“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, then what am I? And if not now, when?”
– Rabbi Hillel
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The Plastic Water Bottle Project :: I’ll admit, I regularly read DIY design blogs written by super hip stay at home moms(with profitable blogs!) and make mental lists of all the things I want to make. Months ago I read THIS POST. That same day I asked my friend to save all her plastic water bottles for me so someday I’d be able to re-create the plastic water bottle chandelier.
Note: Good friends will save plastic water bottles for months for you and then one day call and say, “I have atleast 100 water bottle for you, do you want them or what!”
Truth be told, I’d forgotten I’d asked for the water bottles and upon receiving them was unsure if I still wanted to embark on the water bottle project, but I figured I couldn’t let my friend’s water bottle saving efforts go to waste. So, I made a day out of making the plastic water bottle project.
The cutting and spray painting was mindlessly therapeutic and provided hours of of time to catch up with a friend who agreed to help with the project. HOWEVER, it was also one of those projects where the whole time I was making it I was thinking “Ugh, this thing is going to be ugly. I’m just going to want to throw it away when I’m done.” AND, when I was done with it, I kind of did want to toss it. Don’t get me wrong – it was fun and cool, it just had no place in my house. That, and up close it kind of looked like a pile of neon painted trash.
The redemptive ending to this story(I’m sure you’re ready for it!) :: I happen to know the world’s greatest Montessori pre-school teacher. As it turns out, my wild and whimsical plastic water bottle creation was THE PERFECT addition to the entry way of her magical house/school where little 3 and 4 year olds will pass through into a truly magical first education experience when they begin their first day of pre-school this week. Everything, even plastic water bottle projects have their place.
Soap Lake, WA :: If you’ve never been, you should go. Consider this your invitation to meet all the Russians that live there, bathe yourself in jet black mineral mud, and perhaps even drive a little past the thriving metropolis of Soap Lake to swim in Sun Lakes and feast your eyes on the Grand Coulee Damn.
I can’t remember the last time I was so pleased with a spontaneous weekend adventure.
ICE ICE BABY :: Best discovery of the month at the office: ICE! Yes, we have a giant ice maker that makes beautiful ice. In fact, there is one in every kitchen on every floor of the building. How this alluded me for the past 7 months I do not know.
What I do know is that I can now make myself Iced Soy Decaf Lattes as often as my little heart desires…And I LOVE Iced Soy Decaf Lattes.
rain feels like your kiss
letting me go under the weeping willow
hold me as I change
under the willow tree scraping my knees
my fistful of hair
I care where your scars are
my fistful of mystery under the weeping willow
hold me in your skin
under the willow tree
my hair is like long leaves raining– Anatomy of a Tree by Laurie Kutchins
Raspberry Jammin ::Usually once a summer I’ll take a berry picking trip. I’ll get lost in the monotony of picking or get competitive about picking more berries than whomever I’m with and come home with more beautiful, delicate little raspberries than one can possibly consume in the 3 days before they go bad.
SO, I’ll freeze a few, make one outrageous dessert, and the rest…Well, they get turned into Raspberry Jam. On the one weekend a year I pick berries and make jam I am “a slave to an age old trade”. You see, my grandmother grew up on a farm in Iowa where she made jam every summer. She in turn taught my mom to make jam. My mom in turn would drag my siblings and I to a berry patch every summer. We weren’t allowed to leave until our 2 gallon buckets were each filled with berries. Once we made it home we would sit and smash berries in bowls preparing them to be jam. We deemed this act “jammin”.
And now in my adulthood, I continue the trade each summer. This year’s jam turned out wonderfully and I sent a jar to my grandma for her 89th birthday. My grandma, who has not been well these past few months, called a few days after she received the jam in the mail to thank me for sending it. Here’s how her thank you went: “Thank you for the jam. It is sooo good. I’m not sharing it with anyone(aka my grandpa). If you know who(my grandpa) knew about it it would be eaten in one sitting and it’s too good to let that happen. So, I’ve had my caregiver hide it from him and only get it out for me.”
Oh, how I love her and am so grateful for her in my life. Someday too soon she will not be with us and I will miss her forever. She has always and only been a wonderful, consistent, supportive influence in my life. I am lucky for that.
In the midst of figuring out how I will say goodbye to this woman the act of “jammin” was somehow comforting this year in a way it hasn’t been before. Knowing that a hard goodbye is coming soon the idea that this “age old trade” will live on made me smile…and shed a few tears.
Neighbor Geese
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Every night, as I’m falling asleep, I have grown accustomed to hearing the incessant roaring of my neighbor’s motor cycle. I’m certain the thing will never run as he wants it to, but that doesn’t stop him from spending atleast an hour working on it each night, usually starting about 11.
These days, a new sound has been added to my bed time routine. Ready for this: the honking of geese. Yes, my other neighbors brought home 4 geese the other day. I’m not sure their purpose. They might be pets, as they do spend their days meandering in the front yard the way a dog might. Then again, perhaps they are only intended to be eaten since currently there are only 3 geese left and we spotted the 4th being captured alive in a bag and taken inside.
My first Whimsey Box came in the mail yesterday. I have been waiting for this moment for 2 months and finally the little bundle of joy arrived. And guess what? I am utterly underwhelmed. The contents of the box were embroidery thread and chain to make bracelets – that’s it.
I have 2 more boxes coming in the next couple months so I’m hoping that this is just a bad whimsey month and my next two boxes will bring me pure delight. C’mon whimsey people! Your concept is so cool, wow me next time!
Chihuly Glass :: Do you know it? The stuff is all over the Pacific Northwest. It’s cool, or atleast I’ve always thought so. There’s a new museum at the Seattle Center – The Chihuly Garden & Glass Museum. It’s a controversial establishment because it’s privately owned, but on public grounds. So, perhaps depending on one’s perspective that’s a downside of the place.
Here’s an upside – the place is cool. I can only hope that someday I will be invited to a party there. The event space is so awesome and as museums go, I was pleasantly surprised.
That, and the museum showcases so well the passion of an artist. I’m always always always attracted to people who are in love with what they do and how they spend their days. Dale Chihuly has spent his whole life making glass and he loves it –in a crazed maniacal way that I admire and find so attractive.
The museum felt like Disneyland in a strange way. Walking through it my mind just wandered into some imaginary place. I wanted to be small and run the through the glass sculptures, slide down them, play in them and in the colors they are made of.
“I want people to be overwelmed with light and color in a way they have never experienced.” – Dale Chihuly
Mission accomplished Mr. Chihuly.
TRAPEZE! :: I want to do this again and again and again. SO FUN. Maybe if I can’t figure out my life I’ll join the circus. I also must confess that I am so tempted to re-join facebook so that I can post this video to my profile!
notquitedhaka.com 