush her to the doctor when she has the sniffles, I don't freak out when she has a fever but, I had some real concerns here and I was being brushed off.

A couple of weeks later, I took her to a pediatric eye doctor to alleviate my niggling concern. Lo and behold, the child has astigmatism and needed glasses right away. That was not the end of it though. As I said, there were other concerns.

A huge debt of gratitude is owed to one preschool teacher extraordinaire. Due to her attention and vigilance, she had concerns of her own and very kindly talked with me about them. Because of her experience and her exceptional help, we found our way to the county's early childhood development team. An evaluation was done, along with heaps of paperwork, and the outcome was a diagnosis of Sensory Processing Disorder.

-From Wikipedia: Sensory processing disorder or SPD is a neurological disorder causing difficulties with taking in, processing and responding to sensory information about the environment and from within the own body (visual, auditory, tactile, olfaction, gustatory, vestibular and proprioception). For those with SPD, sensory information may be sensed and perceived in a way that is different from most other people. Unlike blindness or deafness, sensory information can be received by people with SPD, the difference is that information is often registered, interpreted and processed differently by the brain. The result can be unusual ways of responding or behaving, finding things harder to do. Difficulties may typically present as difficulties planning and organising, problems with doing the activities of everyday life (self care, work and leisure activities including work and play), and for some with extreme sensitivity to sensory input; sensory input may result in extreme avoidance of activities, agitation, distress, fear or confusion.-

But what does this mean really? And what is going to happen now? What do we do, where do we go, who do we talk to?

As I have said, I am not a person that often overreacts but, on the rare occasion, I have been known to 'hide under the coats'. I was torn between the two for a minute. I had to think... what did this change about my child? Nothing. What did this change about me being a mama? I didn't know yet but, I figured I had better find out and do the best that I could. So, now I just needed to figure out the first step.

First things first, we say sayonara to 'Dr. Handsome', and say hello to a whole team of doctors, therapists, teachers and other mostly helpful folks. Read a lot, ask a lot of questions, try to understand the paperwork, have meetings, filter information, go with your gut, laugh, cry and generally put one foot in front of the other. And still, it's a bit like stumbling around in the dark.

The Engineer and I kept wondering to ourselves, what is it like through her eyes? If we could for just a moment, be her and understand...then maybe we could help ourselves be better parents to this amazing girl.

Stanley Greenspan, the author of "The Challenging Child", has an interesting analogy to help imagine what having SPD might feel like.
"Imagine driving a car that isn't working well. When you step on the gas the car sometimes lurches forward and sometimes doesn't respond. When you blow the horn it sounds blaring. The brakes sometimes slow the car, but not always. The blinkers work occasionally, the steering is erratic, and the speedometer is inaccurate. You are engaged in a constant struggle to keep the car on the road, and it is difficult to concentrate on anything else."

Everyday I am learning new things about this disorder, and how it manifests in my daughter. I can't speak for what it means to any other child, parent, or family. I wont get into any controversy that surrounds this disorder. I can only tell you what it means to me, what I feel and experience as a mama.

This feels like a good place to pause and take a deep breath. You have been so kind and I thank you for staying with me up to this part. The story will be continued in my next post, in which I tell you how going to the market has turned me into a Ninja.

P.S. The title of this post was taken from Pony Girl's favorite book "The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses" by Paul Goble. I highly recommend it.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Seven Things

The lovely lady over at Harmony and Rosie has passed on a very nice award to me, The Versatile Blogger Award. Such a nice thing for her to do I think. The caveat is, I must share 7 things about myself that you don't already know. Now, I normally keep my blog award and tag free but, I must admit to enjoying reading what others have said about themselves so it seems only fair that I play along.
Let's see, what little tidbits can I share?

1. The last day job I had before Pony Girl came along, was at a wholesale essential oil and botanical ingredient company. I was one of the buyers for the ingredients that came from all over the world. I spent a lot of time talking with suppliers, growers, distillers etc. in countries from Australia, Egypt, Slovakia, Madagascar, China, Nepal and all points in between. I sampled and ordered French lavender oil and precious (expensive) Neroli oil. I discussed the properties of Shea butter with the women's collective in Africa who produced it. I loved the oils and learning about them, it was fascinating and intriguing. The company and it's owner, were less than desirable however.

2. When I was in my 20s I made and sold bath, tea and other herbal products, using essential oils, herbs and such. My business name was "Widow Creek".

3. One of my favorite jobs that I ever had, was as a bartender in a Hell's Angels biker bar in San Francisco. Those burly bikers took very good care of me, they referred to me as "Little Sister".

4. I have had both of my front teeth knocked out twice. Both times due to car accidents - 5 years apart. I miss my original teeth still.

5. When I was 12, I wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer.

6. When I was young, I had a strange fear of Monchhichi dolls.

7. My first love was a 1963 Ford/Mercury Comet. Oh how I loved that car! It was a sad day when I had to sell it.

Well, I hope that was at least vaguely interesting. Now I think it's my duty to pass along this little award to a few deserving souls.

1. Homegrown Insanity
2. Little House in Paradise
3. Schtuff at Home
So ladies, if you would like to play along, we want to know all about you! I will understand if you choose to opt out. It's up to you!

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Taking a good hard look at myself

First, I would like to thank you for leaving the loveliest comments on my last post. It was something written down on a whim, to help me remember a sweet flash in time, a Mama moment. I was touched by your words and thoughts. I wanted to reply to all of you but, there were less sweet moments needing attention and I could not quite keep up. Just know you have put a wee skip in my get-along.

Now for something completely different...





Yup, that's me. A whole lot of me.
It is extremely hard to take photos of oneself I've discovered. The old 'arms length routine' makes you look dour, when really you're just trying to keep from dropping the camera. It seems near impossible to not capture a sad, angry, or constipated look...and when you try to look happy or joyful, you merely come out looking insane. There are a few 'pleasant' looking photos, where you turn out the perfect 'back jacket author photo'...of a New Age Mystery novel. Or, there is that one that would make the perfect cover for a Joan Baez Tribute album. And there is no such thing as a 'candid' self portrait.

What is harder still, is showing said photos to the world. Yikes! So why am I doing it? A few of you have asked me to but, that is not the sole reason. You see, about a year ago I had this little thought. It was not particularly original, and it was rather silly. The thought kept popping up and so, well here we go.

For the next few months I will be taking a self portrait a week. It's a project, an experiment really. I will most likely post these pictures to my flickr pages. It is a challenge I have oddly set for myself, and so beyond my comfort zone. Part photography lesson, part daring myself to do something different, and part taking a good hard look at myself. To see if I can see myself, or something cosmic like that. All of the above photos were taken on the same day at different times.

I don't know how long the experiment will last, most likely until I discover that deep down I'm a narcissist and run away with myself or, until I grow weary of it. I may miss some weeks but, I'm not too strict on these things. I feel slightly terrified and completely ridiculous but, I'm doing it anyway.

and Cath, this one's for you!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Together Again

Inspired by a recent conversation with a friend, I had a rummage in the back of my closet...

...and found these.

Which (in younger days) I wore religiously with these...

And now my old beloved friends are together again...

Looking quite their age, showing signs of hard times but still...
made for each other!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Vintage Violet

I spent a better portion of yesterday whipping the basement into shape. Not the corner where my sewing machine and accoutrement have refuge, but the rest of it. The part where the laundry, sports gear, beer making supplies (not even out of the box in 3 years mind you), camping flotsam, canning shelves, bags intended for donation, the pair of groovy vintage boots I keep meaning to take to the cobbler, a gifted Mexican hammock, my craft books, his engineering books, Belgian waffle maker, clumps of hanging garlic and shallots, a 40 gal. bin filled with baking flour (all sorts), extra chick-chick feed, the detritus of my former life in boxes, delicate things put up when Lil' Hurricane Nova was born - learned to crawl - began to walk - started to climb - turned into a rock star of the utmost kind, power tools, old paint, vacuum cleaner, furnace, water heater, lumber, travel cases, fire wood, and 327 spiders share 290 square feet of raw discord. It had gone way beyond the pale. Whew! Lord, let's hope I've got that out of my system! I have the occasional bent for a tangent; I can 'run on' a bit.

Where was I? Oh yes, change of seasons, freaking out..er, I mean tidying up, sorting piles to purge and what not. In the midst of my dusty labor, I came across my box of old photos. I have a small tip to share with you – when one has limited time and a serious goal to accomplish (such as cleaning up one’s basement), it is not wise to open a neatly closed up box from the past. I’m not suggesting anything akin to the whole Pandora debacle; still, it is bound to be trouble of the most distracting sort, leading to a significant divergence from the task at hand.

And so…apropos of nothing - but for vanity and a case of rusty nostalgia, I present to you a glimpse into my past. Just file it under ‘getting to know you’.



I chose these photos for the fashion. A devout fan of the vintage from way back. The black and white photo shows a 1950's 'Ladies Lunch' dress, red and white silk screened fabric with hundreds of tiny hand sewn silver sequins. The shoes don't look like much and weren't vintage, but rather the most perfect pair of Italian boys oxfords, outlandishly expensive (a gift) and possibly one of my most loved pairs of all time.
In the color photo I am sporting an early 1960's Harley Davidson motorcycle jacket, a 50's petti and some righteous vintage cowboy boots. The Buddy Holly glasses are fakes by the way. Loving those poses!
I may immediately regret my decision to post these as I don't care to share many pics of myself, but for whatever reason, here you are.

Oh, and of course, I hinted at some gossip last post. No, it's not the big news but, I have set myself a real deadline for my grand Etsy Experiment. Regardless of whether I have 3 items or 10, I have given myself until September 30th to open shop. I mean it! I will keep you all abreast of the situation.

Have the greatest of weekends!